The Charger found the Westin Tampa Bay easily on Courtney Campbell Causeway. It wasn’t hard to spot given its location in the heart of Rocky Point island. The waterfront location offered the hotel guests a fabulous view of Tampa Bay. The driver parked in the loading zone, and unlocked the doors.
“Mr. Monroe?”
Antoine looked at the driver in the mirror. “What can I do for you?”
“That’s easy. Kill a man.”
Antoine unlocked the taxi door and got out of the vehicle. He slammed the door shut and walked to the driver’s window. He leaned in. “How do you propose I do that.”
“There’s a woman that lives here in Tampa. She has a drink here at the AQUA Bar and Grille with co-workers for their popular two-dollar Tuesday’s drink specials every Tuesday. Stand back. Let me look at you.”
What the fuck is up with this bitch? Antoine thought. Stand back to let me look at you? Was she joking?
“Back up,” the driver said and pushed the Charger’s door open. “I asked you to back the fuck up, man. Please, don’t make this time with me a problem. I will shoot your balls off,” she said and ran her hand down his chest and to his crotch. “Nice package. I’ll need you to use it tonight on our target. You’re a ladies’ man, right?”
“No doubt,” Antoine said and felt an erection forming in his pants.
“Okay, great. You were given some credit cards, right, Mr. Monroe?”
“I was.” Nonchalant.
“There is a Gucci boutique on North West Shore Boulevard. Get there and dress to impress in head to toe Gucci. Nice suit, button-up, perhaps a button or two open at the top. And a very sexy shoe.”
“How am I getting there?”
“Rent a car. How else? Let me see your hands.”
“What about them?” Antoine said and held out his hands.
“Just making sure you don’t need a manicure.”
“Why are you getting into all of this, as if I don’t know how to bag a bitch?”
“I am assuring that you literally bag this one for the coroner!”