by Sue Knott
“Um, sure. Thanks.” There was no way I’d figure out how to get it on right.
“And please to put on this coat?”
She held out a conservative, but pricey-looking winter raincoat. I could see she had several matching coats in her bag. I suppose she had no way to know what size I’d be. She slipped my coat in her shopping bag.
“May I apply a foundation?”
I nodded and she proceeded to buff on some makeup that darkened my face a bit, followed by dark brown lipstick. The whole makeover took just a couple minutes.
“Did you want this?” She held up the outfit I brought in the dressing room. I shook my head and she placed the dress back on the hook.
“Please leave the store immediately. Another woman will meet you on the main concourse. I’ll see you on the plane.” She smiled and shook my hand formally. “Go. Go.” She shooed me out of the stall.
As soon as I left the store a woman in headscarf and raincoat identical to mine came up to me like we were old friends.
“Anne! What? Again you didn’t buy anything?” She took my arm and lead me into one of the mall’s anchor stores. It was then that I noticed about a dozen women milling around the store, all dressed exactly like me. Same scarf. Same coat.
We walked quickly to the store entrance. A limousine was waiting. We hurried in and the driver took off – headed in the opposite direction of the airport! My handler must have noticed my alarm.
“Do not worry, miss. Faris will first make sure we are not being followed, then take us to our destination.”
I assumed that destination would be the airport, but I didn’t ask. Who knew – maybe there was a worry that the limo might be bugged. It was all a bit too much for me. For a paranoid guy, Truth Seeker…or, I guess, Mr. Kezal…trusted an awful lot of people. I wondered if I could be dealing with the Saudi Secret Service. At least I had all three of my phones on me. One in my person, one in my pocket and one in my bra (yet another advantage of big boobs, I suppose). I could call for help if I needed it.
We did finally circle around and head toward the airport. But, when we got there, we drove straight past it. At that moment, my heart nearly leapt out of my chest. But, the panic was short lived. We pulled into a private aviation company just past the airport…and straight up to a Lear jet!
I was hustled out of the limo and onto the jet. Cala was already onboard.
“I hope our little adventure wasn’t too jarring for you?” Her smile was both warm and slightly amused.
“It was more…intriguing…than I imagined. But, I’m none the worse for wear.”
“May I get you a drink?” Apparently she was going to be the flight stewardess.
“Thank you, no. But, would you mind if I made a phone call?” I wanted to assure my safety before we left the ground.
“Certainly. Mr. Kezal anticipated your needs. He asked that you use this phone.”
I called Jim on the pay-as-you-go phone she handed me. I let him know that I was on some sort of private jet and that I’d call him again when I landed. I deleted the record of the call and handed the phone back to Cala. She removed the battery and dropped the phone in the trash.
“We have other phones if you need to make another call.”
I would have liked to chat with Cala. She seemed very sweet and I had a million questions. But, I didn’t know what Mr. Kezal had told her. Her knowing little smile led me to believe she thought I was on my way to a romantic rendezvous. I wondered if Mr. Kezal was married.
I was given the red carpet treatment during the flight. An elegant dinner had been catered in. Cala gave me an elaborate makeup kit so I could change back into myself. All I wore was lip-gloss and I had that in my purse. I tried to decline the kit, but Cala insisted I take it. She spent most of the flight in what I assumed was the cockpit, only popping in now and then to ask if I needed anything.
When we arrived in Las Vegas I called Jim and let him I know I’d be staying at the Venetian Hotel. Cala said Mr. Kezal was ready to see me and asked if I’d prefer to stop by my room first or meet with him directly. I didn’t have any luggage, so I figured I might as well go straight to the big guy. Cala deposited me at a table in a magnificent garden and informed me Mr. Kezal would be down presently. As far as I could tell, we’d have the whole garden to ourselves. I wasn’t exactly sure where I was, but I didn’t think it was the hotel.
As I sat sipping my iced tea and nibbling on the most elegant fruit plate I’d ever seen in my life, I worried over what I was getting myself into. This was definitely a level far beyond anything I could have imagined. This guy must have immense wealth. And with immense wealth comes immense power. If he were a bad guy, I could find myself in immeasurable danger.
I didn’t have much time to worry. Truth Seeker breezed across the patio. He was the proverbial tall, dark and handsome…except he wasn’t that tall, he wasn’t that dark, and handsome was an understatement. He wore khakis, a pink polo shirt and light jacket that looked exotic and expensive. His clothes hadn’t the faintest hint of wrinkle anywhere. (Could it be that he hadn’t sat down yet today?) His hair was thick and slightly wavy. Though he was young (maybe 28?), his hair had a few strands of grey worrying through it. His smile was quick and natural (and betrayed the slightest hint of a dimple – damn, I am such a sucker for dimples).
“Ms. Hawn-Imus! So good to see you!” In his enthusiasm he looked like he wanted to hug me. I extended my hand to maintain our distance. He grabbed my hand with both of his…and kissed it!
“It is good of you to come on such short notice. Are you up for a stroll?”
Actually, a stroll sounded perfect. Maybe I could walk off some of the adrenaline that had been piling up in my system all day. He took my arm and guided me down a well-lit path through the most amazing cactus collection I’d ever seen. (Granted, I’d only seen one or two other cactus collections in my entire life.)
“Ms. Hawn-Imus….”
“Please, call me Rachel.”
“If you will call me Amir?”
“Sounds fair. Would you like to fill me in on who your people think I am so I don’t make any stupid mistakes?”
“Ahhh. I am sure if you made a mistake, it would not be a stupid one. Especially since my staff members know nothing.” He had a little twinkle in his eyes. And what eyes those were. Big, deep pools that a girl could fall into. I could get lost wading through those mysterious eyes
“Nothing?”
“Absolutely nothing.”
“Do you do this kind of thing often?” I wondered if maybe he had women stashed all over the country that he flew in for trysts.
“No. I have never done anything of the kind. I’m sure my staff must realize you are a very special person.”
“They have been treating me well. Would they think we’re having an affair?”
“That is not beyond the realm of possibility. I assumed they might imagine we had some secret business dealing…a takeover, or something of the sort…but you have turned out to be so beautiful and charming, so exactly the kind of woman who might sweep me off my feet…that the staff could easily suspect a romantic liaison. Which is very good. They will make a great effort to keep knowledge of you from my family. The fewer people involved the better.”
“Are you married?” Along with everything else, I sure didn’t want to have to worry about a crazed wife attacking me.
“No. But in my country, a man and woman of such different backgrounds would be wise to keep their relationship discreet.”
We walked and talked for at least a half an hour. I filled Amir in on my advertising background, but my limited resources to, what he called, “further the quest.” He made it abundantly clear that his resources were virtually unlimited (for starters, his family owned vast oil fields). He was happy to find out that CussedEmOuterwear.com had just gotten started. He liked being in on the ground floor.
The sun had been down for hours. A chill was definitely settling in. My blazer was not up to the task
of keeping me warm. (Cala took my coat from me earlier, when the temperature had been quite pleasant.) Amir made a call and Faris picked us up in a sort of limo/golf cart. Amir put his arm around me as we sat in the back of the cart…I assumed to further the ruse of our “affair.” It was so cold, it didn’t occur to me to protest. I snuggled in. It felt good to snuggle in. Extremely good.
It didn’t take long to get to the Venetian. Who knows, maybe we had been on the grounds already. Everything was so grand around here, I was totally disoriented. Amir escorted me to my room, the Chairman Suite. Ohmigawd! It was more like a mansion than a hotel room. Fine art. Oriental rugs. An in-suite gym. Total opulence.
Best of all, there was a fireplace. Amir had the butler (yeah, the suite came with its own butler!) pull the couch and coffee table up close to the fire. We propped our feet up on what must have been a $10,000 coffee table.
The room was pure decadence. I protested that it was too much, but Amir assured me that as a business dealmaker or love interest, nothing less would be appropriate. I’d just have to make the sacrifice and live in the lap of luxury.
We stayed up late discussing our feelings about the Glyphs. (After all, an early night would blow our cover.) He was a lot more in touch with his intuitive side than Jim. He put great faith in his feelings, relying on them as strongly as I relied on mine.
Around 11:00 p.m. I realized that I had forgotten to call Jim. I excused myself and grabbed one of the phones laid out in the entryway. I thought I would just leave a message, but Jim picked up the phone. He was so worried he was still up waiting for my call. I felt terrible that I’d put him through all that worry. I assured him that I was safe and not to expect a call until Sunday morning. I didn’t mention that Amir and I were still chatting in my room. Jim seemed to be fairly comfortable with my safety level by the time we hung up.
“Your partner, Jim…are you two…attached?”
“Like dating? No. Jim is engaged to another woman.” At least I was assuming he was still engaged.
“Is there someone in your life?”
“A romantic interest? No.” I was dying to ask him the same question, but figured it was a moot point. We were hoping to enter into a business relationship. Plus, he failed Rachel’s First Law of Love. I’d never marry someone who lived in a country where women didn’t have equal rights.
It was getting late and Amir had a business meeting in the morning. He said we could get together late Saturday afternoon. He figured he would have a plan to propose to me by then.
Amir recommended that I sleep in and order a massage after breakfast. He said it would be good for his image, but I think he mostly just wanted to pamper me. It seemed he got a kick out of exposing a regular person to the grand life.
I walked him to the door. When he opened it, there was Faris with the limo/golf cart thingie. I imagined it was for Faris’s sake that Amir lifted my hand to his lips when he said goodbye…letting it slip ever so slowly from his grasp as he walked away. I made a mental note to get a manicure in the morning. My paws needed to be in better shape for all this hand kissing.
Funny, I had forgotten how cold I was, but after I was away from the fire for a bit, I realized I was still chilled to my core. I figured there must be a hot tub in the suite somewhere. (I cannot exaggerate this place…it was three times the size of my parents’ house.) I hunted around for a master bedroom figuring there would probably be some sort of robe in there. With no suitcase, I figured I’d have to call the butler and see if he could get my outfit laundered. (Fortunately, I’d stuffed an extra pair of panties and a bra in my purse, so I wouldn’t have to hand my unmetionables over to some strange guy.)
I was not prepared for what I found in the bedroom. Outfit after outfit had been laid out for me. Bathing suits. Casual wear. Business suits. Evening gowns. Undies. Bras. Purses. Accessories. It looked like a small store in there! Cala must have picked everything out. And she definitely must have thought we were having an affair. There were three negligees, but not a flannel pajama in sight.
Chapter 19
The next morning I picked out a casual outfit. I was pretty picky about my bras – I always purchased the same style. But, all of the bras Cala had picked out (at least, the ones that were my size) fit perfectly and offered great support. I guess, when you weren’t selecting from bras stocked in boxes at Wal-Mart, you didn’t have to be so picky.
Cala seemed to be fond of v-necks. She probably didn’t realize the v-necks would act a whole lot different on me than they might on her. Or maybe she thought she’d be doing her boss a favor if I flashed more cleavage. Fortunately there were some square-necked camisoles I could wear underneath everything.
When I called to order breakfast Jeeves (I didn’t call him that to his face) brought in a whole cart of goodies. I selected a couple items and made him take the cart back with him. I’m the kind of person where every package is a single serving if you leave it open in front of me. I shuddered to think how much of that cart I’d be able to down if I had to stare at it for any length of time.
A massage just seemed too decadent, but I did order a manicure. I got the manicurist to spill the names of a couple celebrities she’s worked on, but getting any details about those stars out of her was impossible. Apparently this was a level of service where privacy was paid for and received.
I was afraid of how much the manicure might cost. I had gotten all my money out of my purse before the girl came in so that I wouldn’t ruin my nails digging for it. When I asked how much I owed, the girl told me everything was to go on Mr. Kezal’s bill. I asked if that included the tip as well and she said it did. The smile she got when she said that made me think that Amir was a very good tipper.
Having time to kill was a luxury for me. I figured I could still multi-task by getting some exercise while I saw Vegas. I asked Jeeves which way I’d go to see the fountains at the Bellagio. He informed me that they wouldn’t be turned on until closer to the dinner hour, but if I could give him a moment perhaps he could arrange an early performance for me. My first reaction was to burst out laughing, but I stifled it. I figured if I acted like someone who was used to all this service, I’d be less likely to bring attention to myself.
“No, thank you. It’s probably better to view them in the evening. That will be all.” That will be all! I don’t know how I managed to say that with a straight face. But it did seem the kind of thing you’d say to your en suite butler.
I’d never been to Las Vegas before. It was fun to explore. The whole place was over-the-top. Being early in the day there wasn’t much of a crowd out on the main drag. It was blissfully cool, perfect for walking.
I’d only been out about 45 minutes when I noticed that a guy walking toward me was staring me up and down in an odd way. I was giving him my evil eye, but he probably didn’t notice because I was wearing very dark sunglasses (my blue eyes just can’t take much sun…and there had been such a stylish selection of shades laid out for me in my suite).
I saw his face sort of register a decision and then I watched out of the corner of my eye as he abruptly turned around when I passed. He was following me! Worse, the vibe I was getting off him was not good. I wasn’t even carrying a purse, so robbery was not a likely option. I was pretty sure he was a rapist or maybe even a murderer. I could feel the evil intent radiating from him. (Don’t ask me how I feel these things, I just do.)
I didn’t panic. (And that’s stupid of me. I should have been terrified and panicky.) I figured as long as I kept to public places, I’d be safe. I wanted to prove this guy was following me and have someone catch him. I didn’t think this was the first time he spontaneously decided to rape or murder. I didn’t think it would be the last. I had a chance to stop him. I had to try.
I took a lot of twists and turns and the guy was still behind me. He kept a good ten feet back. I had my eye out for a policeman, but didn’t see any. I figured all these casinos had to be staffed with security. If I went in, I figured I could get someone
to nab my stalker.
I turned into the nearest casino, the Mirage. Since my suite at the Venetian had its own private entrance, I hadn’t actually set foot in a casino before. I wasn’t prepared for the darkness, the barrage of bells and beeps, or the disconcerting layout. I looked around for someone who could help me. Everyone seemed occupied with other customers. Then I spotted some kind of slots worker on the floor. I walked up to her and asked her to please call security.
“What problem?” I was a bit taken aback. I figured employees would be trained to jump on a request for security.
“There’s a man following me.”
She couldn’t have been any more obvious as she looked up and scanned the room. She found the right guy, though. He was still lurking about ten feet back, staring at me.
“He no follow you. He just lost.” I couldn’t believe it. She wasn’t going to do anything. Maybe the fact that the guy was clean cut and well dressed threw her off. Still, I mean, she picked out the right guy. How could she know who was following me if he wasn’t following me?
She stared over at him again. Since she wasn’t going to do anything, I looked up, too. The guy completely freaked and walked out of there as quickly as he possibly could without making a scene.
Now, I was shaken. First, I felt terrible that this rapist or murderer or whatever was now free to rape or murder or whatever again. Next, having lost sight of him, I didn’t know if he might still be following me. I figured I’d better call the Venetian and have them send a car for me. It was ridiculously embarrassing since the hotel was just a short walk away.
I hadn’t brought my phone with me, but getting the hotel personnel to make a call proved infinitely easier than having them apprehend someone. I asked the concierge if they could call the Venetian and let them know the guest in the Chairman’s suite needed a car. I wasn’t sure how to tip for that. I gave the guy a five. He probably felt that was darn stingy for someone staying in the Chairman’s suite. But, I only had $25 in my pocket and I sure as heck wasn’t going to give him the twenty.