by Bobby Cole
He closed his eyes and replayed the day’s events. Early he had had a productive telephone conversation with Mr. Daniels. It left him feeling pretty good about the business sale for once. Although, he didn’t have much hope for Gates getting a consulting contract. It also appeared that he might get the property loan. Soon he’d have to tell Kelly and that was a conversation that he was dreading. When he left for lunch, he had instructed Mrs. Riley that he would return to the office but made it clear that there were to be no calls or text messages unless it was an emergency. He then cracked open Pandora’s box.
Cooper had arrived at the restaurant before Brooke. He sat at a small booth in the back and waited uneasily. Surprisingly, he was able to make a few notes on a paper napkin of things he needed to do in preparation for an afternoon meeting. His heart had jumped when he saw Brooke walk into the restaurant. She was wearing black dress pants and a fitted, white sleeveless top. She strode through the restaurant with confidence. She was hot and knew it. Every man in the place watched her and then acted as if they weren’t when she got close. Cooper managed to regain his composure in time to stand as she approached.
“Hey you,” she said with a smile as she slid into the booth. “How are you today?”
“I’m well. What about you?”
“Me too,” she responded. “You look handsome. I like your shirt. That color really looks good on you.”
“Thank you, and may I say, you look quite stunning.”
“Stunning?” she laughed. “That’s a bit much, don’t ya think?”
“Not at all. I make my living choosing words that describe a scene or a sense and believe me, ‘stunning’ is spot-on,” he said.
Brooke chuckled and blushed. She held up the menu to read and quietly said, “Spot-on.”
A young waitress approached. Brooke ordered water with lemon and asked for a few minutes to decide what she wanted to eat.
Watching Brooke study the menu, Cooper was excited and nervous yet overall at ease. His right leg bounced, betraying his exhilaration and causing tiny round waves to form in their water glasses.
Her leg gently brushed against his. He froze, instantly aware of everything around him and feeling totally exposed in public. Her touch was simple and absolutely electric. Brooke looked up from the menu with a smile. He wondered if she knew what she was doing. Her smile and the sparkle in her eyes said something. To Cooper it meant, “Let’s play!” He was flooded with two very clear emotions, fear and lust. Fear of being seen. And lust for her touch. He tried taking deep breaths to relax, but it was impossible. His body was responding. He told himself that no one could see under the table. He tried to act calm and casual, but on the inside he was a bundle of nerves.
“So what are ya havin’?” she asked, sensing his unease.
“The vegetable plate. It’s great here,” Cooper quickly recommended, excited to have some distracting dialogue. You’re an idiot for even thinkin’ about this, he told himself.
“Sounds delicious. Did you bring your own Mexican Coke?” Brooke asked and folded her menu.
“Not here. There are some things I won’t do in public,” he said with a sly grin.
“Good to know,” she replied with an equally devious smile.
When the waitress returned, they ordered and then both leaned back in the seats. Their legs were still touching. Cooper noticed how elegant her hands were. She had thin, tan fingers with long, perfect nails. Slim wrists. She was so feminine. He watched her fold her toned arms across her perfect chest.
“What are you looking at?” she asked, cocking her head to one side, knowing she had his attention. “Do I have something on me?”
“Naw, just you,” he dreamily replied.
Cooper knew that he needed to be careful. Montgomery wasn’t that big, and he was fairly well known around town. One never knew who was watching.
“Any improvement with the Gates situation?” she asked, squeezing a lemon slice into her water and then dropping the wedge into the glass.
“Not really. He’s comin’ unraveled and that’s puttin’ a little more pressure on me.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s just one more thing on my to-do list,” Cooper responded casually, trying not to let his frustrations show too much.
“Life, I guess,” she smiled and sipped her water.
“So how’s Grayson?” he asked as the waitress refilled his glass.
“Good. He loves school so much. Thank goodness,” she replied, pleased that Cooper asked about him.
“That’s half the battle. Ben likes school okay, but he just doesn’t pay attention… and his grades show it. When he discovers girls smell different, I’m really gonna be in trouble.”
“Like father like son?” she asked with a mischievous smile.
“Uh… probably. Hopefully, he’ll be smarter than I was.”
“Not smart about women?”
“Now, maybe. But I’ve made some idiotic choices.” The words came out before he could stop them.
Brooke moved her leg, just perceptibly, against his. The charge that coursed through him was grounding out what little remained of his rationality. These sensations were new. Years of loveless marriage had numbed him to excitement of this magnitude. Cooper was adrift in a dangerous current.
“Nervous about something?”
“No. Nope. Not at all,” he lied.
“Okay.” Brooke smiled knowingly and then changed the subject so as not to embarrass him: “Big plans for the weekend?”
“Not really. The agency’s takin’ some customers to the Auburn game. I’ll probably work on the property I was tellin’ you about and then meet the guys at the game and spend the night and—”
“I’d like to see it one day,” she quickly interjected, sensing an opportunity.
“Auburn?”
“No, silly; I’ve been there. The land you’re talkin’ about.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Cooper looked deeply into Brooke’s eyes. There was an intensity he hadn’t seen in a long time, if ever. As he leaned in to say something, the waitress interrupted to serve their food. He waited and then thanked her. When she left, he casually glanced around the room and then leaned forward again, “It’s really a special place. I call it my Promised Land.”
Brooke smiled. “Sounds like a cheesy name for a Jewish retirement home.”
“Really?” Cooper chuckled.
“The pitch needs fine-tunin’ before you propose it to your wife.” She paused a moment and then asked, “So does she go to the games?” Brooke was skillfully steering the conversation in the direction she wanted it to go.
“No. Never. She hates football,” Cooper answered, somewhat remorseful.
“That’s too bad.”
The silence between them was loud. Their eyes meeting excited Cooper to the point that clear thinking was impossible. He had a bad case of Brooke on the brain. He desperately wanted to believe that he glimpsed desire in her eyes too.
“I got an idea,” she said in a hushed, sexy voice.
“Yeah?”
“Well… I really like you, and I sense… well…” Brooke seemed to struggle for the right words, but in reality she was playing coy. As if frustrated, she tried to speak and stopped. Smiling, Brooke eagerly leaned closer to Cooper, “Why don’t we meet at the game Saturday night?” Her eyes and mannerism implied more than just catching a football game between business colleagues. “It could be fun.”
Cooper choked on a piece of corn bread as he tried to act like this sort of thing happened every day.
She stared into his eyes for a few intense moments. She said everything that needed to be said to make her point. The rest was up to him. She wasn’t looking for a one-night stand. She wanted him to want her, and playing to his interests and desires was a strategic move.
“Let me think about it,” he responded, with a twinkle in his eye and a slight quiver in a voice that betrayed his surprise.
C
ooper smiled nervously and took a long drink of water because he had no idea what else to say… and was a little afraid to say anything. Her foot touched his leg, jolting his system again. Glancing around the room, he noticed an older lady looking at him with what he interpreted as disgust. Who the hell is that woman? Does she know me? Could she hear us?
CHAPTER 17
1ST WEDNESDAY
Clarence and Jesse Ray rode in style and comfort from the Alabama Gulf Coast to Montgomery in Clarence’s tricked-out Cadillac Escalade ESV. The only available option not on Mad Dog’s ride was an engine block heater. Jesse Ray listened to rap on his iPod. Clarence dialed the satellite radio receiver into a conservative talk channel to listen to the political discussions of the day. The three-hour drive was interrupted by one gas break where Clarence bought cheese, hot pickled sausages, and a grape Nehi drink. Jesse Ray bought a Snickers and a Pepsi.
“We’ll eat supper with Jenny,” Clarence said as they walked out of the convenience store. “Apparently, there’s a really good restaurant close to the hotel.”
“I can’t believe you’re gonna eat that crap,” Jesse Ray said, unwrapping his candy bar, looking at Clarence’s sausages.
“You need to venture out. Broaden your culinary horizons, ya know? You might like it, and it will put some meat on yo skinny ass,” Clarence said as he slid the key into the ignition and chuckled.
The pair rolled up I-65 at seventy-four miles an hour and followed the GPS straight to the hotel. After checking in, Clarence watched Jesse Ray set up his computer and assorted gear, marveling at all of the electronic gadgets.
Clarence checked his watch. He had a meeting later that night with the Client to get additional details and the keys to the house where he suggested they hold the woman hostage. Before the meeting, he needed a briefing from Jenny to confirm the accuracy of the Client’s claims to date. He dialed her number.
“We’re here.”
“Good. No problems?” Jenny asked, looking though binoculars, talking on her Bluetooth.
“None. Where are you?” he asked, while flipping through the channels on the muted television.
“Watchin’ our friend. She’s pickin’ up her daughter from ridin’ lessons,” Jenny responded. She never took her eyes off the woman.
“How far away are you?” Clarence asked as he watched a pregnant meteorologist on the Weather Channel gesturing wildly. She looked like she was about to pop.
“Maybe forty-five minutes, depends on traffic,” Jenny answered, after thinking about it a moment.
“Are you about done?”
“I’d like to make sure she doesn’t make another stop—sticks to her routine. Let’s meet for supper in about an hour, and I’ll bring you up to speed. I don’t want to talk too much on the phone. The place I mentioned is just a few blocks from you. It’s called Chris’s. They’re famous for their small hotdogs with a sauce that’s delicious.”
“Hotdogs? You kiddin’ me?”
“I’m tellin’ ya, it’s your kinda place. Elvis ate there once.”
“Perfect. I’ve been tryin’ to get Jesse Ray to stretch his culinary wings, and this might be the place.” Clarence stopped channel surfing when he got to the Home Shopping Network. They were selling flashy jewelry. Clarence liked jewelry because converting it to cash was always easy, everywhere.
“Okay. One hour,” Jenny said, laying down the binos on the passenger seat while keeping her eyes on the woman.
“See you there.” Clarence broke the connection.
“Hey Jesse Ray, you see this, man?” Clarence was gesturing toward the television as he turned up the volume.
“Yeah, so what? Diamond earrings.” Jesse Ray said, when he looked up from his tangle of wires.
“Yes. No. Look how many they’re sellin’. Twenty-six-hundred units and countin’. That means they got twice that warehoused. I read about this outfit in the Wall Street Journal. They’re based in Florida. That’s what we need to hit one day… could be a huge haul.”
“You may be right, Dog. About a month, maybe six weeks before Christmas, they’d be fat with merchandise.”
“After this job, we’ll check it out.” Clarence leaned back on the bed. “All your high-tech know-how would be perfect for that job. But first, we’re gonna meet Jenny and eat!” Clarence slapped his hands together and rubbed vigorously.
“What time do we meet the Client?” Jesse Ray asked, his attention going back to his efforts to piggyback an Internet connection onto an unsecured wireless signal that he picked up from an adjacent building.
“Ten o’clock, at a car lot on the east side of town,” Clarence replied. “MapQuest says it’s about fifteen minutes from here.”
“I brought my wand so we can make sure he ain’t wired, and I got a jammin’ device that works for both radio and cell frequencies. We got a trackin’ sensor in that cell phone we gave him. I’ll also put a trackin’ device on his car. We’ll be secure at the meet, and we’ll know where it is pretty much at all times after that.”
“Good. Wake me up in forty-five minutes.”
CHAPTER 18
Gates spent almost all of the day hiding in his office. He surfed the Net, reading different football prognosticators’ websites trying to gain a modicum of insight into the weekend games. He had locked the door twice, each time doing a liberal line of cocaine off his beautiful antique desk. He tried to think of ways to screw Cooper out of his ownership percentage. He even called an accountant buddy, but that wasn’t very helpful because Gates couldn’t completely explain exactly what he wanted to do without incriminating himself and the conversation just petered out.
Gates was depressed and disheartened. Both of his ex-wives had called earlier in the day looking for money. Fortunately, his house was paid for and the company made his BMW lease payment. He had the deed to the lake house in a folder on his desk, and he felt nauseated every time he looked at it, thinking about what he was about to do. The Lake Martin house was beautiful, nestled among giant pines on a rocky lot with stunning views. It had been his escape from the daily grind. Gates bought it after the agency enjoyed a particularly successful year. He had been a master at draining every dollar he could out of the business. In fact, although the deed was in his name, the agency had paid for it. He was willing to entertain a few clients there occasionally, but only if they looked good in two-piece swimsuits.
He needed a big score. He was scheming about how to get his hands on a meaningful amount of cash. The Tower Agency was working for the state Republican Party in the upcoming election, which might present him an opportunity to become involved in the campaign finances as an avenue to embezzle funds. He also considered meeting rich women and sweet-talking them into loaning him money. But no immediate candidates came to mind. Finally, he toyed with the idea of robbing his parents’ home. He knew where they hid cash and jewelry. The more he thought about it, the more he liked that idea.
Outside his office, he could hear the sounds of everyone working. He stared at the numerous red lights on his phone blinking. He noticed that Cooper’s extension had been lit almost all day except for between 12:30 and 2:30 p.m., when he figured Cooper had taken a client to lunch. Cooper worked all the time and was clearly responsible for the business’s success. Gates would never admit that to Cooper… or anyone, but he knew it.
There was a time when they were best friends and watched each other’s backs. The two executives first met in college. They had joined the same fraternity and had helped each other struggle to obtain their degrees. Gates had access to money even back then and gambled consistently. Everyone thought it was funny. No one ever considered that he might have a problem. How could he? He was too young. He appeared to have everything: family connections, good clothes, new cars, and more often than not, the prettiest girlfriends. The reality, however, was much different. Gates’s life was a house of cards.
Gates only cared about what could be done for him. If he needed something, he was someone’s best friend. Once he go
t what he wanted, he might not even acknowledge them the next day. The exception was Cooper Dixon, the skinny kid who never had anything that Gates wanted. For inexplicable reasons, they clicked—maybe because they were polar opposites. Whatever the reason, they stuck together and stayed together, even after college when they both moved to different states. Three years later, Gates brought them together again with the promise of owning their own advertising agency. Cooper ended up working sixteen-hour days to develop campaigns that caught the attention of the right people; consequently, the Tower Agency overcame its start-up financial burdens and prospered over the years. Gates pretended to contribute.
Now, Gates had sunk to an all-time low, and he needed something from Cooper, besides hard work. He needed his piece of the agency. Gates leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, trying to envision another solution. He began to despise himself for what he was considering. Man, things had really changed, he thought.
CHAPTER 19
Searching for an empty parking space, Jenny noticed Clarence’s SUV as she slowly rolled past Montgomery’s oldest eatery. She grabbed her notebook before she locked the doors and headed inside. She was wearing stylish jeans, a tight T-shirt, and big hoop earrings, with her hair pulled into a ponytail. She pushed open the door, walked past the magazines and down the narrow walkway to the back of Chris’s Hotdogs where her partners in crime sat already eating—they hadn’t waited for her. Clarence had two empty plates stacked up and was working on his third. Jesse Ray was working on his second when Jenny joined them.
“Hey guys. So how’s the food?”
“Whoa girl… you were right. Sorry, we couldn’t wait on ya. This place is righteous!” Clarence exclaimed as he took a bite out of a small hotdog.
With a thumbs-up gesture, Jesse Ray indicated his approval as he devoured another hotdog.