Manhattan Miracle

by Dawning, Dee

  New Dawning International Bookfair

  presents

  Manhattan Miracle

  A Zany Erotic Novel of New Beginnings

  By

  Dee Dawning

  Copyright © 2013 Dee Dawning

  Prologue

  "Are you Soriano?"

  "Sure am."

  "Hi, I'm Suzie Carpenter." Her eyes drifted upward. "Or rather I was her. I just earned my wings."

  "How appropriate. Lord Jesus was a carpenter." Soriano offered her hand. "Welcome to my cloud. What can I do for you?"

  Carpenter shook it. "The big Kahuna said you would show me the ropes."

  "God?"

  "God, no!" Carpenter's hand swiftly went to her lips. "I'm so sorry. Being around here is going to take getting used to."

  Soriano put an arm around her shoulder. "Ah, don't worry about it. Now that you're up here, no one keeps track of those things anymore. If they did, I'd be down below—way below—swimming with the demons in a vat of hot lava."

  Carpenter shivered.

  "Besides you must've been a heavenly role model in life to become an angel up here. What did you do?"

  "I disarmed bombs for the Marine Corps."

  "So you were a soldier?"

  "Yes ma'am."

  "Did Gabe send you?"

  She nodded. "Yes. I guess there's a bigger Kahuna than him."

  Soriano smiled. "The biggest. I'll tell you what, I was about to hop into my two seat streamer and fly down to Earth. Would you like to tag along?"

  "I'd love to, but why not just use our wings?"

  "This is a lot faster and less exhausting. Truthfully, technology has made our wings redundant. Some angels, the ones who aren't interested in status symbols, are actually having them removed."

  Carpenter's pretty blue orbs enlarged. "No!"

  "Ah-huh. I know. Some of the others said the same thing, but wings do get in the way and… Are you coming?"

  "I see what you mean about the wings getting the way. Where are we headed?"

  "New York City. That's the primary sector I operate from."

  "What is it you do?"

  "I try to make sure the people are heading in the right direction. If they start veering off in the wrong direction, I take corrective measures."

  "Like what?"

  "You'll see. Also, as a kind of hobby, I play matchmaker."

  "Really? That could be fun. What're we going to do now?"

  Soriano laughed. "It is. It's very rewarding to help two people find each other. Right now I want to check on a man named Brad Fairchild."

  "Who's he?"

  "One of my problem children who happens to be having an identity crisis. He's about to get a promotion and a nice raise so I want to see how he handles it. By the time we get to The Big Apple, he should be in his favorite haunt celebrating."

  Chapter One

  I glanced at my watch. God, time is crawling. I can't wait. In twenty minutes I'll be slurping brewskis and ogling the profusion of hot chicks that frequent The Libation Station.

  A light and low ring indicated a call on the intercom. "Who could that be?"

  I picked up the phone. "Hello."

  "Brad, it's Wally."

  A chill ran through me. "I can't work late tonight, Boss. Got plans."

  He laughed. "Down, boy. Who said anything about working? I just received a call from Mr. Grimes. He would like to see you in his office at two p.m. tomorrow."

  I swallowed. "The President? What does he want?"

  "I'm sure you'll find out at two p.m. tomorrow."

  "C'mon Wally. You must have an idea."

  "I do, but if I talk about it I could get in trouble. Mr. Grimes is expecting you, so don't be late."

  I sighed. "Yes sir."

  What now? Demotion, pink slip… I hope not. Things are rough out there.

  My friend Lew edged into my cubicle and sat on the corner of my desk. "Who died?"

  After pursing my lips, I wrinkled my nose. "No one. Mr. Grimes wants to see me tomorrow afternoon."

  "Yeah, I heard. Congratulations."

  I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes.

  Lew must have picked it up because he chuckled. "You haven't heard? The scuttlebutt's been all over the office. Schnedley is leaving for a cushy job in DC and you are taking over his accounts and…" Lew raised his eye brows, "his corner office."

  "I'm being promoted?"

  Lew nodded. "Yep. If you can't be good, be lucky?"

  "Thanks a lot."

  He laughed. "Jimbo and I are taking Schnedley to the Station for a drink. What do you say buddy? I'll pop for the first round."

  I ran my hand through my hair and down the back of my neck. Far from being fired, I was being promoted. I glanced at my watch. All of a sudden, I'd become a company man. "It's not five, yet."

  He chuckled. "Five stinking minutes, you never worried about that before."

  "You go ahead. I'll be down as soon as I shut my computer down."

  "You're not going to go high and mighty on me now, are you?"

  "Of course not. You and I are as tight as wallpaper and walls."

  "All right. See you in a few." Lew walked away shaking his head.

  ~ * * ~

  I stood at the vanity mirror applying my Max Factor eye shadow, while Amber watched and nagged over my shoulder. "Hurry up dear. I don't want to miss my Thursday night date."

  "Amber, do we have to go to The Libation Station again? It's nothing but a cheap meat market."

  "Sweetheart, you know meat markets are good in our line of business."

  "Not there. Everybody is on the make all right, but they're all cheap. They all want a freebie, and I haven't given it away since my first year of college."

  "Well, that's where my Thursday steady likes to meet. Look, baby, I've watched you. You waste a lot of time on deadbeats, being friendly and time is money. In the business we're in, there's no use beating around the bush. We need to separate the wheat from the chaff."

  I stared at her reflection. "What do you mean?"

  "The minute a guy approaches you, let them know where they stand. Tell them what you do and what you charge. If they're interested, they'll stick around. If not, they'll appreciate your candor, because frankly, while they're wasting your time, you're wasting theirs."

  "Yeah, I guess you're right."

  ~ * * ~

  When I got to the Station, Lew, Jimbo and Schnedley sat in a circular both. To my surprise, our boss, Wally, had joined them. As I walked up, Lew, who sat on one end of the booth rose, and stepped out, to make room for me to slide in. The booth looked pretty jammed. Since three-hundred pound Wally took up the space of two or three people, I pulled up an empty chair from an adjacent table.

  Lew slid my beer over. "Here ya go partner, Corona light."

  I made quick work of it and ordered another round. Apparently, we were only celebrating Schnedley's move, because no one mentioned my promotion. I wonder if Lew got it right.

  I felt a slight brush of my hair, accompanied by the pleasant a floral fragrance of a woman's perfume. I turned my head to follow the retreating sound of a woman's high heels and was rewarded with a visual treat. Long blonde hair and a classic coke-bottle shape rode upon perfectly formed legs. It was as if Barbie doll had come to life.

  When she turned and ducked into the ladies room, I elbowed Lew. "Did you see that?"

  He raised his eyebrows and nodded slow and precise. "The blonde?"

  I nodded.

  "Yeah! Nice!"

  "Did you see her face?"

  "Ah-huh. She's gorgeous. I watched when she and her equally hot friend came in. They must be models or something."

  "Where? Where's her friend?"

  I surveyed the lounge.<
br />
  "She's sitting at the bar. Tall, with auburn hair, wearing a short blue/green dress, and legs clear up to her waist."

  I looked over and sighed. "She is stunning. Can you imagine what it must be like to look like that? To be that desired. If I was a woman and looked like that, I'm afraid I would be a real slut."

  Lew laughed. "From what I can tell, you're a slut now."

  I laughed. "I'd like to be a slut, but I don't have the sex appeal. Men are so restricted, suits or sports coats and ties, while women like these, exude their sexuality through their clothing, hair and makeup, manicures, pedicures. It's not fair."

  "Sounds like you'd like to be a woman."

  "No, I'm happy as a man. I just think it might be a blast to be a sexy, trendy woman—to dress to your personality—to have guys come to you instead of having to go to women."

  Lew started to answer me, but I put a hand across his to shush him as the blonde came out of the ladies room and strolled toward us. Lew was right, she was gorgeous. I stared straight at her and she smiled. She passed and my head turned to follow her gait as she wove her way back to the bar and her friend.

  "Well, what do you think?" Jimbo asked, obviously privy to our conversation.

  "Extraordinary."

  "I know. If I wasn't married… But I am. So… What about you Brad? You're not married, and as far as I know you're not involved."

  Lew chirped in. "No, Brad's not involved. He's a player, aren't you?"

  Don't I wish. "I play around occasionally, but lately I've been in a drought."

  Lew frowned. "A man of the town has to make their own breaks. You're getting a big promotion tomorrow and have every reason to celebrate." He hitched his head toward the lovely ladies, "And I'd start right over there. Give it a try."

  ~ * * ~

  I smiled at Amber and took my seat. "So, when is your Thursday date…what's his name again?"

  "Fritz."

  "That's right. Reminds me of a potato chip or a drink." I snickered. "I'll have a wine ‘fritzer’." I rested my elbow on the bar and my chin on the pad of my palm. "When's he supposed to be here?"

  Amber shook her head. "Only you. Fritz will be here any minute. So how'd your trip to the restroom go? Did you stir up any interest?"

  "Don't know. Mostly, I got the usual inane pickup lines. But I have a good feeling about one guy. His eyes undressed me as I walked by."

  "I know. Doesn't it feel great when they do that? Which one?"

  "The brown haired guy, partially blocking the aisle with his chair over by the ladies’ room."

  "Oh, yeah. He scoped me out, too, while you were in the rest room. From what I could tell, he wasn't bad to look at." Amber's brow rose and she stuck her hand over mine. "Don't look now, dear, but he's on his way over here."

  Naturally, I started to turn, but I caught myself when she squeezed my hand and said through closed teeth, "No, no, don't move."

  "Good evening, ladies. I'm Brad Fairchild, and tonight I'm celebrating some good fortune that has come my way."

  I acknowledged his presence and turned. With a thin face, distinctive hawk-like nose, slightly graying, dark brown hair and deep-set brown eyes, Mr. Fairchild projected a mysterious countenance. It wasn't that he was good looking. More like sexy looking—certainly sexy enough, if he wanted to get sex without paying for it. "Good evening, Brad. I'm Ginger and this is my friend, Amber."

  He shook our hands lightly and took a deep breath.

  "May I buy a drink for you lovely ladies?"

  Amber flashed a toothy smile. "I'd love one, but I'm afraid I'll have to count on my date, who just walked in the door, to buy it." She slid off her stool. "Would you like my stool…Mr.?"

  "Fairchild, Brad Fairchild. And yes, if Ginger doesn't mind, I'd love to sit next to her."

  "That would be nice. I'll have a Brandy Alexander."

  "Well, it's settled then." Amber reached for her purse and shook Brad's hand. "It's been nice meeting you." Then she kissed my cheek. "I'll see you later." And joined her date, who scanned the bar for her.

  Brad slid onto the stool and raised his hand. "Bartender?"

  When the bartender came over, Brad said, "The lady will have a Brandy Alexander and I'll have a Corona."

  The bartender nodded, and slapped the bar top. "Coming right up."

  Brad stared at me. "I'm wondering… Are you a supermodel?"

  I should have been flattered, but I'd been asked that by so many men over the years, I'd become inured. "I have done modeling, but I'm not a full time model." A change of subject seemed in order. "You mentioned a celebration. What are you celebrating?"

  He ran a finger through the pretzel bowl, and nibbled the end of one. "A promotion. I have a meeting with the president of our company tomorrow afternoon and I'm not supposed to know this, but he's going to offer me a nice promotion and raise."

  I was about to speak when the bartender returned with our drinks. "Here you go. That'll be eleven-sixty."

  After receiving change for a fifty, Brad turned back to me. "You were about to ask me something."

  After taking a sip of my drink, I asked, "Yes, where is it you work?"

  "An investment bank called Bayside Securities. Have you heard of it?"

  I shook my head. "There are so many. I wanted to get into that when I got out of college, but the state of the economy wouldn't let me."

  Instead of asking me what I did, as I expected, Brad surprised me. "That's too bad." His face brightened as if he had an epiphany. "Hey, I've got an idea. I'm going to need a private secretary. It could give you a foot in the door."

  I reached for my drink. "That's sweet, but—"

  "No, no, it's no trouble. I think the pay is good for a secretary and I'd give you time off for any modeling jobs you might get. Here…" He pulled a card out of his vest pocket and offered it to me. "Let me give you a card. There have been secretaries who have worked up to broker, even sales manager. You never know."

  And if the hours wouldn't kill me, I could still entertain men at night. "I would love to be an investment broker. I have a portfolio myself." I slipped the card into my pocketbook. "Thanks, I'll keep it in mind."

  Tilting his head, he gazed straight at me. "Really, who's your broker?"

  I shrugged. "No one. I trade myself." I could see he was curious, so I continued. "No big name stocks, I buy mostly stocks the average person has never heard of."

  His brow elevated, wrinkling his forehead. "And?"

  I gave him my killer smile. "I'm happy to report, despite the absolutely crappy economy, my portfolio increased its value thirty nine percent last year."

  Brad's jaw dropped. "That's fantastic. How do you…aw, never mind. Are you hungry? I'd love to take you to dinner and get to know you. Afterward we could go dancing, to a movie or who knows—"

  This is what Amber was talking about. "Before you get too far, let me explain what I do." Even after all these years it was embarrassing to tell a man what I did—what I was. I took a long sip of my drink as he waited.

  "Yes?"

  Then I took a deep breath and blurted it out. "I entertain men for a living. You can have my companionship for free, but once we hit the sack, you're on the clock."

  Shock crept over his face. "Meaning, if I wanted to sleep with you, I'd have to pay for it."

  I nodded. "I'm afraid so."

  His scowl told me he wasn't too keen about my occupation. "But you're so gorgeous, why?"

  "Why what?"

  "I don't know. It just seems like someone as beautiful as you could manage to make money other ways." He frowned and shook his head. Rolling his eyes, he chuckled. "Listen to me. I just told my friend, over there, that if I was a woman as attractive as you, I would be a slut. Talk about hypocritical."

  I laughed. "Oversexed are we?"

  Brad laughed. He had a pleasant easy manner. "I'm afraid so."

  I cocked my head and smiled. "Me too, I'm afraid."

  Taking my hand, he laughed. "C'mon. Let's go to
dinner. It's getting too loud in here and I have a zillion questions. How does de Vinci's sound? They have great food and they're not too far."

  "All right." I slipped off the stool and grabbed my pocket book. His hand went to my waist as if to guide me to the entrance and remained there as we walked out. It felt good.

  Waiting for a cab, he asked, "Regarding the—what you do—I don't even know if I can afford you. How much are we looking at?"

  Chapter Two

  Ginger pursed her lips as if debating something. Her whisper in my ear gave me shivers, "One thousand per half hour or three thousand for all night."

  I whispered back, "That's more than I make. Do you make that every night?"

  "When I find a date, yes. And there are very few nights I don't find a date.

  A cab pulled up. I opened the door and helped her in. After nestling in against her and giving the driver instructions, I spoke softly. "What about an hour?"

  "Sorry, I don't do hours."

  "Is Amber a…"

  "Courtesan? Yes, Amber is one, too."

  "Is that what you call yourselves?"

  "Yes, we know we're prostitutes, but we're so vain, we like to think we're at the top of the echelon."

  "Humph! With your looks and the kind of money you make I'd say you are at the top."

  The cab pulled up to the curb. "That'll be ten-seventy-five,"

  We exited and I handed the driver a twenty. "Keep it."

  "Thanks buddy. You have a good time with your lady friend."

  Ginger smiled and spoke through the open window. "Don't worry, he will."

  I smiled and sidled up to Ginger. I felt like a million dollars with her on my arm as we entered de Vinci's. The way the maître'd catered to us, you'd think Ginger was at least a movie star. "Yes, Mr. Fairchild, I have a lovely private booth available. Right this way, please."

  The booth, around a corner from the main dining room, was quieter and more private than the rest. I didn't know who I was trying to impress, but I ordered a two hundred dollar bottle of wine. Perhaps in my mind I'd decided to go for a night to remember. I knew I wanted to wake up with Ginger, so being willing to part with three thou plus a five hundred dollar tip for her, the idea of spending another six or seven hundred didn't seem outlandish. I hope my raise will be a big one.