SAVED BY THE GLASS SLIPPER
by
Andie Alexander
~~~~~
PUBLISHED BY
Andie Alexander on Smashwords
Saved By The Glass Slipper
Copyright © 2010 by Andie Alexander
(originally published under penname Markee Anderson)
Smashwords Edition License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
~~~~~
This story is a mystery, dedicated to my mother and siblings, and in loving memory of my sister, Diane, and my father, who all loved mysteries.
~~~~~
SAVED BY THE GLASS SLIPPER
~~~~~
Chapter 1
I had to get away from the man in black, chasing me down the sidewalk in downtown Devon, Florida. Something like this always happened in the movies—but not in my life. The mild-mannered bank teller decides to take a break at the beach nearby and wham!—she’s attacked by a huge man who’s always dressed in black—usually at night. It would be cool to see it on the big screen, but this was different. This was reality, it was lunchtime, and I was the victim.
Running into the middle of a busy street, I knew the man in black with the big dark eyes wouldn’t be stupid enough to follow. While I waited on the yellow lines, cars blasted their horns as they passed. This wasn’t exactly one of my brightest ideas, but being chased by a muscle-clad man isn’t an everyday occurrence either. As I glanced back at him still standing on the sidewalk from where I’d started, he glared at me, then watched the traffic pass by.
When the traffic light changed, I finally got a break, so I dodged waiting cars and ran to the other side. Some Asian men on the sidewalk watched me approach, but I ignored them, checking for the big man in black running after me.
Taking off down the sidewalk, I ran south, dodging pedestrians. The small town was crowded for a Friday morning in May, a small break in time between Spring Break and summer vacation. Located on Florida’s west coast, Devon was a small often-forgotten town between Fort Myers and Naples.
At the next intersection, I turned west on another sidewalk, finally able to see the Gulf of Mexico in front of me. I could feel the man in black lessening the distance between us and glanced back to verify my thoughts. For some reason, the Asian men were behind him by about a hundred yards, making me wonder if they were going to the beach, too. But why would they run? The ocean wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe they were just tourists, excited to be here.
Once I hit sand at the end of the brick building, I turned a corner and ran smack-dab into a beautiful specimen of a man with blue eyes and short brown hair.
He stopped me with both hands on my shoulders before I bowled him over. “Slow down.”
“Sorry,” I said, then gasped, moving to run past him.
He grabbed my arm and held me back. “Are you out jogging?”
“Not exactly.” I looked behind me. The man in black wasn’t there but I was sure he was hiding somewhere.
“Why are you running, then?”
“Someone’s chasing me.” I extracted myself from his grasp and took off down the beach. Running for all I was worth, I knew I could outrun the man in black. I’d practiced running distances for some time, in case something just like this would happen. I knew it was just a matter of time, but never thought my chaser would be so large and evil looking.
The adorable man caught up then ran in front of me right just as I reached the water line. He was a fast runner, because I’d been in training for a while.
“Stop!” he yelled, trying to breathe.
I pushed past him. “I can’t. I’ll be killed.”
He took hold of my hand and pulled me toward him, gasped for air, and searched my face with his eyes. “Why?”
I wished I’d had my purse with me for defense, just in case. He was stronger than I was, because I couldn’t pull myself from his hand. I leaned down to catch my breath for a moment, then stood up. “Are you a serial killer?”
Mr. Adorable began to laugh. “No. What’s going on?”
I sucked in some air and faced him. “There’s a huge man in black chasing me. He looks like a murderer.”
The man searched the area behind me, letting go of my hand. “There’s no one there.”
I spun around. The beach was empty, except for a few families with kids, about a hundred yards away from us. “Where did he go?”
He looked at me as if I were nuts as I faced him again. “I have no idea. I’m friends with the local cops if you need help.”
“I don’t know what I’d tell them. How can I prove someone’s after me if they’ve disappeared?”
“You’re right. If you said anything, it would look like you’re crazy. Have you eaten lunch yet?”
The man in black was chasing me and this guy was thinking about lunch? How odd. I should’ve said ‘no’ and gone back to work, but for some reason, I felt safe with this man. I doubted the man in black would return when this guy was near me. “No, I wasn’t going to eat lunch. I was just out to walk on the beach, but someone else had other ideas.” Reaching down, I took off my flat shoes and poured out the sand. Running in a skirt wasn’t fun, but at least I wasn’t wearing heels.
As soon as I replaced my shoes on my feet, the man grinned, grabbed my hand, and shook it. “The name’s Mark Dallas, and I’d like to take you to lunch.” He watched me for a minute. “That is, if you’d like to come with me.”
“Oh, I can’t impose—”
“No imposition whatsoever and I promise.” He checked my left hand. “No husband coming to hunt me down, so you’re free, right?”
“No, no one…anymore. I’m free.”
“Anymore?”
“It’s a long story, but definite history.” The guy’s smile was endearing, and I couldn’t refuse those eyes anything they wanted. I had to remind myself to be wary. “I’m Amy Watson, by the way.”
He rested my hand in the crook of his elbow and walked with me up the beach toward a small hotdog shop. “I guess I’m just lucky to be here over lunch today. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to save you from whoever was chasing you.”
“I guess so.”
He glanced my way. “Why were they chasing you?”
I could only imagine, but this guy didn’t need my baggage or any of my secrets. If someone was willing to chase me for it, he certainly didn’t need to be involved. “I have no idea. I’m a nobody. It’s not as if I have money hanging off me or anything.” I turned toward him. “You’re not friends with the man who was chasing me, are you?”
He pointed toward himself. “Me? Do I look like someone who’d be friends with a chaser?”
“Not really. I just have to make sure you’re not a serial killer or something.”
“That’s the second time you mentioned that. But, think about it. If I’m friends with the police, could I possibly be a serial killer? I highly doubt they’d consider the police their friends.”
“How do I know you’re friends with the—”
A cop walked out of a shop right near us, as if right on cue. “Mr. Dallas! How are you doing today?” He shook Mark’s hand and smiled.
“Oh, I’m fine, Craig. Hope the kids are doing better.”
“Yes, they’re fine now. It was just the flu. Take care.” The policeman walked back the way I’d come from around the corner.
“I stand corrected,” I murmured. “How do you know him?”
“Oh, the whole police station comes over to work to make sure we’re safe. We feed them donuts to guarantee they’ll come back.” He leaned closer to me. “They’re suckers for donuts, especially the filled ones.”
“Where’s work?”
He straightened back up to his full height, about four inches taller than me, at least. “Work is near here. I just came to the beach for something to eat so I could get outside.”
“Near here where?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. I couldn’t think of any subversive businesses close by that might harbor serial killers. However, I should’ve brought my purse with me, because not only did I carry things that could be used as weapons, it made a great club if I hit someone just right.
Without answering me, Mark opened the door to the restaurant with a grin and we stood at the back of the line to order.
“I work at Madcap Software,” he finally said. “Ever heard of it?”
I felt my mouth drop. I’d finally met someone from there. “It’s the best place to work in the area. If I just had the background in programming games, it would be my top choice for employment. What do you do there?”
Mark leaned up to the clerk. “I’d like two hotdogs with the works and two colas.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Dallas.” I never got service with those kinds of comments and clerks didn’t know my name, either.
Mark smiled, then looked at me. “I program games. What’s your background?”
I glanced at the clerk then back at Mark. “They know you here?”
“Sure. A lot of people know me. I guess I’m just a likeable guy.”
I dug some emergency cash from my pocket. “Well, likeable guy or not, I’m paying my way.”
“No, this is mine,” he said, putting his warm hand on mine. “I have to save the damsel in distress. It’s my job.”
I laughed at him, but stood firm. “No, I have to pay the prince for saving me. That’s just the way it is.”
“A prince?”
“Yes, sir. I don’t know how you did it, but the man in black was gone after you appeared. You’re either a prince or a knight in shining armor…or you have a death wish from a chaser.” I kept digging in my skirt pocket, but had to keep looking toward the door for the man in black.
My pocket was empty. Where was the rest of my money? I should have more than two dollars with me—or did I forget again?
Mark wrapped his fingers around my hand, making my head pop up to meet his very blue eyes staring me down. “You’re not paying. I insist.” He pushed my hand away from my pocket, but kept my other hand in his grip.
My mouth fell open, just from the power and masculinity of the man. On my scale of ten for a perfect male, I’d have to give him a twenty, at least. I used the scale to determine whether a man was worthy of me or not. Mark was good; there was no doubt about it. He was better than Connor, who’d only gotten a maximum score of five the entire two years we’d been dating. Since I’d found out he was also married, that score went down to a negative seventeen. However, I didn’t trust anyone for a reason, and if Mark was out to get me, I was a dead duck. I had to keep my distance.
I must’ve looked like an idiot as I stared at Mark, because he chuckled when paying the bill. While he carried the tray of food to a small table, I just followed, feeling like a little puppy. Sitting across from each other, he handed me a hot dog and a soda.
“You okay now?” he asked.
I had to look behind me at the door, just to make sure it was okay. I didn’t see the bad guy, so I figured I was safe for the time being.
I turned around and faced him again. “Sure. Thanks for lunch.”
“No problem.” He leaned up closer to me. “I have my reputation to uphold, being a prince and all.”
“And I feel like Cinderella with the stupid glass slipper, too. I bet she couldn’t run in her shoes either. That’s probably why she lost one on the stairs.”
Mark laughed as he bit into the hot dog. He swallowed, then faced me just as I took a bite and got ketchup all over my face. He picked up a napkin before I could move, wiping the red goo off my lips. He was powerful and the type of man who could handle anything. If knights in shining armor existed, Mark would be the one leading the pack. But I imagined the devil would look good and appear to be a knight if he wanted someone to fall for him, too. So I had to appear neutral on what I thought of Mark.
“What’s your background?” he asked.
I swallowed, popped back to reality, and took a drink. Would he even understand me? Only one way to find out. “I’m working on my master’s degree in Mathematics and Business Computing so I can get a real job.”
He didn’t seem to be fazed, which was interesting in itself. “How many more classes do you have to go?”
He was smarter than I thought, because most men would’ve been running out the door by this time in the conversation. “Just the one I have right now. I have a test tonight, one project to turn in, and I’ll have my master’s degree. I can’t wait, either.”
“What then?” he asked, definitely interested.
I couldn’t believe it. Men like Mark didn’t have brains…or did they? “As soon as I write my résumé, I’m out of Florida. Time to move on.”
His face looked sad and confused. “Before you leave, you should try Madcap.”
“No, because my classes aren’t in games programming. It’s much different.”
“What class are you taking right now?” He took a huge bite then stared at me with those adorable eyes.
“Data administration.”
Mark coughed, choking on his hot dog. Hopping to my feet, I ran to his side of the booth and patted him on the back. “Are you okay?”
He coughed some more, put up his hand, then took a drink and nodded. “I’m fine. It just went down the wrong way. Did you say data administration, as in management and modeling?”
How did someone like him even know what I was talking about? “That was the old title for the class. Why?” I returned to my seat.
“That’s a very difficult class, from what I hear.”
“How do you know that?”
He studied my face for a moment then leaned closer. “Why are you so defensive? Are you in trouble? It would all fit if you’ve been chased. What are you hiding? Is it something you want to tell someone, just in case, or do you want protected?”
I sat back. That was an odd statement from him, as if he knew more than he was saying. “No, I’m not in trouble. I just wondered how you knew about the class I have right now.”
“Oh.” He waved me off as if it were no big deal. “I know some people who’ve taken the same class. It’s with Dr. Urban, right?”
“Yes, it is. Do you know him?” Something didn’t seem right. How would he know people who’ve taken a class in data administration if he programmed games? Maybe there was more to games programming than I’d imagined?
His gaze met my face. “I don’t really know him, but have heard rumors that he’s tough. How’s the class going?”
I leaned closer, making sure no one would hear. “I have the highest grade in the class, but that’s a secret.”
“Why is that?”
“Dr. Urban and I have…history together. I’ve had him for many classes, and I usually give him notes on the side so he can actually teach the course.”
“You tell your own professor how to teach?” Mark sat back and studied me. “What other courses did you take from him?”
I shrugged, not wanting to tip my hand. “Oh, you know, different things. Why?”
“Just wondering.”
The bell over the door of the restaurant tinkled, making me turn around and stare to see who’d walked in. An Asian man entered the restaurant, watching me. I ignored the man and turned back toward Mark, because men gawked at me all the time from my blonde hair and blue eyes, or so they told me. I usually blew off any man who was that superficial.
Mark thrust his hand into his pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and pressed a number. “Join me.” He ended the call, picked up my hand, and kissed the back of it.
“What was that about?” I whispered.
“Protection,” he whispered back, leaning up closer to me. “You’re very pretty. I have a request.” Hearing concern in his voice and watching him frequently glance toward the door made me worried. Was the man in black in the building? I was scared to even look.
“Protection from what?” I probably sounded a bit hysterical, but considering Mark kept watching the door, I figured I was justified.
“Forget about it. Now about my request—”
I didn’t even remember what he’d asked me. “Forget the request.” Even though I tried to keep my voice down to a whisper, it was sounding more and more like a hiss. “What’s going on? You look like you’re staring at a ghost or something.”
“Don’t worry about it.” He looked up at the door and nodded. I tried to turn around, but he pulled my chin toward him and gave me a kiss…a knock-you-out, make-your-knees-weak kiss. As soon as he moved away, I fell back to my seat and closed my eyes, wondering how to recover. I couldn’t fall for this guy, because he might be the enemy—a well-rehearsed enemy.
“You okay?” I heard fingers snapping near my face.
I opened my eyes slowly. “I think I’m in your power. Now quit freaking me out and taking over here. I don’t know if I trust you yet, and don’t like being accosted with your lips.”
“Sure.”
I don’t think he even heard what I said.
He glanced back at the door again, nodded and grinned, then put his phone in his pocket. “Now about my request—”
“Uh-huh,” I said, watching him massage my hand. “Ask away—anything you want, because I don’t remember any request after a kiss like that.” Or even before a kiss like that.
“One kiss and you’re mine?”
“Appears so, even though it’s against my will and I’d rather not fall for any man right now.” I met his eyes. “Whatcha want?”
“Oh, we have to fix that kiss thing. Go out with me tonight—that’s my request.”
I shook my head, returning to the present. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m on the rebound and just don’t know right now. You could be the devil or something and I need to protect myself.”
“On the rebound, huh?”
“Uh-huh.” I guess he either was the devil and wanted me to fall for his advances, or ignored the comment about protection. Regardless, I crossed my arms, wondering about his hearing. He didn’t look that old to be deaf.
He stroked my hair and stared into my eyes with a grin. “Why would someone let a beautiful blonde-haired, blue-eyed princess like you get away?”
I smiled and backed away. “Some come-on line. Now are you going to explain everything to me?”
“Nope.” He leaned closer, making me look up at him. “I was being serious. You’re absolutely beautiful. Why are you on the rebound?”
“I got rid of some…dead weight. That’s why I was going to the beach today. I needed to be alone.”
“Who is this ‘dead weight’?”
“His name’s Connor. He’s a psychology professor at the University. It’s not that big of a deal, really, and it’ll make it easier to move away when I get my master’s degree.”
“Go out with me tonight to celebrate getting rid of Connor?” He almost begged me, but I couldn’t relent. I had to keep my distance.
“I don’t think I can date right now.” I leaned up closer to him. “Besides, how do I know you’re not a crazed psycho or something?”
He chuckled, appearing more than amused with me. “I’m not a crazed psycho.”
“Uh-huh.” I crossed my arms. “And I’m to believe you? You think I’m going to date you now?”
He sat back, letting out a huge breath. “Not a date, just a celebration. Please? We’ll be out in public, too, so you can trust me.”
His tone and beautiful eye contact got me. I should’ve walked out the door, but I was in his power and had no choice. No other woman would’ve argued with me that Mark Dallas was worth it—he was a perfect twenty out of ten, after all. Also, he knew the cops, which was a definite plus. But there was something there that seemed almost secretive about him.
I studied him for a moment, thinking it through. He’d be fun to play with, at least, until I figured out how bright he really was. I didn’t date beneath my intelligence level, not because I was a snob, but I didn’t want them labeling me as a nerd or something.
I nodded. “Fine. I’ll meet you somewhere, but I pay my way. I don’t want to owe anyone anything.”
“It’s my treat, and I insist.”
I leaned closer, challenging him with my narrowed eyes. “I’m not helpless.”
“I know that.” His voice was almost a whisper as he chuckled. “But I want to treat you right. Please?”
I was in big trouble, because the butterflies were doing double wing-flaps in my stomach. What was it about this guy? Was it the invisible dimples that only showed up when he grinned, or was it the compassion oozing out of him? It was hard to tell because I was a sucker for both of those things. I still couldn’t trust him. “We’ll see. What time and where?”
He checked his watch. “After your class at Luigi’s.”
“I’m done around six. I’ll meet you there, and it’s not a date.”
His smile and dimples were endearing but not as mesmerizing as his blue eyes. “Not a date. Got it. Just dinner and a celebration.”
I finished my hot dog and drink, then glanced at my watch. “I have to go back to work. Thank you for lunch.”
“Where is work?”
“Near here. I’m a bank teller.”
His face sported confusion. “You have your college degree and you’re a bank teller?”
“It pays the bills until I can get a real job. A 4.0 GPA in Mathematics for undergrad doesn’t exactly pull in the jobs.”
Mark smiled, making me wonder what was going through his mind. He was probably figuring out a way to get rid of me—and my brains. “Tonight at six at Luigi’s.”
I stood to leave, but Mark was at my side in an instant. “I had a thought,” he said. “Why don’t I walk you back to work?” He kept glancing out the door, then grabbed my arm.
“Why? It’s very close to here.”
“In case that man returns who was chasing you. I want to make sure you’re safe. That’s all.”
“You’re a true knight, but I bet your girlfriend won’t be too happy about that, though.”
He walked me outside into the sunshine. “No girlfriend, no wife. You’re in luck.” He began walking at a fast pace, checking behind us every so often.
I didn’t see anyone following us, but just played along. “So, are you from around here?”
“No, my family lives in the Washington D.C. area. Yours?”
D.C.—governmental. I had to be extra careful, just in case, after being warned against governmental types. But this guy was just a games programmer, so he couldn’t be governmental. I had to give him the benefit of the doubt. “I’m alone here. What brought you to Florida?”
“Oh, the job. You know, nothing earth-shattering.” We rounded the corner near the street to where I first saw the chaser, but the man in black was now gone, as well as the Asian men.
Mark took my hand and we waited until the light turned green, then walked across together. “Do you come down to the beach often?” he asked.
“Not really. You probably do, since you seem to know everyone in that hot dog shop.”
He smiled. “Not really, but people seem to know who I am.”
“Well, I don’t. Are you on the news or something?”
“No, not the news. I just like treating people well, and it seems to follow me no matter where I go.” He seemed cryptic, making me wonder what he was hiding.
We stood in front of the bank and he faced me. “Well, have a great afternoon at work.” He handed me his card. “If you have any problems, give me a call.”
I glanced at his simple white business card, containing his name, phone number, and the words ‘Madcap Programmer’ under it. “I will. Thanks for lunch and—”
He pulled me to him and studied my face. With one arm around my back, he stroked my hair and seemed to glance behind me.
“Is he back?” I whispered.
“No, I don’t think so. But I’m watching out for you. Want me to meet you after work to make sure you’re safe?”
“I’ll be fine. I’ll have the security guard walk me to my car.”
Mark moved closer, his lips touching mine gently at first, then turning passionate, while I kissed him back. Oh, he was hot and the things his kiss did to me—oh baby…I was in big trouble if he were the enemy.
Mark backed away with a grin, making his dimples appear just slightly. “If you need me, call, please?” He asked in such a warm tone, I had to remind myself we were out in public.
I felt my mouth drop and my cheeks heat up while feeling my breath hitch. “Sure.”
He left go and took a few steps away from me, then turned back suddenly. “Six. Luigi’s. Don’t forget.”
“Yes, sir.” Upon entering the bank, I told Benny, the elderly security guard what had happened, and went back to my teller’s window. What a weird lunch. The first thing I did was call the cops.
“Devon Police,” a surly man answered.
“My name is Amy Watson, and I’d like to know about someone named Mark Dallas. I just met him and I want to know what you’ve got on him.”
The man laughed for a long time before clearing his throat. “He’s one of the most well-respected citizens in Devon. He’s friends with everyone here at the station and in various surrounding police departments. Why?”
“Well, he was worried about someone in the restaurant and called for someone to join us, but they never did.”
The man’s voice turned from jovial to serious. “What restaurant was it?”
“Sal’s hotdogs, down at the beach. Why?”
“I’ll take care of it.” Click.
I stared at the dead phone, not sure what had just happened.
“That’s a phone, Miss Watson. Now get to work!” Spinning around, I saw my boss, Mr. Johnson’s, angry face.
“Yes, sir.” Unlocking my teller window, I got to work. My mind wasn’t on the job, but on the situation from the beach. Why would someone run after me? It made no sense.
Within fifteen minutes, a strange looking man wearing blue jeans and a white polo shirt walked into the bank. I was working with a customer, but the man in the white polo looked odd and out of place. Every since I’d had some things stolen from my apartment in the past, I always seemed to be looking over my shoulder for some reason.
“That’s two hundred dollars,” I said to Mr. Perkins. He was at least a hundred years old and couldn’t hear me anyway, but I counted it out in front of him.
“Thank you, Amy. I love coming in here just to see you.” He patted my hand and gave it a squeeze. Offering him a half-smile, I watched as he took his walker and headed past the man in the jeans and white polo who was leaning against the wall with crossed arms, staring at everyone—especially me.
I picked up my phone and dialed the number for the security guard. “Benny, who’s the guy at the wall wearing the white shirt and jeans?” Benny was old, maybe sixty, with coke bottle glasses and a hearing aid. He didn’t do much to make me feel safe, but he was better than nothing.
“Guy? Wall? Jeans?” He yelled over the phone so loudly, everyone in the place could hear him, and all turned to see him on his cell phone—even the man in jeans.
I turned my back to the door. “Benny, not so loudly! He’ll hear you.”
The door to the bank opened with a tinkle of the bell, but I ignored it. “Benny, I have to go, but keep an eye on things.”
“Sure!” he yelled. I didn’t need to listen over the phone, because I could hear him yelling the whole way across the room.
A rapping at my station had me spinning around while I hung up the phone. My mouth fell down as I stared in shock. “Mark? Dr. Urban?” Both men stood in front of me, and neither one looked very happy.
“We need to talk to you,” Mark said.
“You do?”
“Yes, we do,” Dr. Urban said. “I was pulled out of my class just to come to see you.” He opened a folder in his hand, took out a stapled set of papers, and laid it on the counter.
Studying the top page, I realized it was the final exam for my class. “What? But I’m taking this tonight. Why do you have it here, now? I have to work.”
“You’re done,” Mr. Johnson said, from behind me. “Take the rest of the day off, and you can use my desk to take the test.”
“Do you have your final project done?” Dr. Urban asked.
“Sure. It’s in my car. But what’s this all about?”
Mark leaned closer, looking almost grim. “Someone from the police department just called me. It seems that my lunch date wanted to know who I was, and I figured we needed to get to know each other better. So, I’ve made…arrangements for you to finish your test early, get out of work early, and go to dinner with me. Right now.”
“Dinner? At one o’clock in the afternoon? You can’t do that. I have to take the test tonight and finish my work.”
“Nope. All expenses paid vacation day,” Mr. Johnson said, still standing behind me. “Now go to my office, get the test done, and hand in your project. You’re done for the day.”
I glanced over at the man in jeans, then leaned closer to Mark and Dr. Urban, motioning for Mr. Johnson to join us. The four of us stood close in a huddle.
“Look. That man at the wall dressed in jeans has been standing there since I got back from lunch. I don’t trust him and can’t just walk away. What if he’s a bank robber?”
All three men turned toward the man in jeans. “What man?” Dr. Urban asked, facing me again. “Are you delusional, suffering from burnout from too many classes?”
I looked up. The man was gone. I looked a second time, but he was definitely not there. “Where did he go?”
Mark picked up the test and handed it to me. “Doesn’t matter. Take the test and let’s get going. I have a schedule.”
“A schedule?”
Dr. Urban checked his watch. “Me too. Hurry up.”
“I can get your project from the car,” Mark said, holding out his hand. “I need your keys.”
“I can get it.” I pulled my keys from my purse, under the teller’s window.
“No, you have a test to take.” Mark kept his hand outstretched for the keys. “Which car and where is it in the car?”
I put the keys in his hand, the warmth of the touch incredible as I tried to remember his questions. “The project’s on the passenger’s seat in a manila folder. My car’s the blue clunker across the street at the grocery store.”
Mark looked confused. Welcome to my world, buddy. “Why are you parked across the street?” he asked.
“Because her car’s an eyesore,” Mr. Johnson answered. “We have a reputation to uphold.”
“Oh, I see.” He nodded, but he didn’t look like he got it.
Wait until he saw my car. He’d really understand, then.
I took a deep breath, grabbed the test and a pencil from my station, then walked into Mr. Johnson’s office. As soon as he closed the door behind me, I could hear the three men laughing and whispering. Whatever floated their boats.
After answering everything on the very simple final exam in about twenty minutes, I walked out to see the three men sitting in the lobby, drinking sodas. They were all laughing, and I was sure it was about me. I grabbed my purse at my station on the way to join them.
“Oh, you’re done!” Mark said to me. “Just in time.”
“For what?”
“Oh, you’ll see.”
I handed the test to Dr. Urban, who graded it right in front of all of us, which was our arrangement. He put an A+ at the top, grinned, then stood up.
“It was a pleasure having you in my class,” he said, shaking my hand. “Now I have to go back to work.” He turned toward Mark. “I’m glad I could help.” He shook Mark’s and Mr. Johnson’s hands, then walked out of the bank. It was the oddest thing I’d ever witnessed. What did he help Mark with, anyway, other than harassing me early with a final exam?
“Good luck,” Mr. Johnson said, patting me on the back. He walked away.
“Ready to go?” Mark asked me.
“To dinner?”
“No. We have a few stops to make, first.” He took my hand and walked me toward the door. “You need a new car. I agree with your boss.”
“What kind of stops?”
He just grinned and walked outside with me toward a small red sports car.
“Is this your car?” I asked, pointing.
“Sure. Why?”
“They pay programmers well at Madcap.”
He chuckled, then bit his lips. “Sure do. Now I have a few places to take you. Are you game?”
“Where are you taking me?” For some reason I trusted this guy, which made me worried. I knew better.
“Just some fun places. I promise it’s very innocent.” He unlocked the passenger’s side door with the remote on his key chain, then opened the door for me. “Why are you so untrusting?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I started to get into the car, but his hand on my arm stopped me. “I will worry about it.” He leaned closer. “What’s going on?”
He probably thought I was psycho, so I bit my lips and pasted a smile on my face. “Nothing. Now what did you want to show me?”
“It’s now a secret. Two can play that game.” He helped me into the bucket seat on the passenger’s side of the car, then walked around to his side. He got in, revved the motor, pulled out, and drove down the street.
“I’m not playing any games,” I said, crossing my arms. “Put yourself in my shoes for a minute. I’m chased by a man in black over lunch, run into you, literally, and when we’re eating lunch, you make a phone call to someone while watching the door. And to top it all off, you pull some sort of strings that get me out of work and make me take my test a few hours early while a potential bank robber is watching me. What would you think?”
“I guess I’d be a little leery, too.”
“So where are we going?” We passed by some businesses on the streets, then I turned back to him when he didn’t answer me. “Well?”
He glanced in the rearview mirror. “Just sit back and relax. We’re going to have fun today.”
“Great.” I just hoped it wasn’t psycho fun.
~~~~~
Chapter 2
Something wasn’t right. Opening my eyes, I saw sunshine, then slammed them shut from the pain caused by the bright light. Reopening them just a bit, I looked around the room. I was in a bed but didn’t recognize any of my surroundings. Knowing I wasn’t supposed to be here, I hoped I was still on the west coast of Florida.
It suddenly hit me. This was probably Mark’s house. What was I doing in his bed? I hardly knew the guy.
The shower turned off and I spun toward the noise. My head hurt and I really needed to go home. Pushing myself up was tough, and I fell back to the bed. This was harder than I thought. I shouldn’t have gone to meet some of his programmer friends at Madcap the day before, shouldn’t have traveled up the coast to see the beaches, and certainly shouldn’t have had dinner and shared a bottle of wine with the man. I had to get out of this place.
Just as I forced myself up to a sitting position and put my foot on the floor, Mark walked into the room. When I turned toward him, I fell off the bed with my face landing in the thick, soft carpet.
Mark lifted me and put me back in the bed. “How do you feel?”
I closed my eyes. “I think I want to die. What time is it?”
“Ten.”
“Ten? In the morning? I have to get to work! I’m late.” Even though I tried to sit up, he pushed me back on the bed, hovering over me as he sat down beside me. Now I knew why I was here. He was a nice guy and protected me from the thug following me at the beach the day before, and even bought me lunch and dinner...I think. The whole day was kind of a haze in my mind.
“You called in sick today,” he said.
“I did? I don’t remember that.” Oh man. That was some wine.
“I did it for you.”
“The bank manager isn’t going to like that. The nasty one’s on duty today.”
He stroked my hair. “I think you’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”
I held my head and ears. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Can you quit yelling? You’ve been so nice to me and I hate to ask you, but my head is killing me.”
Mark tried not to laugh as he moved off the bed and knelt in front of me. “Is this better?” he whispered.
“It’s still loud,” I whispered back. “But I bet that’s as quiet as you can get, huh?”
“Yeah. Is the room still spinning like it was a few hours ago?”
“Not really, but don’t tempt it. It might start. Rooms are tricky things and you never know.”
Mark stroked my hair while chuckling.
“Did I say anything I’d regret last night?” I asked. “Wait, don’t answer that, because I really don’t want to know, do I?”
“Are you talking about before or after you pulled me onto the bed?” he whispered.
“You’re kidding!” Holding my head, I tried to lessen the pain from the noise I made with my voice. I really hoped I didn’t do anything I’d regret, because I hardly knew the guy.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I will worry about it. You probably hate me and want me to leave right now. I can’t blame you.” I tried to get out of bed, but he stood and pushed me back to the pillow, then leaned over and kissed my cheek.
“I’d rather be nowhere else but right here with you. I really enjoyed our date.”
“Date? I thought we were going out for a celebration after you showed me your job and we went up the coast?”
“Well, after you hugged me, I figured—”
“I hugged you? I don’t really remember much of any of that.”
“You hugged me in the restaurant, then saluted me. Don’t you remember that?”
“Not really. What else did I do?” I could only imagine.
His smile was adorable. “I’ll tell you some time. Would you like something to eat?”
“I don’t think so. I really need to get home.” As I looked downward, panic filled my thoughts. “What happened to my clothes?” I was wearing someone else’s tee shirt and sweatpants and they definitely weren’t the skirt and blouse I’d worn the day before.
“You kind of vomited on your clothes, so I helped you out.”
My face paled while staring at him, imagining the worst. I yanked out the front of the tee shirt and stared down my top. “What happened to my bra?” My hands flew to my ears and I winced from the sound of my own voice.
Mark shot me a sheepish grin. “You kind of tore it off and swung it around the room,” he whispered.
I kept my hands on my ears. “I what?”
“Don’t worry about it. I laughed, because it was funny.”
“Not funny. You must think I’m a floozy or something!” I had to run away from this adorable man and never show my face in public again. Considering he knew the cops, I was doomed.
He grinned and held my hand, then leaned down and gave me a gentle, probing kiss. Backing away, he stroked my cheek. “You’re not a floozy, but you’re fun when you’re drunk.”
I touched my lips from the heat, trying to remember anything. “Did I…”
“Kiss me?” he asked.
I nodded. “Or anything else?”
“Before or after you tried to undress me?”
My hand flew up, covering my eyes. “I’m not like that. I’m a good girl.”
“Nothing happened, but I did enjoy it.”
I had to face him and I knew it. Removing my hand from my eyes, I returned my gaze to his beautiful smile. “I just bet you enjoyed it. I need to go home to get my own clothes and a shower. I’m too embarrassed right now.”
He nodded down to my chest. “You can stay here in that if you want. I don’t mind. There’s no reason to be embarrassed.” He glanced at my outfit. “You’re really cute in my clothes.”
“Oh, very funny.”
“I was being serious. But I’ll take you home if you want, on one condition.”
I faced him with one eye shut while holding my head from the pain. “What’s that?”
“I get to stay with you. I don’t want you being alone like this.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“But I want to. Since you were being followed at the beach yesterday, I want to make sure you’re safe.” His smile and dimples were just getting annoying. “You’re also a lot of fun, especially when you’re drunk.”
“Don’t remind me,” I whispered. “My head really hurts. What’s good for a hangover?”
“I have something ready for you, whenever you’re ready to take it. I found the best cure on the Internet.”
“Bring it on.”
He left the room with a chuckle. After returning with a big glass of something reddish orange, he handed me the drink and some aspirin.
“Bottom’s up.” After sitting up and popping the aspirin, I downed the huge drink with a gulp and a smile, then wiped my lips with my arm. “Oh, that was fun. Have any more?”
“No, but I have ice for your head.”
“Really? Think that’ll work?”
“I know it will.” He left the room with my empty glass and returned with a bag of ice, plopping it onto my head.
“That’s really cold,” I said with my eyes closed.
“I think that’s part of the definition of ice.”
I put my head in my hands. “Can I go home now?”
“Sure. Need help getting out of bed?”
“I’m fine.” I put my foot down on the floor and held onto the ice. As soon as I stood up, my knees buckled and I started to fall, but not before Mark caught me.
“Yep. Thought so.” He lifted me up and carried me out into the hallway while I held the ice on my head.
“You really don’t have to carry me.”
He carried me down the stairs while I watched his face. “Yes, I do,” he said. “I’m the one who made you drink the wine.”
“So this is a guilt release? Take care of me and you won’t feel guilty?”
He began to laugh, almost dropping me. “No.” He took me out the garage door then put me into the passenger’s side of the car, buckling my seat belt. “When a woman tells me she loves me and wants to have my children on the first date, then begins to even name the children—”
“I what?” I held my head and closed my eyes. Everything hurt.
He laughed as he closed my door with a loud bang and walked around the car to the driver’s seat. After he got inside, he reached over and touched my arm. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to cause you pain.”
“Can you close the car door quietly?”
He yanked it shut—but it was still loud—then opened the garage door with a remote, the sound of the gears grinding in my ears.
“I’m so sorry for saying I wanted to have your children,” I said. “Are you sure it was me?”
“Absolutely sure, and I liked some of the names you picked out, too.” He chuckled, then started the car and backed out of the garage, lowering the garage door. “I find it interesting that you didn’t apologize for telling me you love me. Does that mean you love me?”
“I hardly know you,” I whispered. “Don’t confuse me with the facts.”
Mark tried not to laugh, but it wasn’t working. “Do you think you can drive now?” he asked me.
“I have no idea.” The sun was killing me, but I forced my eyes open, making them water from the bright light.
He glanced over at me then looked back at the road. “I was going to get your car, but I don’t think that’s a good idea. Where do you live?”
I directed him to my apartment and he parked in the front. He helped me out of the car then grabbed my purse. “Are your keys in here?”
“Yes.” I pulled them from inside my purse, fiddled with them for a minute, then held one key in my hand. He took them from me with a smile, then carried me to the door, because I was wearing no shoes, while I held the bag of ice on my head.
After Mark put me down at the front door, he unlocked it then helped me up the old stairs to my apartment on the third floor. He unlocked my door with a second key while I checked the hallway all around us.
“Looking for someone?” he asked.
“Just checking.” It was routine for me to look for bad people, but he’d never understand. No normal person would.
We entered the tiny apartment and I locked the door behind him, flipping the deadbolt as well. The apartment had an open floor plan with a small living room beside a kitchenette with a center island and space for a table beside that. The bedroom was down a hallway off the living room, across the hall from a small bathroom.
“Are you scared in here?” he asked, watching me.
“No, not at all.” I threw my purse on the island and the ice in the kitchen sink, then picked up a baseball bat leaning by the front door. Lifting the bat, I slung it onto my right shoulder, then went into the bedroom and bathroom, flipping on lights as I went. As soon as I entered the living room again, I put the bat back by the door.
Mark shook his head, his eyebrows furrowed. “Are you sure you’re not scared?”
“No, why do you ask?”
He pointed to my weapon of choice. “The baseball bat, maybe?”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m going to take a shower, if that’s okay with you.”
“No problem.” Mark looked around the apartment. “You don’t have much furniture, do you?”
“I have what I need, and that’s enough.”
“But you have two folding chairs, a TV on plastic boxes, and what else?”
“I have a bed. It’s enough.” I hated people looking down on me. They didn’t get it.
“You don’t have a table in this place? No couch, no dresser?”
He must not have been a minimalist. “Don’t need them.”
“Or is it that you can’t afford them?” he said. “You know, Madcap would love to talk to you with that background of yours. Those people yesterday enjoyed our conversation about their programming, because you understood what they did and even had more ideas for them they hadn’t considered.”
I faced him, ignoring his attempt at pleasantries. “How do you know about my background and what I can afford?”
He looked like a deer caught in headlights. “You told me last night when you were drunk. You said you’d taken a course in cryptology and I told you to put your name in with Madcap. You said—”
“Madcap just programs games! I’m not a games programmer. I told them that yesterday, too.”
He grinned. “So you remember the conversation.”
“Not really, but it’s the truth. My master’s degree will be in Mathematics and Business Computing, not games programming. Why would the best gaming company want to talk to me, anyway?”
“You’re smart? You had some great ideas for them yesterday, and when we drove up the coast, you gave me some more fantastic innovations that’ll keep my bosses happy for years.”
He was making a mountain out of a molehill. “I’m not what Madcap wants and you know it.”
With his hand on my arm, he stopped me from going to take a shower. “I really want you to put your résumé in with Madcap, please? You’d be able to live in a more secure place and actually have furniture.”
“I do have furniture.” I waved my hand toward a folding chair. “Make yourself at home.” Walking toward the bedroom, I ignored his comment, grabbed some clothes from my closet then went into the bathroom. After I undressed and warmed up the water for the shower, I stepped inside and let the trickle pour over my head. I had the worst headache, but at least it was starting to feel better. Mark’s cure might just work.
I poured shampoo on my hair and worked it into the long strands, wondering about his company. Granted, the programmers were nice enough, but they certainly wouldn’t want me with my background.
Suddenly, the door to the bathroom creaked open.
“Amy?”
I kept my voice calm. “What are you doing in here?”
“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
I closed my eyes and let the water pour over my hair. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Can I help you?”
“No, you don’t need to see me naked.” What was he thinking?
“I already saw that after you stripped and danced naked for me last night.”
“I…what?” I covered myself and could only think the worst.
“Don’t worry about it. Nothing happened. Are you sure you don’t need help?”
“No thanks. I’ll be out in a few minutes. Just wait for me in the living room.”
“I can’t. I’m worried that you might fall over.”
“I’ll be fine, I promise.” Facing forward, I leaned against the wall of the shower with my eyes shut. I didn’t feel very well. Never again would I drink a drop of alcohol.
“You don’t look fine to me.” The voice came from behind me inside the shower. I jumped, turning my head to see him.
“I’m fine,” I answered, covering myself with my arms. “I’ll be out in a minute, and I promise.”
“Nice body, by the way.” He chuckled, closed the shower curtain and left me alone.
“Thanks, I guess.”
I heard him walk out of the bathroom, then took a deep breath and finished my shower. He was either a psycho or he really cared about me. Considering I was still alive after whatever happened the night before, I was leaning toward the latter.
I turned off the shower, grabbed a towel, then dried my hair inside the shower, squeezing out the water from the ends. Mark kept going through my thoughts. What really happened the night before? Bits and pieces came back to me, the more I thought about it. We’d spent time together at Madcap, then took a trip up and down the coast, hunting for seashells and walking on different beaches. After spending a wonderful afternoon, we walked into the restaurant and sat down at a table filled with red roses. He poured us some wine, and that was all I remembered until I woke up.
I dried myself off and inched back the shower curtain, checking to make sure I was alone. The door to the bathroom was shut, so I opened the curtain farther, stepped out and got dressed. After I combed my hair, I brushed my teeth, then applied some makeup over my pasty, hangover-looking skin. Alcohol was not my friend and I decided that was my new mantra.
The phone rang as I applied some makeup. “Can you get that?” I yelled into the living room.
“Sure.”
I heard a ‘hello’, then ‘yes, this is her apartment’. I didn’t hear much more, because I decided to dry my hair, since it was dripping. Whoever it was could wait, because the only people who ever called me were my brothers, telemarketers and…Connor. Uh-oh.
I flipped off the hair dryer and ran into the kitchen, where Mark was in a heated discussion on the phone.
“No, she’s with me today.”
Uh-oh, just as I thought—Connor. I held out my hand for the phone while Mark smiled and shook his head.
“Sorry, buddy, it’s over and you lost.” He hung up the phone and grinned.
“Connor?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
He nodded, his hands flying to his waist. “How long has he been playing psychological games with you, anyway?”
“Two years, and I’m not sure if they’re psychological games either.”
“Oh, yes they are. He even has you doubting his technique. I’m really glad he’s gone and you were at the beach yesterday.”
“Yeah?” I asked with a grin. “I vaguely remember that. Hot dogs, right?”
“Yep. You’re better off without that psycho. He was even trying to get into my head.”
“He’ll be here soon. He lives about a mile away, and I don’t keep that bat at the door just for security purposes.”
“I say we leave right now.”
“But I was going to eat breakfast.” I pulled a bowl out of the cabinet, then opened a drawer for a spoon.
“You don’t have anything to eat in the fridge anyway.” He put the bowl away then grabbed my hand. “Come on, let’s go.”
“But—”
“No buts,” he said. “I’m paying.”
I stopped him before he opened the door. “You think of me as a charity case, don’t you?”
“No. I think of you as very strong, very bright, and independent.” He looked around the living room. “Anyone who has the tenacity to stay here by themselves is a force to be reckoned with.”
I put Mark’s clothes that I’d been wearing into a bag and we left the apartment. Just as Mark opened the passenger’s car door for me, an older four-door lime green car pulled into the parking lot.
“Who’s that?” Mark asked.
“Connor. Let’s get out of here.” I hopped into my seat.
Before Mark could run around to his side, Connor—a small wiry man with thick glasses and a black beard—got out of his car and stormed over toward us. I looked at Connor—Mr. Negative Seventeen—then at Mark—a definite twenty, who was muscular and much cuter than Connor could ever be. What was I ever thinking when I went out with the psycho idiot? Even Mark’s red sports car was a lot cooler than Connor’s lime green clunker.
“Who are you?” Connor yelled.
“I’m a friend of hers,” Mark said. “And she’s with me today. You’re out of luck.”
Connor ran to Mark with his arm swinging toward Mark’s face. Mark ducked, grabbed Connor’s arm and twisted it behind him, slamming his head down onto the hood of the red sports car.
“I don’t think you want to do that,” Mark said, getting closer to Connor’s face.
Just as I’d opened the door and gotten out of the car to protect Mark, a van pulled up and four huge men hopped out, approaching Mark and Connor.
“Is there a problem here, sir?” the biggest of the men asked.
I couldn’t believe my ears. “Sir?” I looked at Mark with my mouth opened then stared at all of the men. They had muscles upon muscles and appeared to be military in their mannerisms. They were dressed in black pants and black polo shirts that had a logo of a hat on the shirt, with the name ‘Madcap’ under the logo. I recognized one of them as the man in black who was following me at the beach the day before, and another as the man in the bank with the white shirts and jeans. Taking a step backward, I just watched them, more out of curiosity than fear. This was weirder than I’d ever imagined. Why would Madcap men follow me on a walk to the beach and stand in our lobby at the bank?
“I’d like this man arrested for attempted assault,” Mark said, nodding toward Connor. “Tell Larry to keep him for a while, because I don’t want to be bothered today.”