by J. S. Luxor
“Mr. Grant, are you in Manhattan on business?” Ryan inquires with a bit of irony in his voice.
“You can call me Tristan. Yes, I am. I arrived yesterday afternoon. Since Joanna was staying at the Marriott, I decided to find a suite for us. As it turns out, it’s lucky for her that I located a room far enough away from the action.” I chuckle to myself as I recall the action that Joanna and I experienced last night. We had our own little fireworks display and it amazed me.
“I’m really worried about Janelle,” Joanna announces to both of them. “I’ve not been able to contact her.”
“We’ve been calling the front desk and they’ve told us that both of you were missing. Now we can report that you, at least, are safe and sound,” Ryan states with relief while staring at Joanna and me.
We chat a bit more and I tell them about what I’ve learned concerning the situation from Bailey. The Tran’s are shocked that the source of our troubles was a bomb on the 18th floor. Most of the guests are betting that it’s the work of terrorists. I have other ideas. There are a few people out there who want to see Tristan Grant suffer. Perhaps more than just a few.
By 10am, the Fire Marshall allows those of us on the 30th floor and above to return to our rooms. We’re to pack and then take the stairs to the exit at the bottom of the building. We bid farewell to the Tran’s who still seem to be in shock about the whole affair. I let Bailey know about our plans. Hawk is still poking around hoping to find out more about Janelle.
“Sir, there’s been at least three deaths on the 18th floor,” he reports in a somber sounding voice.
“Any information as to who died?”
“One security guard who’d been called about a suspicious piece of luggage in the hallway and two guests. None of them fit the description of Janelle.”
I sigh with relief and let Joanna know. She looks worried, regardless.
“Why don’t we get our belongings out of here and sent to the jet? Then, we can keep a vigil, if we can, near the building.”
“Or the hospital,” Joanna adds with a hopeful note in her voice. We pack carefully and continue calling our sources about any updates. Bailey arrives to take our bags. We’re getting quite a workout today.
Once outside the Marriott, I suggest that we ought to get something to eat. Joanna looks famished and tired. There’s nothing new about any more casualties. The Fire and Bomb Squad members are investigating the scene and combing through all relevant evidence carefully.
“We might as well save our energy. If anything or anyone comes out of the Marriott, Hawk is bound to notice. He’s been checking with the authorities on a regular basis. Bailey’s also gleaning as much information from his sources as possible.”
“Yeah. I guess you’re right, Tristan. I’m feeling weak and waiting around here is like watching paint dry. Let’s get some brunch.”
We find a Starbucks nearby. Joanna buys a yogurt, banana and bagel. I settle for two bagels, an apple and a Grande Latte.
“What should we do about the jet?” Joanna worries.
“Nothing. It’s at our beck and call, for today. I have partial ownership of it for the week It’s a 5X Falcon that seats eight passengers and can fly nonstop from Los Angeles to London.”
“Oh yeah. I forget about how the wealthy live.”
“Remember, I said I’ve got partial ownership of it. That means I share the costs with three other companies.”
“That’s right, you’re just a bear and pretzel millionaire…If they find Janelle, she’ll probably miss her flight.”
“Depending on her condition,” I add and ignore Joanna’s smart crack, “we can take her back to San Diego with us.”
“I hope she somehow survived this attack. Thank you so much, Tristan, for all your help.”
“For you, Joanna, I’d do anything,” I ooze and look deeply into her beautiful blue eyes. I could get lost in those babies. Hell, I just wanna get lost in Joanna, period.
Joanna bites her lip and holds my hand with more than affection. I lean in to kiss her lovely little ski-jump nose. Her scent begins to work its magic on my libido. I rest my forehead against hers as we relax over our table at Starbucks.
My phone begins to signal soon after. “Grant.”
It’s Hawk. “They’ve found Janelle and they’re bringing her down on a stretcher.”
“How is she?”
“Alive. But, they’ll need to check her at the hospital. She ingested a lot of smoke.”
“We’ll be at the base of the Marriott in five minutes. Thanks for the update, Tom.”
I turn to Joanna and give her the good news. She jumps up from our table and pulls me by the hand. When I stand to leave, she pulls me to her lips for a kiss. She’s always so grateful. My cock twitches as we make contact again. Maybe we can do some heavy duty making out on the jet.
Joanna and I wait outside the building while the Fire Department Rescue Team carries Janelle in a stretcher toward an ambulance. She’s covered in soot but breathing through an oxygen mask. She recognizes us right away and gives us the peace sign and a smile. Her response is more than encouraging.
Joanna and I jump into the ambulance to be with her.
“How did you manage to survive?” Joanna asks Janelle with an incredulous tone to her voice.
Janelle pulls her oxygen mask down for a quick response. “I was going to the toilet. When the blast hit, I jumped into the bathtub.”
“I guess you can’t be too hygienic,” I joke while Janelle shakes her head.
“How are you feeling?” Joanna asks with tears of relief streaming down her face.
“Not bad for someone who was trapped on that god-awful floor for eight hours.”
“Let’s get you checked over,” the EMT guy announces as we speed toward the nearest trauma center. He quickly runs through a scan of Janelle’s vitals and looks impressed. “You’re doing much better than what we’d expect, given the toxic air on that floor.”
Chapter Three – Threats
Joanna’s POV
Once Janelle checks out of the hospital, we try to salvage as many of her clothes and personal items as possible. Her toiletries are ruined but the items found in her suitcase survived. Once they’re washed about six times, that is. The scent of smoke filled clothing just doesn't cut it with her. Or with me, for that matter.
On the flight back to San Diego, Hawk fusses over her like a mother hen. Though Tristan would like to spend the flight in bed with me, he very kindly offers his bedroom to Janelle. She's still hoarse from breathing soot filled air and needs to rest and recover. She accepts his offer with gratitude.
Janelle emerges from the bedroom after three hours and seems hungry. Hawk follows her to the kitchen and helps show her around. He's very concerned about her recovery and health. I find that endearing. This big hulking security dude treats Janelle like a porcelain doll. Tristan doesn't even notice, but I do.
Tristan and I spend the flight time working on our IPADs, eating, talking and flirting. I love having the space and privacy that a private jet offers. Tristan gets a lot of business done during the flight. I catch up with some of the client reports from work.
Bailey and Hawk try to discover more about the bomb at the Marriott. Some video footage exists of a man with a rather bulky suitcase exiting the elevator on the 18th floor. This footage was taken about fifteen minutes before the suitcase exploded. Bailey promises to get a copy of the footage to Tristan as soon as possible.
In the meantime, Janelle and Hawk seem to be getting along really well. Hmmm. Does Edwin have some competition for Janelle's affection? I've noticed that Tom and Jan ate together and then started joking about the bomber and his possible motives. I'm eavesdropping on their conversation.
"Maybe the bomber was a frustrated client and had a grudge against the arbitrary decisions that therapists and their insurance companies make," she suggests with a scoff.
"Perhaps a client who somehow knew that you gave a negative psychiatric evaluation t
o her or his case," Hawk adds with sexy arch to his brow. He's looking at Janelle with an enchanted smile on his face. I know that look. Maybe he’s learned it from Tristan.
"If that's true, then they should have blown up Ryan Tran's floor. I just send him recommendations, he has the final say," she's giving him the same sort of smile in return. This doesn’t look good for Edwin.
Hawk's making it personal. "Maybe it was a former employee at TTP. Perhaps someone who had a crush on you."
"I doubt that. I've only worked there a year and only two people know me well enough to do me any harm. That would be Joanna and Edwin. I don't think either of them would harm me in any way. Although Joanna may be a wild card," she jokes while looking my way. I giggle.
Hawk chuckles and asks Janelle more about her background and training. I notice that Janelle never mentions anything about her boyfriend. In fact, she's now quizzing Hawk about his background in criminal justice. Also, he's just returned from a tour of duty in Afghanistan. She's fascinated with his stories about the war.
Tristan looks over at me as I observe my colleague and his security man with a quizzical look on his face.
"What are you thinking, Joanna?"
I motion for silence and then sit beside him. Then I pull him to me with a hug and kiss his adorable mouth. His megawatt smile appears at once.
"What was that for?"
"For keeping me safe during our adventure today. And, for showing me such a good time last evening," I whisper as he looks at me with nothing but love and affection.
"Why are you whispering?" he asks with a conspiratorial tone in his voice.
"Because I have a secret observation that I want to share with you. Don't say anything."
His eyebrows arch up as he leans in to hear my story. "Is it something about my masterful sex moves?"
"'Afraid not," I tease "although you are quite the expert. Hopefully, I'll learn more about that tonight."
"I hope so. Well, nothing else matters then."
"OK, then I won't tell you," I tease and lick his neck.
"I'll be good. What is this secret observation then?"
"I think Hawk has the hots for Janelle."
"Really? If that's true, then I'll need to refocus his attention. He's been hired to protect you, first and foremost. I don't want him distracted by some blond."
Oops. I didn't mean to get Hawk in trouble. I just thought it was cute to see him making eyes and time with Janelle.
"Tristan. Don't be a party pooper. Would you rather that he had the hots for me?" I know my question will get a certain reaction. Perhaps it will save Hawk's job.
Tristan is so predictable. His brow creases with consternation. "Has Hawk shown any interest in you?"
"Of course not. I'm thinking that Hawk spent so much time trying to find and save Janelle that she's become important to him, at least for the moment. Their flirting is probably a side effect of the rescue effort."
"Nonetheless, I don't want him focused on anything but his primary target, when he's on my payroll," Tristan asserts in his best CEO voice.
"It's alright at the moment, though?"
"Since I'm here with you, yes, it's alright. I’ll ask Bailey to keep an eye out for any lapses on Hawk's part. What Hawk does when he's off the clock is his business. What he does when he's on the clock, is watch you. Is that understood?" Tristan says in a paternal way.
"Yes, sir," I respond with a salute. Tristan chuckles.
Whew, job crisis averted. Then Tristan's off on another topic when his IPhone pings. His posture shifts at once.
"Joanna, Bailey just sent me a photo of the man who put the suitcase in the hallway. Do you happen to remember seeing anyone who looked like this at the conference?" He shows me several pictures of the perpetrator.
"He seems to be wearing some sort of disguise. However, this person looks familiar. There's something about the way he walks and moves that I've seen before."
Tristan comes to life quickly with my observation. "Really? Look carefully and try to think about who was at the conference."
My stomach drops and I begin to feel a sense of panic as I match the man's moves to someone from my past. He's someone very well-known to me and he has nothing to do with the conference that I just attended. In fact, he has nothing to do with my career or with Tristan for that matter.
"Oh my god, Tristan. I could be wrong but I have a very strong instinct about who this person happens to be."
Tristan swallows hard and looks at me with an expectant expression. "Well, don't keep me in suspense."
"It's Carmen's ex and my former stepfather. The pervert, Richard."
"What the hell! You'd know that posture and those moves well though since he was your step-father," he says while ruminating on my thesis.
"Yeah, he lived with us for three years. The moves are all consistent with my memory of him, especially the way he moves his feet!"
At that, Tristan is up and out of his seat in a flash. He signals Bailey and Hawk over for a mini-conference with us. I tell them my idea about who the perp happens to be.
"Guys, I'm pretty sure the perpetrator is my former step-father. He's named Richard Dawson. He may have a grudge against me because Carmen filed charges against Richard as a sexual voyeur a few years ago." I tell them what happened and how traumatized I was over the incident.
"Those sorts of problems are listed in the DSM as a paraphilia since it was done without your consent, you were a minor, and it really upset you. I studied these cases for my Criminal Justice degree. It's considered an indicator of a psychological disorder," Hawk tells Tristan.
Bailey and Hawk immediately start to work on an investigation of Richard Dawson. They ask me all that I can recall about the situation as well as what happened after Carmen divorced him.
"You should probably talk with my mother about those details. I never wanted to hear his name again after the shower incident," I admit. Then, I share my mother's contact information with the men.
The last thing I want is to make Carmen worry about me. However, if Richard Dawson's made an attempt on my life, he may be planning something similar for Carmen. In fact, he may have plans for her as we speak. I call her immediately.
"Hi Mom. I'm so glad that you answered right away."
"Joanna, it's good to hear from you again. Aren't you at a conference?"
"I'm just returning from NYC. In fact, I'm on Tristan's private jet as we speak."
"Really? I thought using a cell phone while on a jet caused problems with the avionics."
"Yes, it can cause radio interference but Tristan tells me that on private jets, pilots often tolerate the use of cell phones. It's a fairly minor interference when there are only a few passengers. I wouldn't normally call from my cell during a flight but I need to talk with you about something very important."
"Oh. So, why are you calling me from Tristan's jet then?"
"I need to know whatever happened with Richard Dawson, after you charged him with being a sexual voyeur."
"Why?"
"I think he may have tried to kill me with a bomb at my hotel, last night."
After Carmen recovers from the shock of what I tell her about our close call at the Marriott, she fills me in on what she knows about Richard Dawson’s life since they split.
"I really hate to tell you this Joanna. I know you spent two years in therapy over that and other factors related to my marriages. But I know Richard blamed you for ruining our marriage. He thought you were being provocative, that you tried to lead him on. He was never charged with anything illegal, though."
"You never mentioned Richard's hostility toward me before mom."
"I know, because I didn’t believe it. You were always such a modest and quiet young girl. I felt that Richard was projecting his own wishes on you."
"Why is he after me now? I haven't seen him in years. At least, I thought he was out of my life for good."
"He's fallen on hard times in the last year or so."
&n
bsp; "Like what?"
"He lost his job then became homeless. He even asked Bob and me to lend him some money. We declined. Maybe he's blamed you for that as well."
"I'm shocked that Richard felt so strongly about me."
"He was disturbed, Joanna. Don't blame yourself."
"Well, he may have crossed over to the dark side, now, and I'm sitting at the crosshairs of his psychological problems."
"I am so sorry, Joanna, dear. Are you going to call the police about him?"