That Man 3

by Nelle L’Amour

  In the middle of the movie, I heard Jennifer sniffling. I turned to look at her and tears were streaming down her cheeks. The song “Let It Go” was playing. Sung by the conflicted princess sister, it was about her adventurous journey of finding herself and letting go of the past.

  “What’s the matter, baby?” I whispered in Jen’s ear.

  She squeezed my hand and met my gaze. It was the first time her eyes had left the screen.

  “Blake, would you tell me you love me again and kiss me?”

  My heart melted like chocolate. I cradled her face in my hands and gave her the kind of kiss you only saw in movies. A lingering mixture of hard and soft. Sensuous and rough. Our cheeks touched and her hot tears heated my face. Our lips fit perfectly together. The lyrics of the song sounded in my head. There was no going back for my tiger. And there was no going back for me. The past was in the past.

  The movie ended and the lights came back on. The theater emptied. But neither Jennifer nor I moved. Our mouths were locked. I was still kissing my brave, complicated tiger.

  An usher’s voice asking us to leave finally forced me to pull away. I gazed at Jen’s beautiful tear-streaked face, and though I had a serious boner, she was all that mattered to me.

  Still cupping her face in my hands, I said the words she needed to hear. “I love you, Jennifer McCoy.”

  She smiled.

  *

  When we got back to Jennifer’s house, her parents were back from their afternoon visit with the Joneses. It was a little after four. Jen’s father was in his favorite chair, reading the Shakespeare anthology Jennifer had given him for Christmas. I was pleased to see the cashmere blanket I’d bought draped over his legs.

  The fireplace was crackling, and the air smelled sweet and delicious. Mrs. McCoy must be baking something. She was one hell of a cook.

  “Hi, Dad,” Jennifer said brightly as we headed into the living room. We’d left our outerwear and snowy boots in the entryway.

  Harold looked up from his book. He lifted his reading glasses onto his head, and a warm smile spread on his face. “You kids have a fun this afternoon?”

  Twinkly-eyed Jennifer told him she’d taken me on a tour of Boise and to see a movie.

  “Which one?”

  Before either of us could answer, Mrs. McCoy waltzed into the living room. She was wearing a floral apron and holding a tray with a platter of cookies and two mugs on it. The delicious aroma wafted in the air.

  “I baked chocolate chip cookies and made some hot chocolate,” she said with a big smile. She set the tray down on the large coffee table in front of the couch.

  “Oh, Blake. You must have one of my mother’s cookies. They’re the best in the world.” She led me to the couch where we both sat down. Jennifer lifted one of the big cookies to my lips. “Try it.”

  I bit into it and thought I’d gone to heaven. It was warm, chocolately, and just the right chewy consistency. The perfect chocolate chip cookie. I moaned and finished it off.

  “Mmm. Unbelievable… can I please have another?”

  Mrs. McCoy was beaming. Obviously, the way to her heart was through flattery. “Of course, dear. Have as many as you wish.”

  For the next fifteen minutes, Jen and I feasted on the scrumptious melt-in-your-mouth cookies and hot chocolate while the McCoys recounted their afternoon with the Joneses. I flicked a crumb off Jennifer’s lips—a small, endearing action that was not missed by her father. He winked at me.

  When we had consumed everything, Mrs. McCoy cleared the table. “Blake, dear, I hope you’ll be staying for dinner. I’m making something from the cookbook Jennifer bought me. Chicken fajitas.”

  Jen looked at me beseechingly. The truth: I didn’t want to leave her, but I hadn’t really thought much about the rest of my stay. I didn’t think it was a good idea to spend the night here again and overextend it. Plus, staying at a hotel in town might prove to be very sexy. I could fuck Jennifer’s brains out in a big king-sized bed without the worry of her parents invading our privacy. There was also the Jacuzzi tub. Mhmm.

  “Stay, Blake,” Jen begged. Lust danced in her green eyes.

  “Okay,” I conceded. I thanked Mrs. McCoy for her generosity, but told her I would be heading to The Grove Hotel after dinner.

  “Are you sure, Blake?” asked Mrs. McCoy. “We’d love to have you stay another night.”

  “Yeah. I have a reservation there.” Stick to the plan.

  Disappointment fell over Jen’s face. The truth: I was going to miss her tonight as much as she was going to miss me. Maybe we could figure out a way to have a discreet quickie before I left. Or I could invite her to the hotel for an après dinner drink and then some.

  As I stood up to head to my room and freshen up for dinner, my cell phone rang. I slid it out of my jeans pocket and looked at the screen. It was my Las Vegas affiliate manager, Vera Nichols. She was probably calling just to wish me Merry Christmas.

  “Excuse me. I’ve got take this.”

  The call was not what I was expecting. I could feel the blood drain from my body as Vera’s voice faded. Jesus fucking Christ!

  “I’ll get there as fast as I can,” I said and ended the call.

  “Blake, is everything okay?” asked Jennifer. Her eyes flickered with concern.

  “I’m sorry, everyone. I can’t stay. I’ve got to fly to Vegas to handle a crisis.”

  “What’s going on?” Jen’s rosebud lips curved into a frown.

  “Nothing you need to know about.” She looked hurt.

  There was no way I was going to tell her Don Springer had beaten up SIN-TV producer Eddie Falcon to within an inch of his life. Springer. That fucking bastard who’d almost raped her.

  Two hours later, I was on the six o’clock United flight heading to Vegas.

  Chapter 9

  Blake

  The plane touched down at McCarran airport at nine thirty, a few minutes before our scheduled arrival time. I immediately found a cab and headed to Sunrise Hospital where Eddie had been taken. After dropping my bags and skis off with reception, I met Vera in the waiting room outside the intensive care unit. She leapt from her chair and gave me a hug.

  “Oh, Blake. Thank you for coming.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “He was badly beaten up. A couple of fractured ribs, a puncture to one of his lungs, and a concussion. He was in surgery for three hours to repair his lung.”

  Fuck. “Where did the attack take place?”

  “Right outside his house. Springer followed him home.”

  There was only one more thing I desperately needed to know. “Did they catch him?”

  “Not yet. There’s a manhunt out for him.”

  “The fucker!” I growled. I wanted to find him myself and give him what he deserved.

  Casually dressed in jeans and a Christmassy snowman sweater, Vera looked weary. She should be home with her family celebrating Christmas. “Are you okay?” I asked.

  She ran her hand through her short blond hair and blew out a sharp breath. “Yeah. But it’s been a stressful day.” She sat back down. I lowered myself onto the armchair next to hers and joined her.

  “How’s your family?”

  “They’re good. I’m just sorry I couldn’t spend the rest of Christmas Day with them.”

  A dark thought crossed my mind. If Springer was on the loose, Vera and her family might be in danger. “Vera, I want you and your family to have around-the-clock police protection.”

  She held my gaze fierce in her toffee eyes. The thought had crossed her mind too. Springer was a sicko. There was no telling what he was capable of.

  “The police aren’t willing to do that. There’s been no direct threat to me or my family.” She chewed down on her lip. She was clearly worried.

  “Forget the police. I’ll set up private surveillance.”

  “But, Blake, that’ll cost so much money. I can’t afford that.”

  “Don’t worry about the money. The company will pa
y for it. I need you, Vera.” I couldn’t bear to lose her and would be devastated if anything happened to her or her family.

  Vera gave me another hug. “Thanks, Blake. I really appreciate it. You’re the best.”

  A warm feeling warded off the chill of knowing Springer out there. Somewhere. From the corner of my eye, I saw a doctor heading our way. He had a smattering of salt and pepper hair and wore rimless glasses.

  “I’m Dr. Walters, the lead physician looking after Eddie Falcon.”

  “How’s he doing?” I asked anxiously.

  The doctor lifted his glasses on top of his balding head. I’d watched enough television shows to know that wasn’t a good sign. My heart pounded with apprehension.

  “He’s a lucky man. He’s going to be all right. We’re going to keep him here a few days for observation.”

  I sighed with relief. So did Vera.

  “Can we see him?” she asked.

  The doctor nodded. “Yes. But he’s very tired and on a morphine drip. So keep the visit short. He’s in Room 520.”

  We thanked the doctor and together headed down the hall to Eddie’s room.

  Nothing prepared me for the sight of Eddie. Besides being hooked up to a bunch of beeping machines and tubes, his eyes were swollen shut, a wide bandage covered his head, and he was caked with dry blood from cuts and bruises everywhere. Bile rose to the back of my throat.

  Vera and I sat down in a pair of armchairs close to his bed. He cracked a small smile upon seeing us.

  “Hi, boss.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. “Not such a merry Christmas.”

  I didn’t know what to say. “You’re going to be okay, Eddie.”

  “That’s what the doc said. Did they catch the motherfucker?”

  My heart sunk to my stomach. I wanted so much to tell him yes. I bowed my head and shook it. “Not yet, but they’re going to. And when they do, I’m going to make sure that bastard burns in hell.”

  Rage coursed through my blood like an angry cobra. I was going to bring that motherfucker down whatever it took, even if I had to hunt him down myself.

  Vera chimed in. “The doctor said you’ll be going home in a few days.”

  Eddie was going to need police protection too.

  Vera continued. “I called your ex-wife. She’s going to fly in tomorrow from Miami and look after you.”

  A ray of happiness glinted in Eddie’s swollen eyes. “She’s a good girl. Wish it had worked out.”

  Eddie and his wife had recently divorced. She hated living in Vegas and even more so, couldn’t take Eddie’s porn career. Being in this business wasn’t easy. I had to give credit to Vera and her husband for keeping it together.

  Eddie’s eyelids began to lower. It was a signal for us to leave. He needed rest.

  I stood up. Vera followed suit.

  “Take care, man. And trust me, we’re going to nail that motherfucker.”

  *

  Vera asked me if I wanted to grab a bite in the hospital’s cafeteria. Having not eaten dinner and drained, I readily agreed.

  Though cheerfully decorated for the holidays, there was something very depressing about having dinner here on Christmas Day. There were not many diners—just some weary looking doctors and nurses and a handful of glum-eyed visitors. Having a loved one who was sick in the hospital over Christmas must be very depressing. A pang of sadness hit me in the gut as I bit into my tuna fish sandwich. Vera had ordered the same along with two coffees.

  She took a bite of the sandwich and put it down. “Blake, I meant to thank you for the generous bonus. I was blown away.”

  I smiled. On top of her six-figure salary, I’d given her a hefty $50,000 bonus. She was worth her weight in gold. “You deserved it. Our Vegas affiliate is our number one station thanks to you.”

  Her smile widened. “I love what I do. And I love working with you. Thanks to the bonus, we’re finally going to be able to remodel our kitchen.”

  “That’s great.” I took a sip of my coffee.

  “Oh, I also want to thank you for the boxful of Power Ranger toys you sent to Joshua. He went bananas. He’s going to write you a thank-you note.”

  Joshua was her six-year-old son. Unlike my obnoxious twin nephews, he was a great kid. Polite and precocious. Despite her hectic, high-powered job, Vera had done a great job bringing him up. If I ever had a son, I hoped he’d be a lot like Josh. It would, of course, take a special woman to instill him with love and the right values. Jennifer’s beautiful face flashed into my head. My heart hammered. Fuck. I missed her.

  As if she were a mind reader, Vera asked, “How’s it going with Jennifer?”

  I could feel my face light up. “She broke up with her fiancé.”

  Vera high-fived me. “Con­grat­ulat­ions.”

  “I followed your advice. Proved to her that Dickwick was not the right guy for her.” I wasn’t going to tell her how I did that. No way. That video I took of him and his hygienist was no one’s business. I sure hoped she wasn’t going to ask for details. Thank fucking God, she didn’t.

  “And so…”

  My face heated up. Electricity coursed through my blood vessels and I could feel my cock stir. “I told her I loved her.”

  “Oh my!” A cheek-to-cheek smile spread across her kind face.

  I don’t know what made me do it, but I launched into my story of surprising her at her house in Boise. And chatted away about the time we spent together.

  “Blake Burns, you surprise me. You are quite the romantic.”

  I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Yup, the former Mr. Hook-Up was now a contender for the title, Mr. Romance. I inwardly had to laugh at myself.

  We finished our sandwiches and drank the coffee to the last drop.

  “Blake, where are you staying tonight?”

  Fuck. I hadn’t made any arrangements. Vegas hotels were probably booked up because of the holidays. I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. I don’t have a hotel reservation.”

  She smiled warmly. “You don’t need one. Stay at our place. We have a spare bedroom, and I’m sure Joshua will be thrilled to see you.”

  At first I hesitated, but then took her up on her kind offer. Besides, I wanted to be there in case fucking Springer showed up. Mental note: Make sure Vera has twenty-four hour surveillance.

  Vera’s house was a modest sixties contemporary located not far from the hospital. It was great to see her good-natured husband Steve with whom I shared a cigar and, of course, little Josh, who roped me into playing Power Rangers with him. I asked if he liked SpongeBob.

  He rolled his eyes at me. “Uncle Blake, SpongeBob rules!”

  I immediately thought again of my beautiful tiger.

  After setting up security for Vera and her family as well as for Eddie, I called her. To my disappointment, her phone went straight to voice mail. I told her everything was okay in Vegas and that I would be heading back to LA in the morning. My last words: “I love you.”

  I went to bed in the small but comfortable guest room with my cell phone by my ear. I called Jen again and texted. Nada. I even tried calling her parents, but damn it, their phone number was unlisted. This Christmas Day, which had started out so great, had ended up with tragedy and uncertainty. Maybe I’d blown it with Jennifer leaving her so abruptly with little explanation. With a heavy heart, I finally succumbed to sleep.

  *

  I woke up in the morning to the smell of fresh coffee. Though the guest bed at Vera’s house was as comfortable as could be, I slept like shit. All night long, I tossed and turned thinking about Jennifer, and having fucking Springer on my mind didn’t help. Before getting out of bed, I stretched my arm to the nightstand where I’d moved my phone. I quickly checked my texts and messages. Not a word from my tiger despite how many times I’d tried to contact her. For sure, I’d fucked up again.

  Feeling blue as balls, I staggered out of bed, did my usual morning routines in the adjacent guest bathroom, and then threw on some sweats. I could use a
good hot cup of java. It wasn’t even seven o’clock. Having an active six-year-old in the house did not make for sleeping in. I remembered those days well. I was a holy terror. My parents were lucky they could afford nannies to run after me.

  Vera and her family were already at the breakfast table when I showed up. The kitchen was indeed a little run-down with old appliances and cabinets. I was glad Vera was going to be able to spruce it up with her bonus money.

  “Hi, Uncle Blake,” said Josh, playing with one of his Power Ranger action figures while eating his breakfast.

  “Hi, Josh,” I said with faux cheeriness.

  Vera’s husband Steve, dressed in pajamas, also welcomed me.

  Vera, wearing a long white silky robe that looked brand new, was at the stove stirring a pot of what must be oatmeal. Hearing my voice, she turned around. I noticed her robe bore the insignia of Gloria’s Secret—a small hot pink heart on the top pocket. Maybe it was a Christmas present from Steve.

  “Good morning, Blake. What can I get you?”

  “A cup of coffee would be great. And whatever you’re making.” Truthfully, I wasn’t hungry. I took a seat at the table, and Vera brought me both a mug of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal. I took a sip of the hot beverage and instantly felt the caffeine rush into my bloodstream. I took another sip and my spirits lifted a teensy bit.

  Just as Vera was about to join us at the table, the phone rang. She dashed over to a kitchen counter to pick it up. She listened intently and then broke into a smile.

  “Thank you for letting me know,” she said and hung up the phone.

  Still wearing a smile and holding a mug of coffee, she sat down at the table facing me. She was extremely pretty. She wore her blond hair short, and a combination of warmth and intelligence radiated from her toffee brown eyes. She was so different from the blond bimboes I dated. I mean, used to date.

  “Great news, Blake. They caught Don Springer.”

  My eyes lit up. “Where’d they find him?”

  She took a sip of her coffee. “The police picked him up at the airport.”