Surprise, Surprise

by Anita Kidesu

  The storyline in the novel solidified his knowledge of Greek mythology and gods, proof he’d known where her name had come from. While many of his characters were made up, he’d woven in enough information of the legends to make them and the story plausible. And while she knew the story was a continuation of the first book, the reader didn’t have to read it to know what was going on in the second book. She loved it when authors did that in a series. Throw in some great sex scenes and Bart had a bestseller on his hands. Anyway, that was her opinion.

  Rolling out of bed and staggering to the bathroom, she wondered how he’d spent his night. Had he looked for her at one of the parties or a bar? Or had he gone back to his room alone or found someone to share his bed?

  Reenie brushed the fur from her teeth, took a quick shower, and dressed in a pair of shorts, tank top, and sandals. Even though the convention center was air conditioned, the combined body heat of hundreds of Comic-Con fans could raise the temperature to uncomfortable heights. Besides, if she went outside, Chicago’s August heat would be too much for jeans and a T-shirt. She braided her wet hair, swiped on some eye makeup, and called it good.

  After a quick breakfast—make that lunch—she’d head down and take her time looking at vendors, going to workshops, and listening to some of the actors talking about their lives as super heroes. Maybe if she was lucky, she’d get her picture taken with one or two. But she would absolutely, positively, not go past Bart’s table to get another look at him. For sure. For certain.

  Chapter Nine

  Matt leaned back and stretched out his aching muscles. It always surprised him how sitting and standing for hours on end was so physically draining. His feet hurt, his shoulder muscles were tighter than a super-heroine’s shorts, and his fingers hurt from signing books. It was only mid-afternoon, and he was ready to call it quits. To top it off, he had to go to the bathroom in the worst way.

  Jon was going to have to bite the bullet and start attending these events with him. With them being identical, they could easily switch places during the day with no one being the wiser. They could follow Eric’s lead and use a disguise for the one who wasn’t working their booth.

  Shit. He had another three and half hours to go today, a cosplay party tonight followed by two more nine-hour days. At least he’d been busy, which made the time go faster. With a current lull, he could take a quick break.

  Matt grabbed his cell phone and moneybag, covered his books with a white table cloth, slapped the “Be right back” sign on top, and asked his neighbor to keep an eye on things. Hopefully, no one would stop to chat before he had a chance to relieve his full bladder.

  As he ducked into the bathroom door, he caught a glimpse of the woman from yesterday. The one who’d knocked his libido into overdrive. He had dreamt about her last night and had thought of her first thing this morning. He didn’t know why she’d made such an impression, but she had.

  Her long, black braid had swung down her back as she’d moved away from him. What the hell was her name? He knew it began with an “R.” If he didn’t have to go to the bathroom so bad and get back to work, he’d pursue her.

  As he stood at the urinal, her name came to him. Matt shouted, “Reenie!”

  A man standing next to him at the urinals jumped and glared.

  “Sorry, man,” Matt said, holding back a grin when the man missed the urinal and hit the wall instead. “I just remembered the name of a woman I met yesterday.”

  “The way you yelled her name, I take it that’s a good thing?” The man wet a paper towel. He was about Matt’s height with slicked back, sandy-blonde hair. Like one of those preppy college boys from the fifties and sixties, he had a white sweater draped over his shoulders.

  “I hope so.”

  “What do you mean, ‘you hope so’? I can’t understand not remembering a woman’s name after a one-night stand.”

  Matt wiped his hands on a brown paper towel. “It’s not like that. I’d met her yesterday at my booth, signed her name in a book, and that was it.”

  “But you wish it was more?” he said, frowning, as he wiped down the wall.

  “Yeah, but I don’t know if I’ll see her again.”

  The man’s eyes were cold. He scowled at Matt as he tossed the dirty paper towel in the garbage can. As the guy washed his hands, water spattered on the backsplash. His face was flushed, nostrils flared, and his breathing ragged as a vein pulsed in his neck. Why the hell would someone Matt had never met seem so angry?

  “Well, I need to get back to work,” Matt said, getting more weird vibes from the man, like he posed a threat or something.

  “Sure. What do you do?”

  “I’m an author. Stop by my booth sometime.” Matt stuck out his hand. “Bartholomew Sandberg.”

  The man grabbed Matt’s, his grip a little stronger than Matt thought necessary.

  “I’ll do that. I’m Perry. Perry Whitehead.”

  Before they left the men’s room, Perry leaned out the door, looking around as if searching for someone. Once he seemed satisfied, he left the room. As Matt walked away, he sensed Perry staring at him. The whole encounter was strange. It was if the man knew and hated him for some reason. Matt racked his brain, trying to recall if he’d ever talked to him before today. He knew Perry hadn’t been to his booth yet.

  When he returned to the booth, he took the sign down and pulled off the cloth from his books. He wondered why the man creeped him out. As the day wore on, people came and went. He signed books, talked to interested readers, and forgot about Perry Whitehead.

  Every once in a while, as he looked past the throngs of people, he thought he caught a glimpse of Reenie. Her long, dark braid was hard to miss. Her slim figure in shorts and tank top was a real turn on. When he did see her, it seemed the next instant she was gone, as if she was playing cat and mouse. Maybe he was tired and imagining things.

  Matt tried to sneak a look at his watch while listening to an older man talking about the book he was writing and attempting to get published. The hell with it. Matt glanced at his watch. Thirty more minutes before he could escape. Please let someone else come to his booth and relieve him of this expert writer. Matt needed a shower, change of clothes, food, and a drink, and not necessarily in that order.

  “So, if I can get your email address, I’ll send you my manuscript,” the man said.

  Wait. What? This jerk was going to send him his manuscript? “I’m sorry, sir. Why would you do that?”

  The man frowned. “Uh, so you can help me with it. That’s what I’ve been saying. Weren’t you listening?”

  There were times when a person simply had to be rude and this was one of them. “Sir. I’m not looking to work with anyone. I’m not an editor or an agent. There is no reason for me to read your manuscript.”

  For a second, Matt felt sorry for the man when he looked ready to cry. “I’m also too busy with my own work right now.” Matt took a pen and jotted down something on a piece of paper. “I can give you my publisher’s name. You can look it up on line and follow their guidelines.”

  Matt shoved the paper in the man’s hand. “That’s the best I can do. Now, if you’d like to purchase one of my books, I’d be happy to autograph it for you. Otherwise, there are other people waiting to talk to me.”

  The man looked at the line behind him. “Damn punk. No respect for those older and wiser.”

  Matt kept what he wanted to say to himself. If the man was older and wiser—and Matt doubted the last one—he could figure out how to get his work to publishers himself.

  Before he could say anything, the man pulled a stack of papers held together with a clip from his backpack and tossed them on the table. “Here. Read this. Let me know what you think. And I’d better not see this in print under your name.” With that, he pushed through the people and disappeared into the crowd.

  Matt shook off the audacity of the man and dropped the papers on the floor. He’d shred them when he got home. For the next half hour, he talked with fa
ns and sold books. Finally, he was able to pack away pens, paper, swag, and shove them under the table for the next day. Swinging his backpack over his shoulder, he rounded the table and headed for his hotel.

  The masked, cosplay party for the evening didn’t start until nine, which give him time to grab something to eat, shower, and change into his gladiator costume. He’d laid out his costume this morning on the queen bed he wasn’t using for anything other than piling clothes, books, art supplies, and junk he’d picked up in the convention center.

  The costume was one of Jon’s from his collection of Greek costumes since this cosplay party was about Greek mythology. While Matt enjoyed mythology and using it in their stories, he wasn’t as crazy about the time period as his brother. Besides, wearing a man’s Greek skirt wasn’t at the top of his bucket list. Jon had said it was a foustanélla. Matt didn’t care what it was called—a skirt was a skirt. Maybe the sword, although plastic, and the metal shield would give him the appearance of Greek manliness.

  Half an hour later, he slid his room key, credit card, cell phone, and some money in the large pocket Jon had added to the inside of the skirt’s waistband. At least he didn’t have to worry about anyone picking his pocket. He slid the sword into the back of his waistband, picked up the shield, and headed out the door with the helmet under his arm.

  As he waited for an elevator, an angry voice floated toward him. He turned and peeked down a nearby hallway. A woman had her back against the wall, and a man leaned against her.

  “Leave me alone,” the woman said, her raised voice shaking. She pushed her hands against the man’s chest. The shoulder of her pale-blue, knee-length dress slid down her arm. A small, matching bag hung from her wrist, and a black mask lay at her feet.

  “You’ll never leave me, Reenie.” The man grabbed her hands and held them above her head.

  “Is everything all right?” Matt asked.

  They turned their heads in his direction. Reenie’s eyes were wide and shiny with tears. She shook her head.

  The man bared his teeth. His eyes, cold and flinty, flitted between Matt and the Reenie. “This is none of your fucking business. It’s between Reenie and me. Just a little lover’s spat.”

  Matt turned his gaze back on her. He’d recognize those green eyes anywhere. “Is that right? Are you and your boyfriend having a fight?”

  Reenie shook her head again. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Yes, I am,” Perry said, his jaws flexing. “Get lost, Bart-thol-o-mew.”

  “Should I call security?” he asked, directing his question to Reenie.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  At the same time, Perry yelled, “No.”

  Matt set the helmet on the floor and reached for his phone. Perry released Reenie’s hands and pushed her against the wall before facing Matt. “I told you this is none of your fucking business.”

  “Seems to me she doesn’t want your attention. I make it my business when a man tries to harm a woman. Doesn’t take much of a man to hurt someone smaller.”

  Perry took another step toward him. Shit, he looked a lot bigger tonight than he had this afternoon. Perry’s hands clenched in fists at his sides, and his eyes were mere slits.

  Matt’s stomach dropped. He gripped the leather strap in the shield tighter. Why the hell hadn’t he taken boxing lessons when Jon had? Lifting weights and working out weren’t the same as knowing when to swing and when to duck, but he refused to show fear. If he could reach down for his helmet, he’d throw it at the man, giving Reenie a chance to run.

  Perry was close enough now that Matt smelled alcohol on his breath. Maybe he was too drunk to do any permanent damage. But sometimes drunks were the most dangerous.

  Behind Perry, Reenie shook her head. She mouthed “run” at him.

  “You’ll fuck off, if you know what’s good for you,” Perry warned again.

  Matt shook his head at Reenie.

  Perry charged at him, his face a mottled red. “What do you mean, no?” he yelled, spit flying from his mouth.

  “I wasn’t—”

  Perry reared back his fist, aiming at Matt’s face. His last thought as the knuckles came closer was if the fist met his nose, it would be easier to tell him and his brother apart. Matt raised the shield to protect himself. Perry’s scream was enough to make people open their doors and peer at them.

  “Someone call security,” Matt yelled, pointing to Perry. “He was attacking this woman.”

  Perry cradled his hand in the crook of his arm. “You motherfucker. I’ll kill you.” With his head lowered, he charged at Matt.

  Stepping to the side, he let Perry fall to the floor. Matt was amazed how quickly the man jumped back to his feet. Perry planted his feet wide and crouched down. His neck cracked as he tipped his head from side to side. With a guttural roar, he charged Matt again. In the second it took for Perry to reach him, Matt picked up the helmet and slammed it against Perry’s head, its echo reverberating down the hall.

  Perry dropped to the floor. Matt toed him with his sandal. He’d knocked the jerk out. He dropped the helmet and shook out his hand. Tingles shot from his fingers to his shoulder.

  Reenie ran up to him and grabbed his arm. “Are you okay?” Tears ran down her cheeks.

  Before he could answer, footsteps pounded down the hall.

  “Stop right there,” a police officer said, his gun pointing at Matt.

  “Don’t shoot,” Reenie said, her voice quivering. “He saved me. The man on the floor attacked me, then attacked him.” She nodded at Matt.

  While the officer kept his gun trained on them, a hotel security guard came around the corner and crouched next to Perry. “What did you hit him with?”

  Matt nudged his helmet with his foot.

  “Ma’am, are you hurt?” the guard asked.

  Shaking her head, she bit her lip.

  “Do you know these men?”

  Reenie pointed to Perry. “This is Perry Whitehead, an ex-boyfriend. I have a restraining order against him, but it’s from Texas.”

  “Restraining order, huh?” The officer slid his gun back in his holster. “Do you have it with you?”

  “No. I didn’t think I’d need it here.” Reenie bit her bottom lip again. “I didn’t realize he’d follow me. I thought I was safe from him here.”

  The police officer pulled Perry’s arms behind him and slapped on handcuffs. Perry groaned and opened his eyes.

  “What the hell?” He jerked at the restraints and glared from one person to another. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing”—Perry stared at the officer’s shirt—“Jackson.”

  “This woman says she has a restraining order against you,” Jackson said. “Is that true?”

  Perry smirked at the man. “Sure. But we’re not in Texas, now are we? Take these damn cuffs off.”

  Jackson hooked his thumbs in his belt loops. “Here’s the thing, Perry. Illinois upholds other states’ restraining orders. So I guess you’re shit-out-of-luck, now aren’t you? Besides, we don’t take kindly to men accosting people in our state.”

  Matt wasn’t sure what would happen next, but if Reenie didn’t press charges, he sure as hell would. Hell, the man had attacked him.

  Matt looked at her. Her face had lost all its color, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She’d wrapped her arms around her waist. It was as if she’d sunken into herself.

  “I think the best thing to do right now is take the three of you down to the hotel security office and get this straightened out,” Jackson said, glancing between Matt and Reenie.

  The security guard yanked Perry to his feet. His swearing and threats to sue them echoed as he was escorted down the hall. A few more doors opened, and people stared at the angry man.

  “You sure he didn’t hurt you?” Jackson asked as they followed the guard and Perry to the elevator.

  The doors were already closing on the two men by the time Matt, Reenie, and Jackson reached the elevators. Matt put his helmet under his a
rm and wiped a shaky hand over his face. Thank heavens, they wouldn’t have to be in the same elevator car as Perry. They didn’t need to hear his tirade on the ride down. He shivered. He couldn’t imagine what Reenie must be feeling.

  Chapter Ten

  Reenie closed her eyes and sank against the elevator wall. Thank goodness, Bart had come down the hallway. Otherwise, who knew what Perry would have done? When she’d come out of her room, he’d been waiting. He must have been following her to know which room was hers. The sense of being watched that she’d experienced all day hadn’t been her imagination. Somehow, he’d figured out where she was going and where she was staying. The bastard.

  Now, they were being taken to security. Hopefully, they’d put Perry on the next plane out of here or at least put him in jail so she could enjoy the rest of the convention. A shudder went through her. She wasn’t sure that was possible now.

  Last night’s high hopes of spending time with Bart weren’t turning out quite the way she’d planned. She glanced down at her light-blue, Greek-style dress. Perry’s sweaty hands had left their mark, leaving damp spots on the silky fabric. The gold braiding that crossed above and beneath her breasts was crooked. While not a typical woman’s Greek dress, it was close enough. Even though it drove her mother crazy as not being authentic, most people wouldn’t know the difference.

  Her carefully made-up eyes were probably nothing but a smeary mess by now. Perry had yanked on her braid, so she imagined frizzy strands of hair were sticking out everywhere.

  But those were only the outward signs of the encounter. Inside, her stomach churned, its contents threatening to spill into her throat. The pounding in her ears did nothing to drown out Perry’s distasteful, threatening words.

  “Are you all right?” Bart asked, his voice low.

  The hand he placed on her forearm was warm, and despite her nerves feeling like a razor blade had crisscrossed them, tingles spread over her skin. Reenie opened her eyes and gazed into his. The concern in them was almost her undoing.