by Mac Flynn
"Isn't that going to cost a mint? Newspapers don't usually run on Sundays," I pointed out.
"It will, but since Cecil and I have a controlling interest in the company the editorial board had a hard time saying no. We also expect this to be a huge hit with the public so in the long run the paper will make back the costs."
I snorted. "You're starting to sound like the bold businessman I knew you could be, and you're out in public without a chaperon."
He smiled and glanced back at me. "You're with me," he reminded me.
I waved aside his comment. "Right now, but nobody got you into this car and drove you to my place," I argued.
He shrugged. "I suppose I didn't want to sit in my study moping for the rest of my life."
I wrapped my arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek. With the unexpected distraction he nearly drove us off the road. "I'm proud of you."
"Don't be proud of me yet, you haven't seen me exact revenge on my enemies," he playfully countered.
"But they're my enemies, too," I reminded him. "And on that note, you got as far as telling they were going to be humiliated in your paper, but not why we're going to the Reporter's Dinner."
"That's for the revenge on Mr. Parks," John told me. "He's made quite a name for himself snooping into our lives and we're going to show him how wrong he is."
"By barging into the Dinner and doing what?"
"Not barging, sneaking in and presenting ourselves to the public as the romantic couple we truly are."
"Is that what we are?" I coyly wondered.
"Unless you have other ideas."
"Maybe I didn't miss you during all those long days."
"Then those days wouldn't have been long, and you wouldn't have slapped me."
"You got me there. I'm always violent towards the ones I love."
"Violently in love with them," he corrected me.
"All right, lover boy, how are we supposed to sneak in and present ourselves as the love-sick couple?"
He jerked his thumb back to the rear seats. "There's a package in the trunk from the theater department. They designed some disguises for us so we could sneak in, and Cecil pulled some strings to get us a pair of tickets with fake names on them."
"Does Cecil control the entire city?" I half-seriously asked him.
"Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to," he scolded me.
"Fine, but I do want to know what we're supposed to do once we get inside."
John smirked and pulled off into an alley a block away from the convention center. "That's something you'll have to trust me on, but I'll give you a signal to take off your disguise." He turned off the engine and got out. I followed, and remembered a problem when I nearly shut the door on Sassy's face.
"But what about Sassy?" I reminded him.
"I have someone in mind to babysit her, but we won't be gone too long," he told me.
I raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Does this person know they're going to be the babysitter?"
John smiled back. "Not yet, but I don't think Uncle Cecil will mind too much."
"You might be mistaken in that assumption," a voice spoke up. I yelped and jumped against John, and Cecil emerged from the shadows wearing a smirk. "Sorry about that, bad habit."
"I don't see a problem with this situation," John quipped.
I growled and pushed myself away from him. "Who needs enemies when I have you two plotting against me?"
"Enemies are exactly what we're here to deal with, so focus on them," Cecil scolded.
"Are the leaflets ready?" John asked him.
In response Cecil pulled out a pack of leaflets and handed them to his nephew. "See for yourself."
I slipped against John's side and looked over the pieces of paper. They were announcements for the following day's special newspaper printing, complete with a few intimate pictures of Monroe and Sievers. Nothing racy, but nothing to write home about. "Uh, where did you get these pictures?" I asked him. Cecil only smirked, crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. "You're evil, you know that?"
"I'm very aware of that."
"I'm afraid we don't have much time for chatting," John spoke up. He glanced to his uncle. "Would you mind watching over Sassy while we have our fun inside?"
"Very well, but don't have too much fun without us," he playfully requested.
John's eyes gleamed with a mischievous light. "If we do you'll know by the people racing outside in a wild panic to escape our vengeance," he replied.
"Hadn't you better hurry on with your vengeance before the night's finished? The Dinner is about to start," Cecil pointed out.
John pulled out the bundle from the trunk and set it on the hood. He unwrapped it and I found myself staring at a flowered moo moo complete with a permed-hair wig and a pillow to fill out the dress. "You've got to be kidding me," I remarked. I grabbed the moo moo and held it out in front of me. "Is this some sort of sick joke put on by the theater people? Did they hate me that much?"
"Hate you? Take a look at mine," John challenged me. I turned and my jaw dropped down when I saw him holding up a dark purple suit with a fluffy blouse that had ruffled cuffs.
"Maybe they hate us both?" I guessed.
John chuckled. "Actually, they saw it as a chance at free advertisement, so they created disguises that would be the complete opposite of our normal clothes." He held up a case full of makeup supplies. "And they showed me how to apply some very drastic makeup, as you saw from my act as your chauffeur."
I smirked. "Act? I was hoping you were going to keep doing that. It was nice to be the passenger for once," I quipped.
"Teasing later, dressing now."
I pointed a finger at the moo moo. "Um, if that's the disguise, what am I supposed to show to everyone at the big reveal? My birthday suit."
John grinned. "As much as I would like to see it, I have another outfit for you."
"Uh-huh, you just want to keep me all to yourself," I teased him as he leaned into the back of the limo.
"Possibly, but this is what I had in mind for you beneath your costume." He pulled out and showed me a long, silver, close-fitting dress with a low cut and practically no back.
I raised my eyebrows. "You want me to try to fit into that?" I asked him.
"It was made for your size," he assured me.
I tested the cloth between two fingers and was amazed at how smooth the material felt. I was also amazed at how many of the silver hairs were from Sassy. "Was this in a box or did you let your cat walk all over it?"
"It was in a box, and she did walk all over it," he replied.
I laughed and took the dress from him. "I hope I don't blind anyone with this thing."
"The clock is ticking, children," Cecil scolded us.
We suited up, in John's case literally. His suit was easy to slip on, and he reapplied the dark makeup to his pale skin. He helped me apply a thick dose of makeup that gave me a heavy tan, and positioned the wig to perfectly cover my natural hair. By the time we were done I couldn't recognize myself in the car's rear-view mirror. I also didn't want to look in another mirror until I had this bulky, heavy, unflattering disguise off.
"We done?" I asked my changed lover. John had on his purple suit with a wig of long black hair and a pair of large sunglasses.
He stuck a fake gold cap over one tooth, spread his arms, and grinned at me. "What do you think?"
"I think thinking wasn't involved in the making of these costumes."
"Let's hope the low IQ of the attendees won't figure that out."
"Um, these are reporters. Aren't they supposed to be good sleuths?" I pointed out.
"Like Andy and his story about our separation?" he wondered.
"Like Andy and his story about my car," I countered. "They're not all dumb, and these disguises are a little, well-"
"-loud," Cecil finished for me.
"Yeah, what he said."
"We won't need them for very long, and at the time of revealing t
hey will get us noticed by the crowd," John replied. He offered me his arm and an encouraging smile. "Now come on, Angel. Let's show them how wrong they were to count us out as a couple."
I smirked and took his arm. "All right, boss."
CHAPTER 11
We left Cecil with Sassy and strolled down the block to the red carpet outside the convention center. Swarms of reporters and cameramen not invited to the event were along the carpet taking interviews and pictures. We stood out like two sore left thumbs, but John's step never faltered and I followed his lead. He toothily smiled at anyone who glanced our way and they gaped or turned away.
We stepped onto the red carpet behind some bigwig movie stars and I pressed up against John. He leaned down so I could hear his whispering voice. "Steady there, Angel. Just keep smiling and we'll be okay."
I nodded and plastered a wide, stupid grin on my face. A baby nearby burst into tears and a few people flinched away, but so did the cameramen. We strode the carpet like two walking carpet bags and came up to the door, where John handed the doorman our tickets. There was a tense moment when the man glanced down at our clothing with a raised eyebrow. "We're trying to blend in," John explained to his questioning glance.
"I'm sure," the man replied. He checked the roster, and I almost collapsed from relief when he checked off two names and jerked his thumb behind him to the open doors.
John led us inside the crowded convention hall. It was a single, large room with round tables placed in front of a stage at the end opposite the front doors. Doors stood on either side of the room and those led to small conference rooms. A few of them were open in case the main room needed a spill-over area. People milled around talking in groups and dining on the food offered by the waiters who made the rounds. I noticed some crab puffs on one of their trays, but when I reached for one John lightly smacked my hand. "Your makeup," he reminded me.
My lips pouted together, but I sighed and nodded. We didn't want to be unmasked before John was ready. He guided us through the crowds, but I stopped him when I heard a familiar voice. "It's not easy dealing with the targets, but you get used to it," a man replied to an unheard question.
I frowned and pulled John in the direction of the man to find Andy among a group of eager listeners. The group was made up of both admirers and rival news men. One of the admirers looked in awe at her hero. "And you're never found out?" she asked him.
Andy smirked and shrugged. "How? I never have my picture in my articles, and I make sure I get assigned to the ladies."
"Why the ladies?" his admirer teased.
"Because I treat them right, say to dinner, and they reward me with what I want to hear." He wagged his eyebrows and some of the women giggled. I wanted to sock him, but John kept me from doing the world a favor by firmly holding onto my arm.
"Is that how ya got yer last lady to talk to ya?" John drawled out. I whipped my head up at him in shock at his changed accent.
Andy glanced our direction and jerked back in revolution. One side of his mouth tilted up in a sneer. "It was," he admitted. He wouldn't miss a chance to brag. "She was pretty easy, especially after I rescued her from the mob in her apartment building and hired a guy to pretend he was trying to get into her apartment." I stiffened and my eye twitched. Andy noticed and his own eyes narrowed. "Something wrong with you?" he asked me.
"Nervous tick," John hastily replied. He guided me away before I was put on trial for justifiable homicide. We stopped a half room away and he leaned down close beside my ear. "You have to do a better job of acting," he scolded me.
"It's really hard when all I want to do is strangle him," I growled back. I glanced around the room and my eyes fell on two more familiar faces. They were Monroe and Sievers arm-in-arm and their other arms rubbing elbows with the paper people and celebrities. A sly smirk spread across my lips and I glanced up at John. "You want to see me act?" I challenged him.
John frowned and I jerked my head in their direction. He followed my pointing, and when his eyes fell on the pair his lips pursed together and his eyes filled with a deep hatred. Nothing was better at stoking the flames of disgust than seeing a pair of traitors living the high-life without remorse. "Perhaps we had better avoid them," he growled.
"Oh no, you had your fun so I can have mine," I insisted. I tugged him over to them and we caught the tail-end of a conversation.
"And after such horrible treatment you're looking for other work?" an older and wealthy woman asked the pair.
"That's right," Monroe replied. "I hope my next employer can appreciate my work and expertise more than the Benson company."
John stiffened at my side, and I coyly slipped my arm into his. "Did ya both work for the company?" I drawled, imitating John's previous accent.
Monroe glanced over at us and raised an eyebrow at our outlandish costumes. Sievers perused us with a careful stare, and for a moment I regretted our coming over to deceive them. I inwardly breathed a sigh of relief when Sievers turned her nose up at us and looked away. "I worked for the company, and Miss Sievers here is my personal secretary," he explained to us.
"Must have been hard runnin' that place all be yerself," I commented.
He smirked and shrugged. "It was rather easy, actually. The others on the board were a little meek, but they at least didn't get in my way."
In that short space of time I'd heard enough of his bragging to last a lifetime. "How very interestin'. Come on, honey, let's get goin' to that there food stuff." I pulled John away and breathed a sigh of relief when we were out of earshot.
"That there food stuff?" John repeated.
I shrugged. "I guess I overdid it."
John chuckled at my side. "I stand corrected. You are a decent actress."
I wiped my brow and sheepishly smiled. "Yeah, well, just don't let me do that again. I thought we were done for back there." All that stress made nature called, and I tugged on John's arms. "Mind letting go of me for a few minutes while I wash up?" I asked him.
He smirked. "I suppose I can part from you for that long."
We went over to the restrooms which stood against the far left wall of the room. It took me a while to handle all the clothing and washing my hands without smudging my makeup, so it was a few minutes before I emerged. I expected John to be standing guard at the door, but he was nowhere to be seen. However, Monroe stood close at hand, and when he saw me emerge he grinned at me. I didn't like that look.
"Ah, Miss Curious. I was just looking for you." I liked that even less.
"Oh, um, well, Ah was just fixin' ma hair," I replied.
Monroe stepped up to me and offered his arm. "Care to take a short walk with me around the room?"
This was more to my liking. I'd find John and get away from Monroe. "Sure thing, darling," I agreed, and took his arm.
He grinned and firmly placed his hand over my arm to keep me there. "Shouldn't it be honey?" he corrected me.
The blood in my veins ran cold at his low chilling voice, and I nervously smiled. "Just depends on who Ah'm talking to," I pointed out. I tried to free my arm, but he held tight and pulled me along the wall.
"I'm very pleased to be able to speak with someone who's so interested in my work. Do you know anything about the Benson company?" he asked me.
Now I was worried, and trapped. He wouldn't let me go and I didn't like the direction these questions were leading us. "Ah don't know much about companies, darling, and Ah think I need to go find my partner."
Monroe leaned down so his lips brushed against my ear. "Your fear is causing your accent to slip," he scolded me. That was the point where running would have been a good idea, but he turned us into one of the side rooms. Monroe shoved me inside and quickly shut the doors behind us. We were alone in there except for a few tables, and he blocked my only escape. He turned to me with a twisted grin on his face. "You're a convincing actress, but Constance wasn't fooled by your stupid costumes."
"But you were," I shot back. He stepped toward me and I stepped back unt
il my butt hit one of the tables.
Monroe quickly jumped me and pinned my hands behind my back with one of his arms. His face lay up against mine and I turned my head away to give some space between us. "You think you can keep making a fool of me?" he hissed.
"It's not that hard," I countered. He pulled on my arms and I cried out when pain shot through them.
"What will it take to shut up that stupid mouth of yours?" he wondered. I jerked when I felt his free hand pull up my moo moo. When he felt the smooth dress beneath the ugly cloth he smirked. "What have we here? A little surprise for everyone?" he guessed. I whipped around and spat in his face. He retracted his hand only to slap it across my face. I cried out and he covered my mouth to stifle the noise. He shoved his face close to my own and his hand. "Shut up, or I'll hurt you-" His nose wrinkled and he turned away to sneeze. Monroe turned back to me and only had enough time to open his mouth before his face scrunched up. This time I wasn't so lucky, and he didn't turn away in time to avoid hitting me with his mucus.
That was the last straw. I bit down on his hand, and he cried out and stumbled back. His sneezes just kept coming, and I was mesmerized as he was paralyzed by them. They came one after another in a parade of snot and curses. My fear was replaced with amusement, and I stepped back and watched the show with a triumphant smile on my face.
Monroe managed to glare at me through his uncontrollable attacks. "You bitch! Achoo! You set me up! Achoo!"
I furrowed my brow. "Set you up how? You're the one who led me in here?" I reminded him.
"Y-you know-achoo! You know I'm allergic to-achoo! Cats!"
Sassy. Sassy had saved the day for me. I smirked and stepped around him to the doors. "I'll go find Constance. This won't take long, I think I know where she is."
I left the room and found Sievers across the room with John as her captive audience. She was doing her best to distract and bore him with small chat. I came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. Constance turned around and her smile slipped off her face. I smirked and jerked my thumb across the room at the closed doors. "You might want to go help your boyfriend. He's having a sneezing fit over a few stray cat hairs." Constance's mouth fell open and her eyes whipped over to the doors through which suffered her boy toy. She hurried past, and I turned to John with a raised eyebrow and a playfully scolding expression. "Here I am fending off admirers and you just stand there flirting."