by Sonja Gunter
As he stared in the mirror, he saw a man who’d seen too much in his forty-two years.
Where had the time gone?
He turned his head a little to the left and then to the right, watching the gray hairs catch the light. He frowned. This only made the wrinkles more pronounced around his eyes and on his forehead. He was getting old. When had that happened?
It was all the fault of the damn picture and girl’s promise.
His mind drifted to that day so long ago, still crystal clear and etched in his memories. He’d been on his way to his family home on Marco Island for Spring Break, his senior year of college, when a young girl had caught his attention as he waited at the gate. She’d been annoying in an odd sort of way. She’d asked her mother question after question, and the mother had been so patient. His own mother had never had time for him, and to this day, she still didn’t.
Frustrated that he’d bothered to think of his mother at all, he pushed those painful memories away.
The girl and her mother had sat behind him in the waiting area. He’d tried not to listen to their conversation but had found himself smiling. When he boarded the plane, his seat was next to the young girl. He’d been tempted to ask for a different seat. He hadn’t wanted anyone, child, man, or woman seated next to him after his unpleasant meeting with his father. He had only wanted to get away. Fun in the sun, party time.
The girl had stared at him, a typical reaction he still received from females of all ages. Before the plane doors had even closed, the girl had begun to ask him a string of questions.
The mirror now showed a man smiling, which softened the lines, but had added different crinkles around his eyes.
To this day, her endless questions could make him smile, and he did just that. The questions had ranged from, Where are you going? Have you been to Disney World? Or Epcot? To how many times have you been on a plane? Then she’d shown him the damn picture. The Epcot sphere, Spaceship Earth, with a girl standing on the left-hand side. She’d informed him proudly that she’d hand-drawn it to give to her grandmother. It had been simply drawn and colored but yet very detailed.
He’d been captivated by what a gem she’d been on a couple of counts. She hadn’t a clue who he was and didn’t care. They’d laughed, talked, and he’d even helped her get to the next level on her Game Boy game. It had been as if they’d known each other forever and had made him wonder if that was what it was like to have had a sibling.
Toward the end of the flight, she’d asked if he was married. When he’d said ‘no’, she’d flat out told him that when she was old enough, she would marry him and they’d be able to play games all night.
He’d been too shocked to laugh because she’d been so serious. Not wanting to hurt her, he’d agreed to marry her when she was old enough but not before she’d graduated from college and could prove to him she’d beaten the Mario Brothers game.
Her words rang clear and haunted his memories. Keep this picture to remember me. I’ll meet you here in twenty years, and then we can get married.
She’d pointed to Spaceship Earth, and then tore the picture she’d drawn in half, giving him the half with the girl and added a boy to the half that she’d kept.
Now he watched his reflection as his smile faded and the light disappeared from his eyes. He splashed cold water on his face. That had been twenty years ago.
Mark stopped in mid-motion and stared at himself.
Twenty years ago! Had it been that long? Well, almost. The arranged date was in a couple of months.
Subconsciously he’d held on to the promise he’d made all these years. But why?
In the beginning, he’d used it as an excuse for the reason he couldn’t find a woman to marry. Now, he wasn’t even sure if that was the real reason. He doubted the woman would even show up. If he did go, he’d be going in blind since he’d never been able to track down her name or anything about her. Repeatedly over the years, Philip had stated there was nothing. It was as if she’d never had existed.
His phone alarm buzzed, bringing him back to the fact that he was old. He wasn’t married, and didn’t have any prospects. Moreover, his plan to find a wife was going absolutely nowhere. Instead of going out on a date, he was meeting Agent Nelson for dinner. Life kept on going like the Energizer bunny and didn’t stop for anyone, not even the wealthy.
After brushing his teeth, he combed his hair, then straightened his tie. Not too bad, he thought. Maybe a bit stuffy looking but he was only meeting Agent Nelson. He sighed. Dating was going to have to wait again.
Mark gathered up his suit coat, stopped and collected his papers, then stomped his way to the elevator.
For the first time the quietness of the office felt eerie. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? The doors opened and he strolled into an empty elevator. He inhaled. The reward, Ms. Schoen’s lingering perfume, a sweet, yet musky fragrance. It fit her in every sense of the way right down to her sexy feet. As he enjoyed the scent, images of what he’d like to do to them came to mind.
The doors opened too quickly for him and he saw his limo waiting outside. Philip. Always on time.
What would he do without him?
Philip had proven himself not only as his best friend but also as his bodyguard over the last several months. He’d shown that during the Massaro raid. Something Mark never wanted to test again.
“Good evening, Mr. Christmenn,” the two security guards said in unison.
“Good evening, Larry. Good evening, Frank. See you tomorrow night,” Mark said and strolled out the glass front doors.
Then he stopped short and openly gaped in astonishment as Philip waited next to the passenger’s open door.
“Sir, at your service.”
“Philip?” Mark asked and hesitated. Philip didn’t respond he simply grinned.
“I don’t have time for this nonsense.”
“Yes, sir,” Philip said.
Mark’s eyebrows raised as he slid into the backseat of the limo. Philip took the front passenger seat. As soon as the car moved away from the curb Philip broke the silence.
“I have one question, why after all these years are you interest in this woman?”
“Philip, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You have your choice of women. They’re constantly falling all over you. It makes my life hell as your bodyguard. Why her?”
Mark shifted in the seat. He knew Philip took his job seriously. Over the years, he’d protected him from angry ex-boyfriends of the many women he dated, blackmailers, scam artists and hired assassins.
“I don’t want to talk about it. You’re not my therapist.”
“That’s for sure, I’d love to know all your deep dark secrets. Remember the date is approaching fast.”
“God damn it, Philip. You don’t have to remind me. I’m over it. You’ve told me time after time there is no trace of her. So I’m moving on, like you’ve told me so often.”
Philip laughed.
Mark held the privacy window button down and locked it. The solitude was what he wanted. Peace and quiet. He hadn’t been prepared to answer any of Philip’s questions. By closing the window, he’d sent that message to Philip knowing it would hold him at bay for only a short time.
In the silence, he pondered why he’d had Philip check up on Ms. Schoen. No, Rane Schoen. No, Rane. He liked the sound of her first name. It rolled off his tongue with ease. It was an unusual name and had to be Scandinavian.
Most everyone who lived in Minnesota was a combination of Norwegian, Swedish, or German. He was Swedish and French-Canadian. His father had told him it had been his own Swedish heritage that had encouraged him to find the perfect coffee blend. This was what he, too, now sought. You needed the right climate, the right intuition, and the right timing, which was everything, to pick the cof
fee beans.
The beans could be compared to women. You picked them and then were treated to the ultimate outcome. However, for him, that’s as far as he’d gotten. None had ever seemed perfect enough for his approval. That was the women, not the beans. The thought made him chuckle.
But yet, here he was thinking about how to get Ms. Schoen into his bed. It would be simple enough to get her phone number since she worked for him. He put his finger on the button to lower the window to ask Philip get it for him but his finger sat poised on the button.
Rane’s confounded perfume was affecting him, the after effect stimulating in an odd sort of way. The awareness that the delicate scent could still cause chaos to his emotions was disturbing.
It was weird how the effect of her fragrance on his senses was similar to the smell of coffee. Of course they didn’t smell the same but he’d found the scent of freshly brewed coffee acted as an aphrodisiac. The research teams were very close to recreating the fragrance. He was hoping to market it as a special line of candles and other items.
The urge to kiss Ms. Schoen had been so strong it had caused him pain not to. She’d only topped the bottom of his chin and he’d found it quite tempting to lower his head. If he had, he would have been able to capture her lips. He thought she’d wanted him, too.
Stop. What was he thinking? She was an employee! He never dated any of his female employees. A personal rule he’d stuck to over the years.
However, as he thought about it, this was the first time he’d actually been tempted to kiss an employee. In addition, he reminded himself, not just any employee, but the very sexy Ms. Schoen. He knew it wouldn’t have been a simple friendly kiss, but a kiss that would have made her go senseless with desire so he would have been able to run his hands through her long, golden strands. Her hair had been calling out to him, Touch me.
Whoa. Slow down. He shook his head to clear it. Hair that said, Touch me!
“Get ahold of yourself, man,” he muttered.
He was a grown man, not a naïve schoolboy. For God’s sake, he’d seen hundreds of beautiful ladies before now. Damn, but her eyes haunted him. He’d seen them change colors as he’d stared into them. They had hypnotized him, not to mention he’d never seen anything like it in his life.
Air. Fresh air. He needed air. He pushed the button to roll down the side window in hopes the cool wind would help clear his confused thoughts.
What was wrong with him tonight? It wasn’t as if he’d never dated, or slept, with gorgeous women. He had a whole list of women beginning with Jessica, the lingerie model. Then Monica, the Playboy Bunny, and, oh, could she make her furry tail do things.
And he couldn’t forget Nicole, the actress. Her television show was becoming a huge success but he’d never watched it. It was something about being a Cougar and having young men falling all over her. He understood firsthand why. She was every man’s dream come true.
But Ms. Schoen was very beautiful and could put the other women to shame, no doubt about it.
“Rules be damned,” he muttered again aloud. “I’m going to ask her out.”
The image of Rane standing with her papers in disarray, shoeless, with slightly blushed cheeks was very clear. Her navy blue suit had fit her like a leather glove but it hadn’t said, Look at the body I have to show off. It had just been a very well-tailored suit. The skirt hadn’t been long nor had it been short. However, the skirt had been short enough to have him, or should he say, men in general wondering what else the lady had to offer. It had been a tease. One he, on the other hand, considered to be in good taste.
The intercom between the front seat and the backseat rang.
“Yes, Philip,” Mark said, as he unlocked the privacy window and his delightful thoughts of Rane vanished.
“Sir, I have confirmation Agent Nelson is at the front entrance waiting. We’ll be arriving in about fifteen minutes. The casino is packed,” Philip said.
“I want to be dropped off at the front. Let Agent Nelson know where to meet me.”
“But, Sir, I would recommend the private entrance.”
“The front is okay,” Mark said.
“I don’t think—”
“I’ll be fine. The front entrance it is.”
This time he left the window down, knowing Philip wouldn’t dare ask any questions. Now was not the time with his pending meeting with Agent Nelson. He was mentally ready for any information Agent Nelson had to update him about, good or bad.
Thankfully, they’d been able to keep MAC Industries and his name out of any of tabloid headlines. That, however, didn’t mean it wasn’t or couldn’t happen yet.
Never let the business come second to anything.
His father’s scolding words echoed through his mind. A vivid picture of his father’s scowling face staring at him sent a chill down Mark’s spine, knowing his father would have been upset for even allowing the threat of negative publicity to come this far.
Mark’s temper rose at the thought of the pathetic drug dealers attempting to get away with using his coffee bean business as a cover for smuggling illegal drugs into the United States! Not to mention his being shot. He placed his hand on his still sore chest, a reminder he was afraid would never leave him.
His blood boiled with hatred as he dwelled over the events from the last year. It had been a mid-September morning, starting out like any other day, until his BlackBerry flashed code one-one from the front gate. He had picked up the cordless house phone offhandedly, but before he’d been able to be connected, Philip ran in yelling, “Mark! Stay away from any windows.”
In a matter of seconds, Mark found himself pushed out of the way and Philip positioned next to the sliding glass doors with his Glock thirty-eight pointed outside at some unseen target.
“Philip, what in the hell is going on?” he’d roared out as he backed up into the inner hallway, clear of any windows.
Standing with his back pressed up against a wall, Mark had heard his goddamn beeper go off again.
“Philip! Now,” he’d shouted heatedly.
“The FBI is here. They have surrounded the property—”
The sound of a helicopter flying over the house cut off Philip’s answers.
“Philip! What is happening?” Mark demanded more forcefully, feeling as if his world was crumbling down around him.
“Your life has been threatened by the drug cartel responsible for shipping the cocaine.”
Philip backed up to face him with the gun still pointed out at something through the glass.
“Have you lost your mind? Who?”
“Remember the brick of cocaine we found a month ago in one of the coffee bean shipments?” Philip said.
“Yes.”
“When we turned it over to the police, they turned it over to the FBI and they arrested a man by the name of Rudy Venezio. This particular shipment of cocaine was intended for Thomas Massaro. Do you know who that is?” Philip didn’t wait for a reply. He kept scanning the backyard, watching for any type of movement, and then added, “The FBI has been trying to trap this man, Massaro, for years. Well, as it turns out, Rudy Venezio is Massaro’s grandson. The FBI received some information this morning that Massaro put a hit out on you.”
Mark relaxed up against the wall in defeat then calmly advanced over to the cordless phone and dialed fifty-seven and waited for Ron to answer.
“Mr. Christmenn, this is the front gate security. Please stay inside and away from any windows. Agent Nelson is on his way up to the house.”
“Thank you, Ron.”
Mark hung up as Philip came to stand next to him. They regarded each other with disgust, anger, and concern.
A rush of fresh air brought Mark back to the present as Philip opened the car door. He stepped out, letting the cool night air clear away the memories.
Without looking over at Philip, he headed into the Mystic Lake Casino to face whatever new information the FBI had for him.
Chapter 11
Thor voiced his annoyance with his dinner being late again as Rane entered the house.
“Are you hungry big boy?”
Meooowww, meeeowwe.
Thor rubbed up against Rane’s leg.
“Ya, ya I know, it’s tuna night.”
The buzzing of the electric can opener sent Thor jumping up onto the counter.
“Thor! Get down. Where are your manners?”
Instead of pushing him away, Rane bent down, snuggled up to him, and continued to fill his dish as he snatched bites before she set it down.
Checking the clock, she saw she only had about a half hour before Val arrived. She’d agreed to go with her to meet some guys she’d met through a dating service.
They were to have dinner at Mystic Lake Casino, considered a safe place to meet. You didn’t have to worry about getting drunk since the casino was located on the Indian Reservation with no drinking allowed, including wine. Connected to the casino was a huge hotel, which was convenient. If it turned out you liked the guy, you could test the water. It also featured several restaurants, a mega bingo hall, and lots of gambling.
The casino was one of her and Val’s favorite places to spend time looking for men. No, she corrected herself. It was Val’s favorite place to pick up men and her favorite place to play slots. Val was a pro when it came to picking out men with money and was forever trying to get her to join in on the fun.
“Hey, girlfriend, are you ready? You better be dressed in something sexy. And I mean sexy, and not one of your business suits. They definitely don’t say you’re available.”
Smiling, Rane yelled out, “Val, I’m in the bedroom.”
Patting her hair, Rane studied herself in the full-length mirror. She’d picked out a new pink spaghetti strap top, low-rise black jeans with a scarf belt, and a pair of high-heel sandals that showed off her newly pedicured toes.