Strip Tease Read Online Free PDF Page A

ash. His field of vision was narrow and electrical around the edges, like a cheap television. A woman came into the picture, her lips moving.
    “Darling, how do you feel?”
    It was Joyce, his fiancée. Paul Guber saw her reach out and touch a lump in the blanket—his left foot. Paul Guber was pleased to discover that he wasn’t paralyzed.
    Mordecai said, “Your friends told me what happened. I was sickened, to be very honest. Such a world we live in.”
    Paul Guber blinked rapidly to improve his focus.
    “You are lucky to be alive,” confided Mordecai.
    Paul wasn’t so sure. He wondered what Richard and the others had said to Joyce about the bachelor party. The appearance of a lawyer in his hospital room caused him to suspect the worst.
    He opened his mouth to launch a provisional defense, but Mordecai halted him with a flabby pink palm. “It would be better if you didn’t,” the lawyer said, smiling like a wolf.
    By way of introduction, Joyce said, “Mordecai is my cousin. Uncle Dan’s oldest son—you met Uncle Dan. I called him the minute I heard what happened.”
    She didn’t seem the least bit homicidal. Paul Guber was relieved, but wary.
    Mordecai said, “You probably don’t remember much. That’s to be expected.”
    But Paul remembered everything. Joyce patted his shins under the bedcovers. “Oh Paul,” she said. “I can’t believe such a thing could happen.”
    “In my game,” said Mordecai, “it’s known as gross negligence.”
    Paul coughed. It felt like someone had taken a cheese grater to his throat.
    “Don’t try to speak,” the lawyer advised again. “You’ve been beaten severely, resulting in physical and emotional damage. Permanent damage, as a result of gross negligence.”
    The words came out of a tunnel, but Paul got the general idea. The lawyer was itching to sue somebody. Paul wanted to nip that scheme in the bud—prolonged litigation against a strip joint would please neither his employer nor his future in-laws.
    “We’re not interested in who did this,” Mordecai was saying. “We’re interested in how it was allowed to happen. Accountability, in other words. We’re interested in compensation of a magnitude that no simple street thug could afford.”
    Joyce moved to the front of the bed and began stroking Paul’s forehead. “Someone’s got to pay for this,” she said quietly.
    Mordecai was quick with the follow-through. “You are not the only aggrieved party, Mr. Guber. The cancellation of a wedding is a heart-wrenching event for all concerned. I’m thinking of the bride-to-be.”
    “All those engraved invitations,” Joyce elaborated. “The musicians, the florists, the deposit on the reception hall. The Hyatt’s not exactly cheap.”
    Paul shut his eyes. Maybe it was all a dream. Maybe there was no naked lady dancing to Van Morrison.
    The lawyer said, “I could scarcely believe it when your friend Richard described the circumstances. Getting mugged on the grounds of a synagogue!”
    Paul groaned involuntarily.
    “Don’t worry, we intend to pursue an action,” Mordecai said. “You can depend on it.” He raised the briefcase as if it held some secret power.
    “Unh—” said Paul, but Joyce pressed two fingers to his lips.
    “Rest now,” she whispered. “We’ll come back later.”
    “And not a word to anyone,” said Mordecai the lawyer. “In my game, the best client is a helpless client.”
    Paul Guber felt a stab in his arm, and he opened his eyes to see a beautiful nurse injecting him with drugs. He was so grateful he could’ve kissed her on the lips.

    Erin’s mother lived in California with her fifth husband. She wrote biweekly letters to Erin—richly detailed accounts of shopping sprees. Always the letters ended with a plea: “Quit that awful job! Leave that awful place! Come live with us!”
    Erin’s mother didn’t approve of nude dancing as an occupation. Erin didn’t approve of marrying men for their money. The two women seldom