Duel With the Devil, Chapter 20 of The Greatest Liar

“I love champagne, how it cleanses the palate, and empties the guilt from our souls.”

Chad clinked my glass again.

“That’s why we got to keep on sinning, to keep the champagne flowing. Not that it matters to me, but our mutual friend told me you’re married ”

“Widowed. Silvio died in Italy’s first wave of Covid.”

“That’s terrible. My mom and dad too.”

“My mother too. Here’s to them, and to other 50 million we didn’t know well enough to love

“May it never happen again.”

“Thad, it will, and next time will be even worse. Live now, like it’s starting again tomorrow.”

“Meaning, drink champagne and fuck beautiful women like you?”

“Great minds think alike.”

A stunning Latina, flaunting her augmented boobs, hips and lips, crowded to the bar between us. Her aromas were enticing, her manner threatening.

“Thad, I thought I was your new girlfriend, not this MILF.

“She’s an old girlfriend, so get back on the waiting list, Maria.”

She drew away, eyed me, closely and snorted.

“Look at her, she’s too perfect, must be a fake. Hey boy, did you get your panocha in TJ?”

“Who knows, I don’t remember, maybe at the same clinic that fixed your monkey face and bolted on your fake tits.”

She flung her drink at me, I ducked, it splashed Thad.

Thad motioned to the bar man, who summoned to security, and in a moment, Maria was in an Uber black.

“Sorry about that. The price of celebrity.”

“Oh, do I know what you mean. Can we get this Dom to go?”

“Where to?”

“Your place, before the paparazzi descend.”

The valet brought Thad’s Lamborghini as a convoy of paparazzi careered onto San Vicente.

I handed the valet a twenty and grabbed the keys.

“I know this hood; I can lose those losers.”

“You know how to drive one of these road rockets.”

“My late husband collected them.”

I cut through a gas station to a back street that led back to San Vicente, swerved around a homeless vet pushing a shopping cart, and escaped onto the far side of the divided boulevard. Three more turns down back streets, and I was at the next freeway entrance, without a paparazzi in sight.