dragged... (Part 39)

             Anonymous Liaison   

“Hello, I’d like to speak to the owner of your establishment please, I have a business matter that I need to discuss with him,” the anonymous woman said, in an English accent. 

“May I ask the nature of your call, Floyd Foster, the owner, gave me specific instructions to get the name and purpose of any caller before he was to be disturbed,” Linda Bender asked in a terse tone of make believe authority.  If you listened to and believed her, she would have you believing that she was Floyd’s essential business partner at Lily’s, but everybody knew that was not the case, except her. 

Floyd Foster opened Lily’s in the 70’s when polyester was the fabric of choice, and when Disco dominated both  the airwaves and the club scene.  He and his late partner, Dennis Fairmont, were co-owners in the Drag venture, but unfortunately Dennis never lived to witness the opening of it because he died of AIDS complications two weeks before the extravagant event.  His untimely demise sent shock waves through the gay community and Floyd fell into a deep depression behind the loss of his companion, but his circle of friends rallied around him with unyielding support and love to help him through the tragedy.

Everyone was on edge during that time, including the twelve investors (friends of theirs), because if it didn’t open as scheduled, no one was going to get paid, not even Floyd who had put up the biggest chunk of money.  As hard as it was for him to see it through, he managed to find enough strength in the midst of his grieving to fulfill his and Dennis’s dream of having a refuge for Drag Queens.  They were the consummate gay couple; Floyd was the masculine component of their relationship, but when it came to Dennis he was like an obedient puppy dog. 

I suppose that Linda felt the call was too important to dismiss, because rather than throwing shade and attitude to the caller, she did something totally out of character for her, she used common sense and asked the English woman to hold, and rose from her roost and combed the club to locate Floyd. If anyone knew that she had finally stepped outside of the box based on her gut feeling, they might have bumped her up a few notches on the respect-o-meter, but unfortunately, the only way anyone would find out is through brag and error.  Linda had no way of knowing that the conversation between the foreigner and Floyd, that she made happen,  was about to shoot Lilly’s into the stratosphere of celebrity status.  

”Floyd!” she called out, impatiently. 

He turned around irritated, with a look on his face that shouted the phrase, “Bitch this had better be good.”  Linda and Floyd had a love hate relationship.  The only reason he tolerated her is because she was close friends with his deceased mate, Dennis.  He couldn’t stand her while Dennis was alive, and he really couldn’t stand here at the present, but Floyd’s loyalty to his late companion, wouldn’t allow him to treat Linda any less than how Dennis would have treated her had he still been alive, but it didn’t mean that he wouldn’t curse her ass out. 

“Floyd, you know I would never intrude on your artistry if I didn’t feel it was important,” Linda announced, unfazed by his aggressive brawn. 

“Bitch, it had better be important because you know that you are already treading on thin ice.  Egad, I don’t understand why Dennis thought you were so special anyway,” he said in a huff. 

“Nigga, if it weren’t for me, things would have already fallen apart at this motherfucker, so don’t even try to discount me like that.  If Dennis were alive today, he would have already taken this club to Rupaul heights baby, okay?” Linda touted off without fear of retaliation.

“Linda, save it for the dead, because I wouldn’t buy your bullshit if my life depended it on it,” He said, walking toward her. 

When they arrived in the office, Linda copped a squat like she was a season ticket holder getting ready to watch  an NFL game, but once Floyd shot her his evil eye; she rose from her seat and threw up her hands in defeat.  “Whatever, Floyd, okay, whatever,” she said as she left his office.

“Thank you for waiting, this is Floyd Foster, what can I do for you?” He asked. 

“Floyd, thank you for taking my call, I appreciate it.  Now, allow me to introduce myself, my name is Diana Willingsly, and I have a proposition for you, so please listen closely,” she said.

Floyd the businessman kicked in, because had he allowed Floyd the egomaniac to bring on the arrogance, he would have flipped the script and chastised the English caller for wasting his time. 

Diana’s calm, to the point delivery, and her strong, blatant, confidence captivated him, so rather than shooting her down, and sending her the prideful message that he had nuts, he decided to listen without interrupting her as she presented him with an opportunity that he would have been a fool not to accept.

She offered to back a conest with $100,000 being the take home prize.

After hearing her proposition in its entirety, he cleared his throat before speaking.  “Let me see if I understand you correctly, Ms. Willingsly; you are offering to back a contest where the grand prize is going to be $100,000, am I hearing you right?” He asked, licking his lips, trying to make sure that he had heard her right.

“Mr. Foster, I do not believe I stuttered when I pitched this offer to you, but let me tell you a little bit more about how I learned of your club.  I met one of your headliners on a cruise by the name of Elixir Cahoun.  I’m not sure if you know it or not, but his devotion to what your establishment represents is unyielding, and he provided me with enough information to assure me that it is a San Francisco club, worthy of all the attention that media can give it,” she told him. 

“Oh, is that so, Ms. Willingsly? Well, Elixir Calhoun is one of the headliners here, and listening to you speak of her I know that what you say is true, but I’m a business man, and promises to me are like assholes, everyone has one.  If I agree to your proposition, how will I be guaranteed that I will be reimbursed for my promotion of this $100,000 contest?” He asked, anxious to hear what she had to say.    

“Mr. Foster, in addition to assuring you that I mean business, let me tell you what I’m going to do.  I’m going to transfer the entire $100,000 into an account of your choice, and I’m willing to meet with you and sign a contract that will solidify my commitment to this project.  So, with all this green sitting on your table, I need to know if you can handle all this cheese I’m willing to put on the trap?” She asked with the shrewd tone of a real business woman. 

“Let me assure you of one thing, Ms. Willingsly, I eat fear for breakfast and always down a tall glass of courage afterawards, so you tell me where and when, I’ll be there" he told her.

She laughed confidently.  “Mr. Foster, you are everything that Elixir said you were.  Okay, let me run down the details, and before I do I’m going to let you know right now, they must be followed down to the very last rubber band inside of a bra,” she said, loving how well he was playing the game.

“Diana, lay it all on me because I’m telling you now, if it is proper, you might have to excuse me while I bust a nut,” he told her without hesitation.    

“Hmmm… are you sure you’re not straight?” she asked, blushing as if she were being complimented by royalty. 

The magnetic connection between two minds was louder than the collision between two vehicles.  Floyd’s masculine gene was on overdrive.  He had experienced the pleasures of a woman more than once, and Diana’s English wit and feisty tone hit him just like catfish, it made his nature rise.  

One hundred grand was enough to make the gayest dick rise for the cause and it wasn't beneath him to put his in a pussy.

"Straight or gay, let me assure you that I do have a dick," he said in cocky response.

Oh yes, the playing field was now equipped for the main event, nobody knew who was going to shine and who was going to go home, but one thing for sure, it was about to be on....