by Tammy Lewis
road ice cream. Handing him a spoon, he smiled, pulling me
down on to his lap. Feeling his arms surround me, I placed
the blanket over us both and lifting the tv remote, I returned
to the next episode of the series.
“I’ve seen this one,” he urged.
Instantly pausing the episode, I turned to him, eyes widened
in horror “no spoilers please,” I pleaded.
Only for him to grin, point at the screen and reply, “he’s not
the killer and his wife is definitely not buried under the family
patio.”
Furious, I looked at him with wider eyes, standing to leave, to
storm off, when he pulled me back into him.
“I was only teasing,” he pleaded, taking a heaped spoon of his
ice cream and offering me some.
Forgiving him instantly, taking the spoon and placing it
straight into my mouth, I sat there once more. Cuddled up in
his embrace, forgetting all of the drama that this weekend had
brought, for the both of us. Settled, in a distant gaze I asked,
“so what happens next?”
Only for him to laugh and reply, “Dom’, I thought that you
said no spoilers.”
Shaking my head, I asked, “no, all of this Quinn and Francis
nonsense.”
Exhaling deeply, sure that Marcus didn’t want to speak of it
either, he replied, “well Francis is definitely not getting a
second date. Though I can’t decide whether or not, you want to bury Quinn under that guys patio along with his wife, or
possibly accept his proposal for a fourth date.”
Noticing Marcus’s eyes focus on me, in the corner of my eye.
Sure, of the fury that they contained, I didn’t answer, certain
that I didn’t have the answers either.
When suddenly Marcus stated, “do you know what Dom’,
growing up I always wanted a kid sister.”
Only for me to give out a large yawn and reply, “well that’s
great Marcus, because I never ever wanted an older brother.”
Chapter 11
Monday morning came around fast, feeling somewhat
disappointed that I had wasted the entire weekend nursing
the hangover from hell. Seated at my office desk, I heard a
knock at the door, up to my eyeballs in paperwork, I called
out “come in.”
Noticing Ashlee open the door, greeting me with a huge smile,
holding a small white box in her left hand. Confused I asked,
“please don’t tell me that’s the blueprints, for our latest
campaign.”
Sure, that it was the only delivery that I had been waiting for.
Placing the small box down in front of me, she replied, “I
don’t think that it is.”
Curious I pulled the box towards me, watching Ashlee’s face
fill with both excitement and pure curiosity.
Almost bouncing up and down on the spot, she called out,
“Dom’, you’re killing me! Please open it!”
Watching the sheer disappointment consume her face, when I
pulled out a jar of peanut butter, fashioning a tiny pink bow
from the box. Placing it down on to my desk, feeling my
cheeks shine a little brighter, I noticed a post-it-note,
attached to the jar. It read: -
To Ms Honey Bee,
Thank you for Saturday!
Mr Bigshot.
Laughing, while Ashlee looked on confused. Lifting the jar,
she stated, “I don’t get it. Don’t guys usually send chocolates,
or flowers. Who on earth is Mr Bigshot? Is this one of those
sordid things, that I just couldn’t possibly understand?”
Ignoring her questions, I handed her some urgent paperwork,
instructing her, trying to fix her focus, when thankfully she
began to return to her role as my PA. Sure that I didn’t know
where to begin, to even try to explain, what on earth was
going on between Quinn and I.
Deep in thought and miles away, reading through a mound of
paperwork, hearing my phone, glancing over, I noticed a
message from Quinn, it read: -
“Morning Honey Bee, just a quick message concerning
payment for your bar tab and bid/win for Saturday’s
auction…”
Instantly furious, without even thinking, I text him back: -
“You’re kidding, right?? You invited me. I told you, if I had to
play pretend, I was certainly not doing it sober. And as for the
auction, you wanted the trip to Rome, I suggest you take it.”
Throwing my phone down on to the desk in disgust, wishing that he could have been in the same room as me right now.
Just so that I could punch him straight in his pompous nose.
Hearing my phone once more, almost too angry to even look.
Though curiosity certainly got the better of me, taking my
phone to read: -
“I could always waiver it…”
Intrigued, I text: -
“How??”
Tossing the phone back on to the desk, angrily awaiting his
reply, sure that whatever game he was playing, I certainly was
not participating. Glaring at the phone until the message
appeared. Opening it to read: -
“That’s easy Ms Stone. Fourth date and accompany me to
Rome.”
Laughing loud, sure that this had been his plan all along.
Certain that I owed him absolutely nothing, yet compelled to
show him that I could not be blackmailed or bought. I text: -
“Who should I make the cheque payable to?”
Once again feeling in control, I threw my phone on to my
desk, feeling a devilish glare take over my entire face.
Increasingly becoming intrigued when his final message
arrived. It read: -
“Okay, have it your way Ms Stone!”
Grinning hard, I thought to myself, ‘well played Mr H, but
you certainly don’t know who or what you are playing with.’
Shifting my focus, opening up my personal email folder,
noticing that my services were yet again required. With two
possible cases that could have been taken on, focusing on the
first that had been received. In some sort of first come, first
served basis order. Reading through the details, taking notes, I summoned Marcus, sure that I needed to discuss everything
with him, before I proceeded further.
Seated facing me, at the other side of my desk, glaring at the
jar of peanut butter before him, Marcus looked less than
amused.
“Dom’, it sounds like yet another set up. Daniel Blackstein,
where have I heard that name before?” Marcus mulled.
Continuing, he asked “Dom’, this guy is in his late 50′s, what
could he possibly want with someone of your age?”
Taking my tablet computer into a free conference room, I left
Marcus deep in thought. All while I made a call, taking the
first steps to prove that this latest case, was exactly as it
seemed.
Trailing through all of the details of tonight’s case, we headed
over to the chosen club for tonight’s trap. Positive that Quinn
was going to make an appearance, I already had a few tricks
up my sleeve. I was sure that sabotage was not playing a part
in tonight’s plans. Entering the club through a side entrance, I
could see Quinn exactly a
s expected, seated in the distance.
Looking over to my objective, circled by a fleet of men in
suits. Holding my nerve, I approached the bar beside them.
Making eye contact with Mr Blackstein, instantly I could see
him return my gaze.
Catching Quinn in the corner of my eye, approach the bar,
with him trying to fathom, who or what my target was, I
watched him instantly turn pale. Confused I frowned at him,
standing to march through to the ladies’ bathroom, hoping
that he would follow, giving me the opportunity to get him
thrown out. Instead I found myself alone, at the bathroom
mirror, regaining my focus and control.
Walking back through into the club, from the bathroom.
Returning to my position, I could see Quinn now seated up at
the bar. The only problem being, he looked even more
anxious than before. His boyish, devilish grin had been wiped
clean from his smug face. It was then that I began doubting
everything, wondering was this his new game, a new tactic, to
throw me off and to make me lose focus.
Seating myself back up at the bar, away from Quinn. I
watched Mr Blackstein, watch me over his drink. Gaining his
full attention, closely following the profile that his wife had
sent over, that had portrayed the older man. A guy at the
brink of a midlife crisis, with a sweet tooth for a younger,
sweet, innocent, naive girl, sure that I was depicting each and
every detail correctly. Confident I sat there, when Quinn,
looking as though he was unable to hold his tongue or his
nerve a second longer, approached me.
Brushing off his advances, noticing his face consumed by
something grave, I whispered, “leave, or I will have you
thrown out.”
Shaking his head, he replied, “I can’t let you go through with
this.”
Getting completely fed up of him, continuing to call the shots,
annoyed I asked “and give me one good reason why I
shouldn’t.”
Noticing Marcus appear behind him, his face too filled with a
dead urgency, he demanded “Honey, no questions. It’s time
to leave!”
Chapter 12
Feeling a large hand grasp the entirety of my upper arm. I turned to face Mr Blackstein, innocently smiling up into his
bright blue eyes, that oozed a severity of confidence and
charm. Glaring over at Quinn and Marcus, he asked,
“sweetheart, are these men bothering you?”
Unsure how to even begin to answer, wanting so badly to
follow protocol and do the job that I had been contracted to
fulfil. Yet feeling an unwanted sensation of fear, curdle in the
pit of my stomach, undoubtedly sure that something was
wrong. Hating myself for allowing Marcus and Quinn to take
control, confused at their concerns, but wanting to hear them
out so badly, before proceeding any further.
Fluttering my eyelashes at Mr Blackstein, reaching out my
hand to shake his, coyly I replied “hi, I’m Honey Wade, I’m an
actress. These gentlemen here are movie executives, I’m here
for an interview to audition. I’m hoping to get the lead in a
new teen drama. Wish me luck.”
Standing before him, I could see him focus his eyes on to my
fitted, pale lemon dress, admiring every inch of me before
him. Taking my hand, he brought it up to his lips, hypnotizing
me with his deep blue eyes. Feeling his lips grace my closed
fist, he replied, “it was so lovely to meet you Honey. Once
you’ve finished your interview, I would love for you to join
me. I’m sure that we can come up with some way, of
celebrating your new job.”
Winking at me, he then switched his focus, over my shoulder,
glaring at Quinn and Marcus stood behind me. Almost
pressuring them, into offering me the imaginary job.
Shivering from head to toe, wanting to scrub each and every
part of my skin that he had touched. I joined Marcus and
Quinn over at a table in the corner. Sure, that we were being
watched closely. Looking at them both consecutively, I asked
“what is your problem, are you both working together now? I have him exactly where I want him, where is his wife, Gloria?”
Looking over at Marcus, Quinn asked, “are you going to tell
her, or should I?”
Seemingly pressured, Marcus spoke, “Dom’, I need to get you
out of here as quick as possible. He has his sights firmly set
on you.”
Confused, sure that was the reason behind why we were here,
to obtain his focus and out him as a cheat. I asked, “Marcus,
why is he any different, then any of the others?”
Waiting for him to reply, I stood, watching the despair
consume Quinn’s face, he urged “Domini, I don’t care what
happens to me. But I’m not letting you go back over there
with him.”
Annoyed I asked them both, “just give me one good reason,
why I can’t.”
Looking at them in turn, waiting for an answer, something,
anything.
Marcus broke the silence, he replied, “Dom’ he’s a predator.
Quinn has filled me in, on all of the cases that he has against
him. Sexual assault cases, that have been hidden, brushed
under the carpet. All concerning young vulnerable women,
cornered by him and his entourage. If I let you leave with
him, the group that he is with, will follow behind. I can’t
guarantee your safety, if I can’t get to you.”
Seating myself back down slowly, feeling a fear surge
throughout my entire body I asked, “and what makes you so
sure, that Mr Pretentious here, is telling us the truth?”
Taking his phone from his pocket, Marcus passed it over to
me, displaying an archived news article, of a TV sports
presenter, Mr Daniel Blackstein. The falsely accused, sexual
predator, un-convicted on numerous occasions, due to lack of evidence, following the statements of his entourage,
confirming his innocence.
Upset at the reasons why I had been hired, I asked, “why
would his wife place me in this position?”
While watching the movements closely of the group behind
me, Marcus replied, “because it’s her chance to catch him out,
to finally get the truth out there, to the public. Calling you in,
a professional. Someone with knowledge and maturity
beyond their years. I guess that she would be almost certain,
that you would have dealt with this type of situation,
numerous times before.”
Consumed by vulnerability, I asked “what do we do?”
Marcus replied, “there are 6 of them and Mr Blackstein, that’s
7 of them and 2 of us.”
Hearing Quinn intervene, he suggested, “I am not going to sit
back and let anything happen to you.”
Watching Marcus, turn to face him, rolling his eyes, as though
there was no point whatsoever in him even being here.
Marcus assured, that being a TV personality, Mr Blackstein
wouldn’t have wanted to have made a scene. Though certain
that he wouldn’t have let me leave, without putting on the
pressure and putting up
some sort of fight. With the
possibility that he may have had the security here, under his
control, taking out Marcus and Quinn. I would have been left,
completely at his mercy.
When instantly I could see both Quinn’s and Marcus’s eyes
widen in horror, feeling a firm, heavy hand, placed on to my
bare shoulder. Sending a surge of fear throughout my entire
body, hearing the words, “gentlemen, please put this young
lady out of her misery, so that we can go and celebrate her new job.”
Glaring at Marcus, unsure what to do, Marcus piped up, with
an almost robotic response, replying “yes Miss Wade,
congratulations. Without a shadow of doubt, you have the
job. After seeing all of your credentials, along with this
interview. All of the other talent and applications, have
completely gone out of the window.”
Taking in Marcus’s choice of words I stood, turning to face Mr
Blackstein, I excused myself, needing to use the ladies, to go
and ‘freshen up.’
Hearing Marcus and Quinn stand also, being thanked by Mr
Blackstein for adhering to his requests. I charged towards the
restrooms, feeling his entourage watch me very closely.
Reaching the ladies bathroom, climbing up on to the window
ledge, opening out the window as fully as I could. I exhaled
deeply in relief, when Marcus and Quinn were there in the
alleyway beneath, ready and willing to break my fall.
Wriggling through, with my arms out in front of me, trusting
them both, I let myself fall. Catching me instantly, Marcus
took me into his arms, charging towards the carpark, to the
safety of his waiting car.
Climbing into the rear seat and laying myself down, out of
sight. It was then that the adrenaline charged through my
veins. Feeling Marcus turn the car at a great speed, shooting
off in the direction of home. Consumed by fear and anguish,
Marcus yelled out “that’s it! Dom’, I’m putting my foot down.
Tonight, was definitely the last time.”
Still overwhelmed with fear, yet hating that somehow Marcus
felt that he could begin to call the shots. Sitting up, leaning
through to his seat, instantly regretting each and every word,
I asked, “so who died and made you the boss?”
Feeling the car come to an almighty stop, watching the dust from the road shoot through the air around us, rejecting the
abrupt stopping of the tyres speedy treads.