Unreal Deal (closed)

[NessaCary]

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Sierra closed the cash register with her hip, reaching simultaneously to refill an empty glass and to slide a tip into her jar, nodding as she listened to Johnny lament. She would try harder to stir up some pity for the recent divorcee if she hadn't seen the women he'd left with at the bar.

"Just let her have the cat, Johnny," she said with a smirk. "Aren't you allergic anyway?" He mumbled something into his glass before taking a long swig and she moved on to another customer. Bartending was easy. A place like Slippery Pete's was always busy and she didn't have time to think. Her ex-boyfriend, her parent's money troubles, the leaky faucet in her apartment were all blips at the back of her mind that she didn't need to deal with when she was at work and customer's like Johnny really put things in perspective for her.

A quick glance at the clock informed her that she only had twenty minutes until she could go. Usually she didn't work the afternoon shift, Pete liked the more popular women to work at night when they kept men coming back up to the bar for liquid couraged. Tonight though she had plans. One of the deejay's that played on Saturday's had sent her an article on star-trails. She'd asked for the night off so she could set up a long exposure that would, in theory, show the movement of the stars.

She was so busy washing glasses and sorting out the till that she hardly glanced up when someone sat at the bar.

"What can I get for you today?" Her smile when she looked up was prefunctary but sweet.

 

[PhunkyPhuck]

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He removed his designer glasses off, slowly placing them on the counter upwards so they would not scratch. His left palm reached out until it connected with Sierra’s face, he scanned her smooth, spotless face downwards like he had all the time in the world.

“You are ‘beauty’ personified, Sierra.” He took a puff of his Cuban cigar before continuing as he exhaled the smoke into her face. “You could smile a bit more...I don’t like fake smiles. I’m not your usual customer.”

This was a normal day in the life of Hector De La Mora. He would pass from shop-to-shop, restaurant-to-restaurant, bar-to-bar; his intention wasn’t always to buy their products; his intention was sometimes simply to have a conversation. He didn’t buy their products; they gave them to him for free. He was Hector De La Mora. A powerful man. A gangster. Slippery Pete was undoubtedly his favourite bar. The ladies who worked there were pretty and gave the impression that they genuinely loved doing their jobs for what it was, not for the money.

The deal went horribly wrong – an associate was killed and Hector was lucky to survive. Despite the deal going horribly wrong, it earned Hector the respect and adoration of a powerful drug kingpin, Alejandro Lopez, who offered him a job. Having gained the trust of Lopez, an Argentine drug baron, he achieved his major break. Through his dealings with various drug barons Hector had enjoyed a meteoric rise in London’s underworld; he survives an assassination attempt and viciously overthrows Lopez. On his first deal after the overthrow, Hector made £30 million, which was laundered for him by a corrupt banker. That fortune wasn’t enough; he was soon making £5 million a month. His dream had always been to have “the world and everything in it.” This dream had looked unlikely during his life but –in his mind -never impossible. He had often told anyone who was willing to listen about his dream but few took him seriously, the majority though he was mad.

 

[NessaCary]

"Psh," she huffed at his compliment, scowling at the smoke but stubbornly refusing to cough. She twisted her chin out of his grasp and took a step back to avoid getting caught in a different grip. If there was one thing she couldn't stand, it was arrogance. De la Mora and his gang thought they owned the whole damn town and everyone in it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. What can I get you, sir?" Sarcasm dripped from the last word and she smiled wider, giving him a mouth full of fake. When Pete heard about this, he'd be pissed but she was too close to being done with her shift to give a damn. She wasn't going to let Hecto De la Mora spoil her evening.

Alexandra, her replacement, slipped behind the bar as quietly as possible. She glanced over her shoulder with a cocked eyebrow at Sierra's tone but quickly busied herself with her timecard when the gangster frowned. When he didn't answer right away, she popped her gum and turned to take Johnny's newly drained glass. The older man held onto it tightly, shaking his head.

"Naw, I'm good Sierra. Maybe you oughta find an ashtray for Mr. De la Mora?"

 

[PhunkyPhuck]

He had become accustomed to a life where nearly everyone he came across feared him, thus it was exciting in a sense to come across someone who deviated from the norm. Truth be told, he loved the back-and-forth comments between himself and Sierra. It was a true exercise of the mind. In fact, Sierra reminded him of his rebellious self when he was in his teenage years. Whenever he visited the bar she would show she’s not intimidated and she would make her disapproval of him plainly obvious. She would not descend into a nervous wreck like the other members of staff.

“Kids these days eh, Johnny? No respect!” Hector remarked, shaking his head. “Tell me about it, they’ll be plotting to kill you next!” Jonny replied, with a chuckle more out of nervousness than amusement. “Haha, who would want to kill me? I have nothing but friends.” Hector boasted proudly as he took another puff of his Cuban cigar again, exhaling as he switched his attention back to Sierra.

He walked along to where she was stationed before placing his fingertips authoritatively on her chin. “Your dad is a good man. I have a little deal lined up with him.” He said matter-of-factly then leaned in closer to her as his voice transformed into a whisper. “Please tell him to teach you some fuckin’ manners. Understood?”

 

[NessaCary]

Her hip digs into his stomach when she turns, wrenching her chin free. Hazel eyes flash, her grip on the glass she's holding a little too tight before she sets it down stiffly. She would like nothing to more than to dump the contents on the arrogant bastard's head.

"Pardon me, sir," she all but hissed, "customers aren't allowed behind the counter."

Before she had a chance to move him bodily from her work space, Alex inserted herself between the two, a hand gently caressing Hector's chest. The other barmaid took Sierra's arm and steered her around the gangster and back from behind the bar.

"I filled out your timecard for you, honey. Why don't you go ahead and get out of here early? I know you've got big plans tonight." Alex winked at her friend then turned her eyes back to De la Mora. "As for you," she flashed white teeth in a genuine smile and pulled her hand back before it could offend him. "You can go wherever you please while I'm here."

 

[PhunkyPhuck]

"What the fuck is the matter with you? YOU MUST BE PMSING LIKE CRAZY." He berated her. "Pete should have given you the day off work."

Hector was taken aback. Were there any limits to the rebellious nature of this young woman? Undoubtedly, someone will report the incident to Pete but Hector would deny anything had happened - just like how he had done in minor incidents in the past. Besides, he thought she was only a young girl, probably with some issues on her mind, nothing more, and nothing less. This was minor stuff in comparison to what he usually involved himself in. It had still angered him, he didn't like to be embarrassed like that, especially in a bar that was always busy. However, driving in fifth gear with anger wasn't what had made him successful in his field of expertise, having ice in the brain was the pivotal factor when it came to pulling off deals.

"You should be worshipping my dick, you little whore," he calmly commented as he walked out of the counter.

He had a long look around the place to retain his composure. It was a look that was trademark Hector De La Mora. It was a look that searched every inch of the building and gave him an aura which symbolised - even to an outsider who didn’t know who he was - a man of power, an alpha male. He took one look at his watch then made his way out of the bar, stopping momentarily to compose his clothes, brushing away the particles that Alex and Sierra had planted on her during the scuffle. He positioned himself outside waiting for Sierra, exchanging nods with various passer-bys. Many of these passer-bys smiled at him but he did not return their smiles. “Smiling is for the weak,” his father had always told him.

 

[NessaCary]

The bar uniform was a simple, low cut shirt with a vest that pushed up the employees breasts subtly. Sierra slipped on a baggy sweatshirt and shouldered her bag, pushing large earphones over her ear. She clicked through the music until she found something suitably angst-y to push De la Mora's comments from her head. She'd have to discuss whatever deal her father had made with the prick with him in the morning.

Her phone buzzed in her bag and she flipped it open, reading the days text messages and failing to notice Hector outside the door. Her mood improved slightly by the time she reached her beat up mini and she even bobbed her head to the beat a little, oblivious to the world around her.

 

[PhunkyPhuck]

"Ohhhhh...look what we have here. You have immaculate tits, sweet Sierra. I'm sure they're bigger than my mansion." He didn't care much for the atmosphere of Slippery Pete but he did like the members of staff, especially how they were all easy on the eye, to say the least, and this easiness on the eye was complemented with perfectly-sized breasts on each of the women, which the uniform perfectly showcased.

"Does your father know he's the father of a whore, though?" He taunted her, allowing her little space to manoeuvre. "Here, take this," he instructed her, waving a £50 note infront of her face. Hector had a heart made of steel but he did have a heart that would spark off crazy outbursts of generosity.

 

[NessaCary]

Money?!? Sierra looked at in incredulously before slipping around the hulking man and into her car. He tried to paw her or maybe stop her but she ducked quickly out of the way, glaring up at him through the window.

"I'm no whore, De la Mora, and that's why you don't know what to do with me." Nodding at the money, she turned on the car and drove away before he could respond. She was fuming about the bill he shoved in her face when she got home and wasn't over it when she began to make dinner. She didn't bother to answer the phone, it was her dad and she didn't want to hear about his latest business venture.

The phone rang again while she was in the shower but she didn't hear it. She left to go take pictures without noticing the blinking answering machine light.

 

[PhunkyPhuck]

Hector shook his head, pretending to be disgusted as a sizeable group of onlookers had formed. “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT!? HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN ME BEFORE?” He shouted at them, placing the £50 note into the jacket and then rubbing his hands enthusiastically. He took one look at the sky as daylight slowly disappeared, it was time to go back to his mansion.

At the front entrance of his mansion he was greeted by two of his closest associates who possessed gloomy, funeral-like faces, which were complemented by their dark , sombre suits. Once they arrived to his office room, they sat down yards away from his desk. Hector poured orange juice into his brown and white hand-turned marble cup and took a sip. Not a word had been said. “What is wrong with your faces? You both look like you’ve just fucked your sisters,” he observed, with a chuckle. They looked at each other worryingly before one of them spoke. “That stupid shit has been caught laundering the £2m by undercover cops," he informed him. "He is facing up to five years in prison for money laundering and tax evasion. And he is threatening to drop your name right in it.” They informed him in no uncertain terms that his latest deal wasn’t going well. Hector slammed his first on the wooden table as his body became electrocuted with rage. “Tell him he better get us out of this shit and if he doesn’t....someone he loves...WILL pay.” He clenched his fists as he attempted to control his anger, rising from his seat and walking from wall to wall. “Fucking immigrants. Why did I choose to work with this incompetent prick?

 

[NessaCary]

The shots were beautiful, absolutely gorgeous. Streaks of white light lit up the sky, showing how they'd moved over the eight hours she'd been out. When she finally stumbled home at nine the next morning she tossed her things on the couch and walked up to bed in a trance, throwing herself onto it and passing out directly.