" Ivy," he repeated, smiling as if he should have known that already. "Need..." he seemed to pause, searching for the right words, " ... has nothing t... do with it, Ivy."I shrugged and looked away. Looking into that man's eyes were like looking into my own life, my own soul. It hurt and confused me. I concentrated on pouring him another drink."How old are you, Ivy?" he asked, watching my hands intently."Old enough." I smiled, but didn't look up. I corked the bottle and left it on the bar this. Andre offs Borget, takes the money, and they're off to the races. The black queer had promised him a mil as his taste, which he had immediately revealed to the bosses. They said go ahead, at least the black man wasn't going to bail out like Borget planned. They figured they could get a half dozen swaps for planeloads of coke before Andre started trying to solo, when his fate would be sealed.Gene licked his lips at the prospect of having that sweet blonde wife of Borget's on this plane, under. More

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