Prologue
I knew better than to trust a lowly dog like Bradley J. Johnson...known as "The Kaiser" in the music industry. What a joke. But was slightly endeared by what I saw....when, upon entering his cold, cold office, I saw a young lady sitting on a chair by herself. She was very pleasing on the eyes. Tall. One of her long legs steadily propped on the chair.
She looked like she could be no older than twenty-five.
Beside her pointy little shoulders, her freckled, pale arms tenderly poked out of her skimpy racing tee. Fiery wheat-like tendrils of red hair sensually cascaded over that elegant neck and back of hers. Off-hand, the girl kinda reminded me of Poison Ivy of the Batman comics. I had read those as a child and in the Army.
As I looked toward her freckled complexion in between all that ginger hair, like a canvas dotted with angel's kisses, I was taken aback. Although disheveled she was quite beautiful. A wild beauty.
'Em piercing green eyes with a pinch of grey were like a mix of exotic amber and jade. She had a little button-nose, Disney doe-eyes, tiny ears and skinny, pink lips shiny with lip gloss. Her skin was rosy around the cheeks and chin. I wondered if this was, perhaps, just an angel stopping by for a visit with the devil.
That skinny teen body, be-speckled face and bewitching gaze combined were probably more than enough to give little erections to any young man her age. Hers was also a cool beauty. And even though she was adorable, her gaze bespoke intelligence and sexual maturity.
I also noticed that, whenever she moved, her tiny nipples poked eagerly against the orange fabric of her tee shirt. The hard outline of perky little breasts was also noticeable. She wore dirty glitter jeans and cutesy black and white Converse. No tattoos; that was new.
"Yes, that's my little cherub daughter Cyn! Have a seat, Paul, and we'll get on with it!" Cried the Kaiser enthusiastically, before motioning for me to try out his opulent furniture.
"Cyn, alrighty. I see. Just lovely! Would that be Cyn as in Cinderella??" I poked, throwing the young lady a wink and offering a handshake after taking off my Stetson Corral 4X cowboy hat.
"No, silly. There are no Cinderellas in Chicago! My name is Cyn... as in Cynthia," her honeyed voice answered energetically.
I sorta didn't know how to feel about any of this at first but I welcomed it. I wanted something from him so figured a little charm wouldn't hurt this good ol' boy from East Texas. She smiled at me...very broadly, and sweetly, actually. A winning smile, really sincere.
Of course, I knew the terrible ordeal this man put his ex-wives through. I was kinda relieved that this was actually his daughter and not his new bimbo. I lost track of how many times that horrible man was married. I also didn't put it beyond him to help himself to a barely legal teen. It was his style to go around trying to pick up women to amuse himself with.
He needed women to lie to and kill their spirits. Love 'em and leave 'em. Besides, she coulda' been anything. Prostitutes, escorts, strippers, con-artists....you name it. Men like him easily attracted criminals and low-lives to their midst because they were just like him.
Of course he would wield the elegance, charm and resources at his disposal to ruin the lives of young people. There was no doubt about that. I could well imagine how pleasant it would feel to him to help himself to a fresh batch of innocents.
Devils are never satisfied because they don't and can't understand love or commitment. They only move onto fresher, younger prey as they age. Always in the moment. Always on the move. Like hungry wolves. Nothing permanent or substantial. Godless.
"Nice to meet you, Cynthia! I've been working with your daddy for quite a long time now! I'm Paul Morris..." I blurted out. Adding... "How old are ya' then, hun?" I further probed, starting off with a bit of small-talk. I can't help I'm a charmer. I'd do business with him, that devil. But I ain't nothing like him. I may not be perfect but I am a believer.
She shook my hand...Must be a dead ringer for her mother I thought to myself...because aside from height I could see no resemblance to her father.
"Well, I just turned twenty, Mr. Morris."
"Right...got it, baby-doll!" I cried, winking again...sorta tuggin' at her hand as I shook it, making her giggle a few more times.
That is when I saw it. Been told by my old buddies that my instincts are spot-on. Didn't want my mind to linger too much in the gutter, but I didn't like the vibe of pure jealousy and lust I started sensing from the Kaiser as events unfolded. It was just a feeling.
I figured she is an adult now and didn't seem to be panicked at all by her father. I just couldn't believe I didn't recognize the greed in that man when he decided to sign me to his music label. I had been fresh out of the Army, you see, and was worried about providing for my family. Of course he later royally embezzled millions from me.
I was too young back then to pay attention. Young bucks like that seldom do. I trusted my instincts now. Let's just say I know how to read people.
I knew I had to focus but she was so darn charming that I relaxed again...She began telling me all about a recent trip to the amusement park with her old man...that big man's eyes on me beyond his grizzly bear frame.
She rambled on cutely. Did he know I was leaving him? Had I given myself away? Maybe this was all just a ruse? I am a pretty big man but I often wondered how I would handle myself in a good ol' old fashioned fist-fight with the Kaiser. He interrupted her.
"...Just go for a walk around the building, Cyn. Go on. We won't be very long. Don't go talking to any strangers!!" He added.
"Yeah, honey. I been tempted to beat your father up in the past but promise I won't go through with it! He'll be alright."
"Okay, Mr. Morris," she cried before running into daddy's arms. The Kaiser smiled at me proudly.
"Here. Take this if you feel like splurging on something at the storefronts!" He cried, handing Cyn a few bills from a wad of money on a clip.
"Go on!" He added with a playful smack on her rear. She giggled as she turned and waved to us.
Her small but curvaceous apple-shaped ass hung cutely from the back 'em tight pants. Although women this young weren't my cup of tea, I couldn't help but appreciate that wiggling caboose at the rear of 'em skinny, tight glitter jeans as she left. She was so very tall, skinny, and sexy.
Sashaying outside Cyn could be heard joking with the building staff, that sweet thing. I have a daughter, so don't go judging ol' Paul here...I like all women.
It just occurred to me that, well....I was in the music industry for so long singin' and I was still dealing with rascals like the Kaiser I couldn't control.
Here I am, a musician and former military helicopter pilot who was honored with the Purple Heart for his service. I had seen combat...and yet this giant man in his suit was more of a killer than any of 'em enemy insurgents. I would have to choose my words carefully.
There was no takin' the high road. I needed to terminate my contract with him. It had to be swift. You see, I came to realize something important about guys like the Kaiser. He's not out here to make dreams come true. He's not a dream-maker. He's actually a dream-breaker out to make money.
But I kept my facade on...waiting for the perfect moment to open fire and raise hell from above. Just like I did at Operation Iraqi Freedom.
"Hey, my star attraction...Big Paul Morris. How the hell are you, my friend? I wanted to speak to you in my office today about raising your percentage. I know your contract with us will be up soon. We've had some rough patches. But that's better than dealing with strangers out there that are worse. I would like to sign you for another five years."
"And what do you offer?"
He poured himself a drink from his mini bar and set it out on his desk.
"Would you like a whiskey? It's green label..."
"No, not right now," I responded.
