by Tiffany Toto
The Pandora Affair
Written by Tiffany Toto
I am dedicating my very first published book to my father.
Dad, without you I would not have become the person I am today. I would not be the extreme socializer, the creative outside the box thinker, the self-marketer, or the fabulous bossy bitch I have become.
I know it was you who negotiated the terms of my life with God and asked Him not to take me at such an early age. I know you are our guardian angel and are always watching over us.
I love you Dad
Rest in Peace
Westley Thomas Botts
1937 – 2009
Copyright 2013 by Tiffany Toto
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means-electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, scanning, or other-except for brief quotations in critical reviews or articles, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Publisher’s Note: This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, place, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. All characters are fictional, and any similarity to people living or dead is purely coincidental. The Pandora Affair was published by Tiffany Toto.
ISBN-13: 978-1492760511
ISBN-10: 149276051X
First and second edit: Chandrasheker Mani
Final edit: Linda Schottey
Cover art: JCom Design - Chandrasheker Mani
Interior Artwork: JCom Design - Chandrasheker Mani and D.J. Weekley.
See Design work by Chandrasheker Mani at JCom Design
http://www.jcomdesign.in/
https://www.facebook.com/jcomdesign
See D.J. Weekley’s Cable Broadcasts
http://www.youtube.com/user/TDJWS
https://www.facebook.com/TDJWS
For everyone that has made a difference in my life whether it is family, new friends or complete strangers who dedicate their lives to saving others.
To my mother, Patricia and my sisters Trisha and Terese….Thank you for holding me up when I could not do it myself… I would never have survived the last five years without you. My babies…Miranda and Jacob, you are the best things that ever happened to me and I am proud to be your momma!
To my incredible sisters-in-law, Babette and Ingrid, I love you both so much and thank you for all your love and support. My brothers, Tom and Tim, all my nieces and nephews, and my future son-in-law Juan, I love you too!
To my James, Thank you for being so supportive and patient through this process of getting The Pandora Affair published. Thank you for encouraging me to start my new book Pandora’s Soldiers. You are amazing and incredibly sexy. I look forward to our future together.
To my awesome friends, thank you for making me laugh and smile…For keeping me grounded and taking me down a notch or two when needed…For listening to my problems…For helping and supporting me through the process of getting The Pandora Affair published and most of all for your friendship.
Chanel, D.j, Bea, Lisa, Carmen, Rose, Jesse, Annette, John, Sarah, Wes, Chantee, Alice, Doc, Michelle, Rita, Linda, Oscar, Gea, Shelby, Jessi, Gail, Crystal, Lynne, Krenar, and my awesome boss Sandra. Dylan Cross, thank you so much for all your advice about publishing my book!
Special thank you to my beautiful niece Jennifer, thank you for being my true inspiration behind The Pandora Affair, I love you!
I asked a small number of people to review my book to see if it would be worth the investment to get it published. Here are just a few of the reviews:
“I read it one afternoon, and I loved it! It wasn't too long or too short. It had it all! It was funny, sexy, exciting, mysterious, and most of all, worth my time to read! I would love to read more books by this writer...'hint, hint', as I think she is very talented. I enjoyed all the characters, and the variety of personalities. Job well done!!!”
Babette Darlene Hoffman-Botts
“I really loved this book! The storyline and plot development definitely kept me interested until the end! I don't have a lot of time so I read this book during my lunch and found myself looking forward to it more each day. I thought the characters were well developed but I especially I loved Tyler! Who wouldn't want a best friend like that? The sex scenes were great, steamy but never too much. I really liked the ending. It was a twist that I actually didn't see coming!”
Lisa Medina Williams
“This was awesome!! I finished it in 4 hours…it kept me intrigued and I loved the characters…they were so alive. It had everything…romance, sex, drama, suspense, mystery and I laughed more than once!! My favorite was Tyler…I so need a Tyler in my life too. I would highly recommend this book for someone who loves to be entertained. The end…OMG!! I was not expecting that!! Thanks for letting me review it!!”
Chantee Faraci
The Pandora Affair
Prologue
Samantha hastily slammed the large redwood door to her midtown luxury apartment. The swift, warm spring night wind from outside quickly vanished against the powerful air conditioner. With the flick of her wrist the stainless steel deadbolt clicked the front door securely into place, the chain lock fumbled in her fingers as she tried as quickly as possible to get it fastened. She leaned lifelessly up against the heavy door; tears flooded her eyes as she listened to the pounding footsteps of the man who was chasing her.
“I told you I would find you!” BAM! BAM! BAM! The door pounded from the other side, he was breaking through. Oh My God, this is it; he’s found me Samantha thought. His large fist pounded on the door until it began to crack; then she could hear him trying to kick the door in. “LEAVE ME ALONE…PLEASE! I just want to be safe!” Samantha begged as she backed away from her door. The man with no name and no face busted through the front door. Samantha was terrified, and all she could do was crawl into the nearest corner and sob. She tried screaming. It was as though her voice box was paralyzed, and she continued to try to use her voice desperately as the man came closer. Just as he went to grab her she found it.
“HELP ME PLEASE, SOMEONE HELP ME!”
Chapter 1
Samantha startled herself awake, “It was just a bad dream, another nightmare, just another nightmare, and I am ok,” she thought to herself. Baby, her five pound tan Chihuahua was lying in her lap with her head toddling back and forth wondering what was happening. Samantha looked around for anything out of the ordinary by hesitating briefly in the dark before she turned her stainless steel nightstand light on, she slowly rose out of bed, clearly still startled by the vivid nightmare that came too often for her liking.
The lock of hair that tickled her face swayed wildly as she let out a sigh of relief, followed momentarily by several long deep breaths to calm her heart down. She managed a faint smile as she whispered, “It was only a bad dream.” Her long, sleek hand ran along the side of her vanity dresser knocking her keys to the floor, making an unusually loud-echoed clatter as they landed on the rust colored porcelain tile in the dead of the night. Baby let out her voiceless bark in retaliation to the noise and bolted down the hallway as quickly as her small legs would permit and continued to protest from the end of the hallway corridor.
“Baby, I’m sorry!” she called to her remorsefully. She picked up her keys and hung them on the silver hook right next to the door in her bedroom. She looked over her shoulder at her baby girl who was peeking out from behind the hallway wall, still protesting in her own special way.
Samantha cautiously stepped into her hallway, her body quivered as she felt a cold chill run through her, her white cotton nightgown swayed, tickling the back of her legs. She was startled by the clock striking five o’clock. She shook her head, “Get a grip Sama
ntha.” She adjusted the lights in the hallway to suit her wary mood; the dim lighting seemed to appease her enough to turn on some soft music as she passed her stereo on the way to the kitchen. As Samantha entered the over-sized room, her thoughts raced back to her dream; she shuddered again trying to shake that horrid feeling of the nightmare. One conclusion won the mediation battle and was left standing alone in her mind…she needed a drink.
Samantha made a complete examination through her almost bare, stainless steel icebox. Her eyes bounced from item to item until she found what she was thirsting for. As she reached for the orange juice, the temperature change on her arm sent a tiny jolt of energy running through her veins causing goose bumps to invade her silky skin. Samantha grabbed the carton of pulp free orange juice and took a hefty mouthful. She held it back to look at the cartoon duck on the carton. “You and I are a lot alike, duck…we both are always screaming and no one can understand a damn word.” She pushed the refrigerator door shut with her hip. She started to take another drink as she remembered what her mother had always told her. Ladies never drink from the carton. The phrase circled around in her head as she reached for a tall glass from her overhead cupboard.
Before making herself comfy she began making, without protest, a mid-night morning snack for Baby. Immediately capturing her attention with the freshly opened can of tuna, she asked, “Are you hungry, Baby girl?” Accepting her dancing and swirling around as an unquestionable yes, she watched her little dog gobble up her tuna as she picked up her drink.
The thought of complete relaxation seduced her mind as she sauntered casually into her significantly large and dim living room. The fading lights of her kitchen slowly vanished as the shadows of the room began to make its presence known. The windows were covered during the summer days to help keep her apartment cool, as the sun would set; the room became shadowed and lonely. She set down her drink on the dining room table and made sure her living room door was locked then opened her heavy burgundy drapes. She stood momentarily just listening and waiting for any possible noise to present itself.
Samantha enjoyed the way the early morning sky reflected through the window, she continued to watch as a portion of Los Angeles came into the early morning gleams of light. She casually made her way over to her burgundy chaise lounge, she loved running her hand along the back, it was so soft. It reminded her of a certain sweet red wine she favored. She picked up the frilly pillow that belonged to it off the floor. It was a vibrant burgundy and hunter green mix print. She was almost certain that a deviant little canine was responsible for it being on the floor. Samantha allowed herself to slide into the comfortable lounge chair; she slid off her overly comfortable slippers, permitting them to gently drop to the floor. Her feet had a perfect pedicure and were beautifully polished. A tingle ran through her body giving her that unconscious shiver as her cold glass brushed against her warm skin.
Samantha laid her head back on the chair, turning to the side. She focused her attention on the single picture within arm’s length. She reached over to pick up from the side table the only photograph she had of herself and her father together, setting her drink in its place. The old black and white picture was protected by the clay frame she’d made him for Father’s Day when she was seven. It had begun to shows its age, the small cracks sectioning off the lettering that spelled out ‘Happy Father’s Day’ made it barely legible now. She remembered he always kept it on his desk, being the first thing he looked at when he sat down and the last thing when he left. He slid it in her purse when she left home; he wanted her to have the last picture of them together before her mother died. He also tucked away in her suitcase, their wedding ring set. She always loved her mother’s rings. They were beautifully handcrafted and handed down for three generations; a gift from her great grandfather, who was a well-known and talented blacksmith. Samantha wanted to use them if she ever got the chance to be married. Until then they dangled from the gold chain around her neck.
All she had left was her father. He had raised her alone. She was heartbroken when he told her to disappear, knowing once she left she could never come back. She felt as though her memories betrayed her, it was so painful to think back. The ache in her heart begged her not to leave; her mind already had her subconscious bags packed. There was not another choice, as hard as she tried to find one. It was either leave or end up dead.
Samantha had lived in the small town of Amity, Oregon, her entire life. With a population of 3387 it was a close knit town. A place where you could leave your front door unlocked without thinking twice. Everyone looked out for everyone else, and the men still tipped their hats to the ladies. The local grocer still had a boy who delivered your groceries. The best part was that since the town was nestled against the mountains, the weather always had four seasons. No one thought that something horrific could ever happen in Amity.
Her father gave her money to run, to start over somewhere new. She rarely heard from him thereafter, maybe because he was afraid he would put her back in danger. She came to Los Angeles with a hefty amount of cash, a new name and a history to suppress. Samantha found a furnished apartment, it was not the nicest but it put a roof over her head. She didn’t want to get too comfortable in case she had to move again. She bought herself some new clothes and landing a job was her next step.
Chapter 2
Samantha acquired a job serving coffee and hotcakes in the early mornings, the same place where she met the man who would become the bane of her very existence. Samantha began her morning as usual, bringing coffee to one of her guests. She lost her balance on the fresh, over waxed wooden floor, delivering unintentionally, the fresh hot coffee right into his lap.
“HOLY MARY MOTHER OF…” He jumped up briskly, his gaze catching hers unconsciously, causing him to lose his train of thought and fall back into his seat. “Oh my gosh! I am so sorry!” Samantha took the cloth from her apron pocket, attempting to pat down the crotch area of his jeans. He intercepted by grabbing her wrist, holding on several seconds longer then he knew he should have. “I…I got it…thank you,” he told her snatching the cloth. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. She was unable to come up with words that had any meaning to her current uncomfortable situation. She looked around, it seemed as though all eyes were on her. The angriest set of eyes to see belonged to the manager, Mr. Hill. He yelled as he rushed over, not helping her situation in the least. He always seemed to exacerbate any situation.
“Samantha! That’s it! I’ve had it with you! You’re a walking disaster waiting to happen!” His hands wove around almost as if they had a mind of their own. Get your stuff and clock out! Get out of my store!” Mr. Hill turned his attention away from Samantha, before she could even offer an explanation. She hated to cry in front of others. Everyone around stopped what they were doing, taking notice of the manager’s over-zealous temper tantrum. She fought her overpowering emotions back as hard as she could. She bit her lip, holding her ground, promising herself she would not make a bigger scene than Mr. Hill already had. Her unintentional glossy glance met the stranger’s eyes once more before she turned and left.
“That really wasn’t necessary!” The man’s words came hastily to the manager as he shoved him aside, dropping the coffee soaked cloth in front of him. “Of course it was…she is a catastrophe.” “Well I guess it’s about time I stopped drinking overpriced coffee anyway, I’ve been meaning to drop the habit. No time like the present, I suppose. ”He grabbed his paper, dropped several dollars on the table and walked away from the coffee house. Samantha sat in her old clunker of a car as she watched the stranger get into his brand new SUV, holding him accountable for her current employment status.
Samantha’s job-hunting adventure became a new hobby from 8-5 Monday through Friday, eventually landing a job waiting tables at Pandora’s Bar and Grill,. She found the job one day eating breakfast. The hostess seated her and they seemed to hit it off, she normally was not this chitty chatty with anyone. Samantha told her she had given up all hop
e of finding a new job. When the hostess asked what she did for a living, and Samantha told her, a smile swept across her face. It just so happened that her manager was looking for a new waitress. By the end of the day she was again employed and her self-respect restored.
Samantha already knew the routine. The only new thing she had to learn was the menu, which she was given to look over at home. Within a few days she had everything down pat. She was doing her side work in the prep area when she took notice that someone was sitting in the corner booth of her section. Samantha tucked her pad and pen neatly into her freshly washed apron as she headed back to the floor with a smile. It quickly faded as she approached the table. The very same man she swore was her greatest nuisance was sitting in the corner booth of her section.
“Hello.” Samantha said as she flipped over the pages of her pad to write his order. “I’m Samantha and I will be your server today, would you like some coffee?” The stranger was deeply engaged in his newspaper and unintentionally circumvented her defiant stare. “No, thank you. Just some iced tea, no lemon.” He still did not lift his head from his paper and did not recognize the sound of her voice. “We’re out of iced tea, how about some coffee? Or are you afraid I would spill it on you?” She shifted her weight to her left side, her hand hanging onto her hip for dear life, hoping that her not so subtle hint would get some sort of reaction from him. Would it kill you to acknowledge me? she thought to herself. He looked up to face her, not being able to keep from producing a smug grin. “So you’re working here now? Trying your damndest to keep the beverages inside the cup, I hope. If not, no worries. I am pretty sure the owner carries some sort of clumsy waitress accident insurance or something like that.” His quick wit burned her up inside. She let out a quick irritated huff of breath. “This is a family restaurant. If you’re going to use inappropriate language, I will have the manager throw you out with the greatest of pleasure.” He looked around at the insufficient amount of people around him during the slow time of the afternoon and re-focused back to her, trying not to laugh. “My formal apologies.” He smiled. She could tell he was overly content with himself. Helping herself to a seat in his booth made him well aware of how cross she really was. “Have a seat,” he offered. “You know something Mr. Smarty Pants guy? I got fired because you were upset over a little spilled coffee….” in the most ruthlessly calm voice she could muster.