
Annie's 1st Break

An Annie McCauley

Romantic Comedy Mystery

By

Willee Amsden

Copyrighted (C)2015

No copying or reprinting without express written permission of the author. This is a work of fiction and any similarity between persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Books by Willee Amsden

Annie's 1st Break

Annie's 2nd Chance

Annie's 3rd Strike

Annie's 4th Ace

# Table of contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

# Chapter 1

Let me ask you this, are all men morons? Let me go one step farther, am I, Annie McCauley a moron? I must be. Why? Because I'm stuck on a toilet. Stuck you say? On a toilet? Yes, stuck, as in can't get my ass off the seat. Don't laugh, it could happen to you.

How did I come to be stuck on a toilet seat? There's a man and there's this other woman. I think I could love the man if I get a chance to get to know him and I know I hate the woman. She hates me. I don't know who he loves. Starting to get the picture? I may as well fill you in on the details. I'm not going anywhere for a while until someone comes in here and I'm too embarrassed to call out for help, so here I am, telling you the tale while I look at my long and, if I do say so myself, sexy legs with smoky black stockings down around my ankles along with the sexy red thong I thought would possibly find an admirer today.

Unfortunately, I think the wrong man or men will now be admiring my choice in lingerie. What are the chances that the EMTs they send will all be women?

My name is Rayanne McCauley or at least it was. When I came to the big city I changed it to Anne McCauley. Maybe it isn't the sexiest name, but it sure beats Rayanne which had trailer park written all over it and make no mistake, that ain't false advertising because I grew up in a trailer park. I'm not ashamed of that fact, but I also don't want to advertise it, either. In the fashion world that wouldn't be a plus and at twenty one years of age I am trying to make it in the fashion world. My dream is to be on the cover of the biggest trade journal in the fashion world, Women's Wear Daily or WWD, as it's known in the business. That's big time.

I know a West Texas girl from a small town and with a mobile home in her past isn't likely to make it in the high class world of fashion, but I'm going to give it everything I have because then they'll have to take me seriously and I have to be taken seriously, otherwise I've got no shot at the big time and that's where I'm headed. The most important thing in the world to me is to show all the folks in Mesa View that Little Annie McCauley, the trailer park kid, can make it in the big city. B-IG T-I-M-E You can underline that and mark it in red ink. Now, let me tell you what I do have going for myself.

I have a slight southwestern drawl that many people find charming. I'm 5'9' tall and weigh in at 108 pounds. I've got a killer set of tits and a sweet little ass with a waist that many a man could put his two hands right around, if I was that kind of girl, that is, but I'm not, well usually not, except in the case of Tomi Di Ponti. I'd let him do a lot more than that. Yes, he's the man and yes I do wonder if he's a moron or just plain blind. Maybe he's simple-minded, but I don't think so. He wouldn't have made it to the top of the fashion world if he was, even with his family's money.

However, when a woman Like Brittany bats those long eyelashes at him and shows him her cleavage he'll probably lose it like most men do. So why can't he see what a bitch Brittany Carstairs is? Yes, that's the woman I mentioned earlier. Men instantly fall under her spell and seem to think she's wonderful, but trust me, she's not. In fact, I truly believe she's evil. Maybe you've got your doubts.

Let me give you an example. A few minutes ago I was supposed to have a meeting with Tomi to discuss being the spokeswoman for his new line of fashions and scents. While I'm in here can you guess who is out there right now talking to him, wrapping him around her little finger? Why none other than Miz Brittany Carstairs, of course. Why not? She's got everything I've got and maybe a little more. Her flame red hair is long and full like her breasts are full and she's an inch or two taller than me, but with the same incredibly small waist. What are the chances of two such beautiful women growing up in the same trailer park in little, old, Mesa View?

Once again, Brittany has beaten me. Have you ever had anyone in your life that always seemed to come out on top and was such a bitch that you hated her? Why does she get so much pleasure making my life a living hell? Why won't she leave me alone? She thinks I'm the reason for all her troubles, for the fact that she wound up with an abusive step father and alcoholic mother... really, me? I was just twelve years old at the time. But maybe I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's get back to what happened today.

I was here, in the ladies room, just minutes before my meeting with Tomi. I was so nervous I had to pee really bad and wanted to make sure my makeup was perfect. When who came waltzing in the door, dressed to kill, but my arch nemesis, Brittany. She had that sickly smile or sneer or whatever it is on her luscious red lips while I was looking at her in the mirror as I worked on my eye lashes.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing... I just heard through the grapevine that you had a big opportunity today and wanted to be here to support you. We Mesa View girls have to stick together. Why not take me with you so I can meet Tomi, too? You know I've been having trouble getting work and this would be a big boost for me?"

Believe it or not for a second there I was tempted, but then I remembered all the trouble this devil had caused in my life.

"Sorry, Brit, three's a crowd. If you need more support try an underwire bra."

She just smiled and shrugged her shoulders and went in the stall. There are two, but one has a sign on the door informing the world that the second stall in the ladies room on the eighteenth floor of the Di Ponti Building is out of order. While this may seem insignificant to the rest of the world it's about to take on catastrophic proportions in my life. I was going to have to use the toilet Brittany got to first.

By the time Brittany came strolling out I was standing there with my knees locked together dancing from foot to foot trying to hold it in. Maybe the extra large iced tea on the way here wasn't such a hot idea? But she was finally out and I raced in and sat down.

"For god sakes, Brit, what the hell did you do? The seat is all wet?" I said.

"Just a little something for old time's sake," she said and laughed.

Then I realized I'd left my purse on the counter. I thought of asking her to hand it to me, but then thought better of that idea and decided I could wait to get it until I got out.

"Well I'm sorry you wouldn't help me, Annie-Bannanie," she said using the damned name the kids called me in school. "I'd like to stay and chat, but I've got to run. Since you won't be able to make it I figure I'll drop in and see Tomi."

"In your dreams," I said. "I'll be there." I went to lift my leg to wipe and that's when I realized my leg was stuck to the seat.

"Nice seeing you again, Annie. It's been SUPER," she said, laughed evilly, and dashed out.

That's when it hit me. Stick together? Super... as in Super Glue?

So here I am with my ass Super Glued to the seat of a toilet. My phone is in my bag on the counter. It's ringing the familiar ring tone I set up for Tomi's company. The biggest break of my life has just been taken away from me and how the hell do I begin to explain to the top man in the world of fashion that I missed our meeting because I was stuck on a toilet seat? They'll probably want to know where I am. I imagine Tomi doesn't like to be kept waiting. I hope like hell Brit doesn't tell him where I am. Tears begin to fall on my chest and I realize my mascara is probably running. I'm going to be such a mess when they find me.

As I sit angry, frustrated, feeling like an idiot for not being more careful around Brit, I hear the door open. Someone just walked in. Could it be her? Did she come in to help me? Has she changed her mind?

"Hello," I call out.

"Hello," a strange voice answers.

"I hope you don't need to use the toilet," I say, apologetically.

"Nope, just need the mirror," she answers cheerfully. "Are you okay?" she asks.

"Yes, I'm fine," I lie. "I wonder if you could do me a favor and slide my purse under the side for me?" I reach my hand under the side of the partition so she can see it.

"Sure, no problem," she answers and seconds later my purse is in my hand. By now the phone has stopped ringing.

"You're sure you're okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, I'm good," I lie again. Please, just go away, I think to myself.

As soon as I hear the door close behind her I speed dial my friend, Luis.

"Hola, Chica," he laughs with a slight lisp. "Que Pasa?"

"Luis, there's no time for small talk so listen carefully," I say. "I need help. Are you busy?"

"Never too busy to help you, girlfriend," he says.

"Good, here's what I need you to do for me. Find out how to get skin unstuck when it's stuck to something with Super Glue. Secondly, and this is plan B, bring an adjustable wrench and pliers to the eighteenth floor of the Di Ponti building and come to the ladies room on the East side. You better bring something like a wrap, maybe a sarong or something. Also bring whatever it is that will get Super Glue unstuck."

There's silence for twenty seconds and then he says, "Let me get this straight. You need to get something unstuck from Super Glue?"

"Not something, someone," I correct him. "Well something and someone that are stuck together. Oh, Luis, just hurry, please!"

"Okay, but I've got one last question. What are the tools for?"

"In case the stuff to unstick the Super Glue doesn't work, they're to remove the toilet seat."

There's another pause and he says, "You've got to be kidding."

"Will you please Hurry!" I yell into the phone.

"Don't get your panties... or is it a thong today... in a knot. I'm on my way, just hang on and don't go anywhere," he giggles

"Very funny, Luis. I'll get you for that," I groan and hang up on him.

# Chapter 2

I may as well tell you about Luis. He's the first friend I made when I moved to the city and he's my BFF for sure. He's about five feet tall and weighs a hundred pounds. He's a gay, Latino, makeup artist, with a lisp. I think his folks are still in Mexico, but I'm not sure. He doesn't like to talk about them so we don't. He's got an impish face with several piercings, and curly, bright, yellow, hair (dyed). If I'm in trouble he's the one I call and ditto for him. We know we can depend on each other and considering the fact that we're always getting into trouble, that's handy.

Naturally, I'm still sitting in the stall on the toilet and hear the door open and close. Twenty minutes has gone by.

"Annie?"

"Luis, it's about time. Where have you been?"

"I got here as fast as I could. I had to stop at a hardware store first. What the hell happened? Or should I ask?"

"Brittany," I reply.

"God, what a bitch. Why don't you just slap her silly?"

"I've thought of it, Luis, but I can't do anything. I've already got a year of jail time hanging over my head and if I screw up I'm heading straight to the county jail."

"When are you going to tell me about that?" he asks.

"Luis, can we continue this conversation some other time?" I ask. "I need to get out of here before someone comes in and needs to use the toilet."

"I'm taking that sign off the other stall door," he says. "It probably just doesn't flush right or something. That way if someone comes in she'll use that stall and leave you alone."

"I don't know. I'm not sure that's a good idea," I say, but he's already taken the sign and ripped it up.

"Okay, Annie, what can I do?"

"Well, what have you got to get rid of the Super Glue?" I ask.

"I read about it and you need WD-40 or acetone. I've got a big bottle of fingernail polish remover and a can of WD-40. I've also got a couple of adjustable wrenches and some pliers and that purple throw I had on my couch."

"You're a life saver."

"Yes, I know. Open the door and I'll hand you the stuff," he offers.

I strain to reach the door lock, but I can't quite reach it. "Luis, you're going to have to climb over the partition or under it. I can't reach the latch. Oh, please, Luis, hurry up. I've got to get out of here."

A few seconds later Luis's head pops up from under the partition and he's smiling at me. He actually has dimples and looks like a maniacal, little, Mexican elf. "Tada!"

"If you take that picture I swear I'll kill you, Luis!" I say as he puts his phone in front of his face with his finger on the button.

"Gee, what a grouch!" he says, but he doesn't take the picture.

He begins to wiggle under the partition and it's pretty cramped. I try to move my long legs out of the way, but they'll only slide so far, thanks to my skin stuck to the seat. It's starting to burn and itch a little, too.

It's at this time that I hear the door open and someone pauses in the doorway. They must be standing there looking at a little guy crawling under a partition in the ladies room and wondering, what the?

"It's okay," I call out. "He's just the plumber."

I hear slow footsteps as she hesitantly walks in.

"Is everything all right?" she asks.

Once again I'm lying to a stranger. "Everything is fine," I say in my best, cheerful, totally false, voice.

"For god's sake, hurry up!" I hiss.

"What?" the stranger asks.

"Oh, not you, I'm talking to the plumber," I say.

I hear the door of the stall beside us open and close and then someone is there beside us using the other toilet.

"I wish you'd told me what color you were wearing. That purple is going to clash," Luis says looking critically at my outfit. Luis has a can of WD-40 in his hand. "I'm going to spray this all around your thighs," he explains matter-of-factly. "Then we'll let it sit for a few minutes and see if it loosens your legs up."

There is silence on the other side of the partition and I swear the woman isn't breathing as she tries to hear what we're doing. "Mind if I smoke while we wait?" Luis asks.

"Yes, I do."

"How did the meeting go?" he asks.

"I never made it to the meeting," I explain. "I was stuck here, but I'm sure there was still a meeting because that bitch told me she was going to see him. I can only imagine what she told him about me."

Luis pats my head. I know he's trying to comfort me.

"Luis."

"Yes, Chica."

"Please don't ever pat my head. I'm not a dog."

"Sorry."

There is complete silence on the other side of the partition. She hasn't made a sound or moved. She can hear every word and sound we make.

"Want to try to move now?" Luis says. "You should be well oiled and slippery by now. I'm just not sure it went all the way under your butt because your cheeks are jammed right down on the seat."

There's still nothing going on beside us.

I try to move my right thigh. It's still stuck to the seat and hurts when I try to lift it. "Ouch," I say.

I try to lift the left thigh with the same result.

"I don't know if I should try the acetone," Luis says. "I think it's okay to mix it with penetrating oil, but I'm not sure."

My phone starts ringing again and it's the same familiar ring tone.

"Are you going to answer that?" Luis asks.

"It's them," I reply. "They're going to ask me what happened, why I'm not here, well I mean there. What should I do?"

"I'd answer it," Luis says.

"I would, too," the woman on the other side says. "It's always better to face things head on. You can only run away from them for so long."

"She's right," Luis says. "Who knows, maybe there's time to save things."

"Not if Brittany got to him," I say.

"Is she bad?" the woman asks.

Luis looks at me and rolls his eyes and looks at the partition and shrugs.

I shrug back at him, but answer her. "She's worse than bad, she's evil."

"Ohh," the voice from the other side of the partition says and clucks her tongue. "Tch, Tch, Tch."

"Time for plan B," I say. "See if you can loosen the nuts on the bolts and we'll lift the seat off."

"I'll have to kneel down in front of you and put my head on your lap," Luis explains as he reaches around me with the wrench. "It feels like a wing nut so maybe the pliers would be better."

"Do you want me to call someone?" the stranger asks. "My name is Cheryl, by the way."

"Hi, Cheryl... Annie here... Luis is the plumber. Please don't call anyone. We've got things under control."

"Okay, sorry I can't be more help. Won't it flush?"

"It's not that... it's sort of a personal plumbing problem," I try to explain.

"There, got them off," Luis proudly says holding up the two wing nuts.

"I'm sorry, Annie, but I have to go," Cheryl, my new friend, explains.

"No, problem, Cheryl," I say and sigh in relief. An audience I didn't need.

She flushes the toilet and leaves the stall. Cheryl washes her hands and leaves.

"Whew, I thought she'd never leave," I say and sigh again.

"She seemed nice," Luis says.

"Yeah, maybe we could have exchanged phone numbers and shown her pictures of the grandkids," I sarcastically say.

"What's that?" Luis asks and points at the floor where a puddle is spreading toward us from the adjoining stall.

"I told you that removing the sign was a bad idea, Luis. The toilet must be clogged and overflows. We've got to get out of here!"

Luis jumps up as the water reaches his knees. "Yikes," he says.

I reach down and pull my thong and stockings up a little. "Please, Luis, don't let me drown on the toilet in the Di Ponti building," I joke and we start laughing hysterically. Tears flow from our eyes. Now his mascara is running, too.

"I have to admit that my life has certainly become a lot more fun since I met you, girl," Luis says. He puts his arms around me and lifts and I try to straighten my legs that fell asleep a long time ago. I'm wobbly, but I'm up. My legs hurt and I can't quite straighten up due to the fact that there's a toilet seat stuck to my ass.

He pulls my stocking up as far as he can, but now they're around my knees along with the thong.

The door opens and closes again and someone walks in. By this time I'm fried and it just doesn't matter anymore.

"Luis, I'll never walk like this. They have to come off."

"It's all wet down there," Luis says. "Your stockings and thong are going to get wet, not to mention that I'll have to put my hands in toilet water."

"Is there a leak?" someone asks from the other side of the door.

"Yes, Queen of the Obvious, there's a leak and we could use some privacy!" Luis says.

"Well excuse me. I didn't know this was your own private wash room," the person replies indignantly.

"I'm sorry," I say. "We're just both a little frustrated," I try to explain.

"Well maybe you two should get a room," she says. "There's a time and a place for everything."

"For your information I happen to be gay," Luis says.

"For your information I don't care if you're gay, straight, bi or just plain one of each," she replies, "this just isn't the place for what you two are doing!" Seconds later the door swings open and shut.

"Now you've done it! She's going to head right to the building manager or maintenance or somebody and tell them that there are two people doing it in the ladies room," I say.

"Why would she think that?" Luis innocently asks.

"Hello? It's all wet down there? Your panties and thong are going to have to come off? A man and a woman in a bathroom stall?"

"Oh... OH!" Luis says as he gets it and then he giggles. "Don't worry. She won't tell anyone, she'll be too embarrassed."

"Take my things off, quick, before she comes back with somebody else."

I lift one foot at a time and he removes my stockings and thong. Luis puts them in my purse and slips my heels back on my feet. "Now what?" he asks.

"Put the throw around me like a sarong to cover the toilet seat. We're going to have to try to make it to the elevator."

He puts the throw around me and holds it at the shoulder.

"It's so Dorothy Lamour," he says.

"Who?"

"Dorothy Lamour."

"From the Wizard of Oz?" I ask and frown.

"No, from the Road Pictures," he says, "with Hope and Crosby."

"We have to start watching the same old movies," I say. "But first we have to figure out how to get me to the elevator and home. Can you pin it up."

"I don't have a pin."

"Well, you can't just walk along beside me and hold it up."

"Why not? You're going to need help anyway. Now, come over to the mirror and let's fix this mascara."

I hobble over to the mirror and I'm shocked by what I see. "O M G!"

His mascara has run down his face and mine is down my face. With the bright purple sarong/throw and bent over with big black streaks down my face I look like something from the circus. Beside me is a pixie with bright yellow hair, dark skin, dimples and streaks of black down his face. I start to cry.

"How are we ever going to get out of here like this?" I ask. "What if he sees me, Luis? I'll die."

"Now, now, stiff upper lip and all that, girl," he says and pats my back, but when he does he let's go of the sarong and it falls.

Luis gathers it up and manages to knot it at my shoulder. Then he starts to work on my makeup and in a few minutes I'm okay. He fixes his makeup and we're ready, well as ready as any fashion model can be with a toilet seat on her ass. I can only take tiny steps and most of my leg movement is hip swivels and baby steps.

"This will never work," I say.

"The elevator is just around the corner," Luis says. "Once we're downstairs I'll bring the car up front and double park and you can rush out and get in."

"Rush?"

"Scoot."

"How about shuffle?"

# Chapter 3

"Wait a minute," I say when we get to the door. I'm still stooped over and my butt hurts. I pull the sarong up over my head and close it in front of my face. I'm peeking out through a small opening.

"Now you look like a shady character," Luis says and shakes his head disapprovingly.

"I'm not going out there if people can see my face," I say.

"Okay, suit yourself," Luis says, "but you're going to look awfully suspicious."

"Luis," I say, "don't you think I'm going to look like a Quasimodo impersonator as it is?" I don't want to mention the fact that Luis always stands out in a crowd.

The door opens and a woman starts to walk in, stops in her tracks, and does an about face, nervously looking over her shoulder.

"Superstitious," Luis says.

"Yeah, I guess so," I answer.

I push the door and we shuffle out. There are a few people at the other end of the corridor, but there's no one between us and the corner to our right. It's just about twenty five feet away. I breathe a sigh of relief.

"See," Luis says, "nothing to it. We'll just get on that elevator around that corner and we'll be out of here in no time."

We start shuffling along and I'm praying, cashing in any brownie points I may have earned for buying Girl Scout cookies or any other good deeds I may have done. I'm looking down at the tiles on the floor as I shuffle along and wondering if a mercy fuck is considered a good deed in heaven when Luis stops and whispers, "Uh-oh," under his breath.

I look up as well as I can and my world and our plan comes crashing down as I stare into those dark brown eyes of none other than Tomi Di Ponti. I swear off Girl Scout Cookies, well except the chocolate mint ones and make a mental note to never ever help out an old and frustrated ex-lover again... ever.

"Can I help you?" Tomi asks.

"No thanks," Luis says. "We're good."

Tomi nods and smiles as he studies me, but he doesn't move. He's standing in our path so we can't go.

"My abuela sometimes wanders off," Luis says.

"Oh, that's your abuela?" Tomi says, still smiling.

"Yes," Luis says. "She likes to walk around in office buildings. I have to get her into the elevator now because she has to go back to the home for her shot."

"Is she in pain?" Tomi asks and frowns, but the damned smile is still playing around on his lips and I swear he's enjoying it.

"No, but she has a condition."

"Oh, a condition," Tomi says and nods knowingly. "What is her condition, if you don't mind me asking?"

"It's a female thing," Luis says.

Where is he getting this? I wonder.

"It's her hormones," Luis continues. "The shot is for her brain," he adds. "It swells up and she acts weird, as you can see."

"I know it's impolite to ask a lady's age," Tomi says, "but could you tell me how old she is?"

"Eighty," Luis blurts out.

"Eighty years old and such beautiful ankles and those red high heels..." Tomi says and winks at me. Then his gaze goes down my back and stops on the bump made by the toilet seat that is holding the sarong up.

Luis nervously shifts from one foot to the other. He follows Tomi's gaze and says, "You're probably wondering about her hump..."

"Well, I wasn't going to mention it," Tomi says, "but now that you've brought it up..."

"It's her brace..." Luis says, "...for her back."

"It doesn't seem to be helping very much," Tomi says.

"Oh, trust me, she wouldn't be walking if she didn't have that on," Luis says.

Tomi is clearly enjoying himself and not about to let us pass. "May I ask how she hurt her back?"

"Fell off a donkey," Luis says, matter-of- factly.

Tomi is trying very hard not to laugh. Is he insensitive I wonder or does he know?

"I really have to get her on that elevator," Luis says.

"Oh certainly," Tomi says. "May I help you?"

"No, I'm sorry," Luis says, "but she can only go in elevators with a family member."

"Why is that?" Tomi asks.

"It's her religion," Luis says. "That's why she can't show her face in public, too. We have to go now."

"Oh, certainly," Tomi says and finally steps aside. "Just one thing," he adds and Luis and I stop.

"If you happen to see a very beautiful woman, about the same height as your abuela, would you please tell her I'm still waiting for her?"

Luis turns to face him and asks, "You're looking for someone?"

"Yes, that's why I'm at the elevator," Tomi says. "I was supposed to have a meeting with a woman to offer her a job, but she never showed up. I tried to call her, but she didn't answer her phone. I'm concerned that something might have happened to her."

"Well, maybe she was in a terrible accident or something," Luis says. "Sometimes when that happens a friend will show up in her place."

"You know, that's funny you should mention that," Tomi says. "That is exactly what happened. Another beautiful woman, a redhead, came into my office and said that the woman I was expecting, Ms. McCauley, was applying for another job, but you know, somehow I don't believe that. I think something else must have happened."

"Does that mean the job is still open?" Luis asks.

"Yes, it is," Tomi says. He steps very close to Luis and says in a conspiratorial tone under his breath, "You know, just between you and me, if your abuela was a little younger, with legs like that, I might offer her the job."

Luis laughs sickly and says, "Ha, ha, that's a good one. Well, if I happen to run into that woman I'll let her know the job is still open."

"Yes, please do that," Tomi says and laughs. "Nice meeting you. That's some abuela you've got there." As he walks away he pats my ass, but it's the toilet seat he connects with. He turns and looks quizzically at my butt, his eyebrows raised as we shuffle for the elevator and tears once again begin to stream from my eyes.

The elevator door closes, Luis sighs, and I say, "Hormones! Her Brain Swells! What the hell were you thinking? He obviously knew it was me!"

"Do you think so?" Luis asks. Usually his boyish innocence is endearing, but at the moment I'd like to slug him.

"Luis, what is it about you? I thought gay men were supposed to be worldy-wise and understand people better than straight men."

"That's a popular misconception, Annie," he says. "Most of us don't have a clue. I feel like I don't fit in and I'm always out of step."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I say. "Now would you please push a button and get us out of here?"

Luis pushes a button and we're going down. When the elevator door opens on the lobby it's crowded, naturally, and he helps me hobble through the crowd. Whoever invented the revolving door didn't have a woman with a toilet seat glued to her ass in mind, or maybe he did (the pervert)! We stand looking at the door and though he hasn't said anything I know what Luis is thinking. He's probably wondering about his choice in friends. People in the lobby are looking at him even more than they usually do.

"Let's just do it," I say. "I know there's a regular door somewhere, probably on the side of the building, but I'm tired and I've had it. I just want to get in the car and get away."

"Do you think we can fit in together?" Luis asks.

"No. I'll go in first and then you follow me," I say as if I really have a clue as to how we're going to get through it.

The door is moving fast as people without toilet seats on their asses' stream in and out of the building. I was never good at square dancing or the hokey pokey and knowing when to do-si-do, star gaze, or put something in and shake it all about and I always seemed to jump in at the wrong moment. I wish now that I'd paid more attention back then, but at the time, high school square dancing was one of those things you tried to forget even while it was happening.

I lunge a whole six inches for the door as it goes by and reach out to catch it to try to slow it down, but it's no use, the people are going through it faster than rednecks through a pork rinds drive-thru.

"Maybe I should get in and try to slow it down," Luis says. "I'll go first. I can slow it down so you can get in it."

"Good idea," I say.

Luis scoots into the door and tries to hold it back, but it hits him from behind and throws him forward. He goes flying by, a horrified look on his face. He mouths the words, next time.

I edge closer and the door is almost hitting me as it goes by. Luis is struggling, but a large woman in a floral dress is leaning into the handle in her little quarter of the door and Luis goes by again. He's sweating and all I can think of is a hamster in a plastic ball as he scurries along. He is making progress or slowing it down, to put it accurately, and the next time it goes by it's definitely slower and if his deformed abuela is ever going to get back to the home for her meds it's now or never. I shuffle/lunge forward, and almost make it in, but the door catches the toilet seat and pinches my butt cheek skin to boot. I let out a yowl of pain. The toilet seat is between the jamb and the door. The door stops abruptly. I see a red-faced guy in a business suit pushing like hell on the handle.

Luis bangs on the glass and gets the guy's attention. The guy stops pushing and I manage to slide in with my butt hurting. We start to move and Luis manages to get out the next time around. The door starts to speed up as soon as he's free and I'm hanging onto the door for dear life and sliding around. As one of my heels breaks off, I have to grab the handle with both hands and when I do the sarong slides off and gets wedged under the door. As it slides off, the sarong pulls my skirt up somewhere around my shoulders.

Everything stops.

If you've ever been stuck in a glass door, naked from the waist down, with a toilet seat stuck to your bum with a crowd of people staring in shock, you'll know how I feel. If not, just imagine it. The door is almost to the point where I can squeeze through and reach the sidewalk.  Luis is reaching in and trying to pull me out, but there just isn't enough room. I need to go just a little farther. I'm pushing and crying and Luis is straining to push the door. The fat businessman, bless his heart, sees the situation and pushes with all his might and considerable weight against the door.

It suddenly pops free, making it over the sarong, and I go flying by as Luis pulls his arm out to avoid being crushed. The businessman is now in control and as he goes over the sarong he picks it up. He keeps pushing slowly and I go parading by the people inside the lobby again. I see men grinning and men and women with their eyes popping out of their heads, their jaws hanging open and several camera phones in use. As I get to the street opening, the door slows down and I manage to shuffle out. Luis catches me in his arms. As the door goes by the businessman hands Luis the sarong. "You dropped this," he says and then he's gone back around in the door. A crowd gathers on the sidewalk as Luis quickly puts the sarong in place.

"You'd think they'd never seen a toilet seat before!" he says in disgust.

I pull it around my head and watch as tear drops fall on the concrete below me.

"I'm going to get the car," Luis says.

Let me tell you about Luis's car as I wait for him to drive up, double park, and help me into it. Many small men own a large muscle car to compensate for their lack of size in other areas of life. Unfortunately for me, Luis is too well adjusted for that and being economically inclined owns the smallest sub-sub-compact on earth. If it was any smaller it would be a skate board with doors. When most people see it the first thing that goes through their heads is, I wonder how many clowns you can fit in a car like that? It's that small.

As I'm looking down, watching the feet of people passing by and slowing down to take a look at me, I see a pair of well worn, highly polished shoes with the cuffs of dark blue above them that can mean only one thing. I peek out to find a cop slowly walking by and eyeing me suspiciously. I'm thinking it's a good thing he wasn't here a minute ago. Of course, at that very moment, my freak show friend, and make no mistake, I love him dearly, comes screeching to a halt in his clown car, double parks, and bolts across the sidewalk. Maybe this would be a good time to mention that Luis usually has this thing about authority figures.

The cop just stands there looking at us, his eyebrows raised, swinging his nightstick. Luis puts his arm around me and starts guiding me to the car as I pray that the cop keeps his mouth shut and Luis does, too.

"You plan on illegally parking very long?" the cop says.

"As long as it takes to get my grandmother into the car," Luis shoots right back.

"Well make it snappy," the cop says.

"I'll take as long as it takes to get her to the car," Luis says.

"I don't like your attitude or the way you look!" the cop says.

"Are you speaking to me or this ninety year old woman?" Luis asks indignantly.

"Well..." the cop's voice has softened. "I just mean we can't block traffic."

"She's doing the best she can!" Luis says.

"I, I... I'm sorry," the cop says. "Can I give you a hand?"

"I don't know if I can get her in the door with her brace on her," Luis says.

"Is that what that is?" the cop asks.

"Yes, she's in a lot of pain as you can see," Luis says.

I am sobbing quite loudly and the cop pats my back. "There, there, now," he says. "Don't worry, ma'am, we'll have you in that car in no time."

He gets on the other side of me and he and Luis are guiding me to the car as I shuffle along. Luis opens the door when we get to it, but there's no way I can bend right to squeeze into the door and get my seat and the toilet seat onto the car seat while swinging my legs in. We struggle for a moment and Luis says, "Maybe we should put her in through the hatch. The seat does lay flat and I can put it down and we can put her in through the hatchback."

"How in the world did she get here?" the cop asks.

"Damned if I know," Luis says nonchalantly. "I got a call from the nursing home and they said she was gone again. Then I got a call from Mister Di Ponti himself telling me she had showed up here."

The cop is clucking his tongue and shaking his head. "They will surprise you sometimes," he says. "Last week we found a guy on the bridge over the freeway, naked as a jay bird, and you'll never guess how old he was?"

There is a pregnant moment. I guess he's waiting for Luis to guess. Finally the cop says, "Eighty nine years old."

"You don't say?" Luis says.

I clear my throat to bring attention to the fact that they've both stopped to share a moment while I'm bent over between them. Luis actually has his elbow resting on my back and is talking to the cop like an old pal.

"Well, we better get her in the car," Luis says.

He opens the hatchback and he and the cop each grab a leg and begin to push me into the car. I'm on my elbows and sliding forward until I'm over the seat and my head is against the windshield, my chin on the dashboard. The cop and Luis are now pushing on my butt as they try to make room to close the door. They manage to get the hatch door down by pressing on the toilet seat, but it won't latch.

I feel a rough hand on my ankle as the cop tries to maneuver my legs. "How old did you say she is?" the cop asks.

"I know what you're thinking," Luis says and chuckles. "She has fantastic legs for a woman her age."

"I'll say," The cop says.

"She's always had beautiful legs," Luis says. "In fact, she was a leg model in the old country."

"Oh," the cop says. "Hey, maybe that's why she comes here to this place that does all the high fashion stuff," the cop opines.

"You know what," Luis says brightly. "I never thought of that, but I think you're right. Well, thanks so much for your help," Luis says and I hear the hatchback latch click.

"No problem," the cop says. "Good luck."

As we drive slowly through rush hour traffic I say, "You do have one hell of an imagination. Is there ever a time when you can't think of something to say?"

Luis is lighting a cigarette and rolling the window down. I hear him take a deep drag and then he sighs and says, "Nope."

"Luis, as you know, I don't have a bath tub, just a shower, so we're going to have to go to your apartment," I say.

"No problem."

"Do you have any wine?" I ask.

"Annie, me girl," he says breaking into an Irish Brogue as my Latino friend sometimes does, for no apparent reason, "gallons of wine and pounds of chocolate."

"In that case, pedal faster, Luis," I say, squirming in vain to find a comfortable position.

# Chapter 4

There's no need to go into the heroics it took to get up three flights of stairs to Luis's apartment. Let's just say that scaling Kilimanjaro would be a snap compared to what we went through. When Mister Nussbaum on the second floor heard us going by he opened his door as he always does and made like he was getting his paper, which lies on his doormat all day so he can pull that wheeze. But this time, despite his skimpy and partially open bathrobe that he always wears, it was Nussbaum's turn to stare in shock instead of the passersby.

Twenty minutes after parking the car, however, I'm in Luis's bathroom and he's running water into the tub.

"Make it hot," I say.

"No problem, Abuela," he says and laughs.

"If you ever tell anyone about this, Luis, I swear I'll..."

"Tell anybody," he says and laughs again. "Annie, didn't you see all those people with their camera phones as you were going around in the door? Something tells me you're going to be a Youtube Sensation."

"Where's that wine?"

"It's coming, sweetie," he says and dumps some bath salt and bubble bath crystals into the water.

A few minutes later I'm sitting on the toilet seat in the tub surrounded by a frothy sea of bubbles and the scent of jasmine. Orange rinds and rose petals are floating in the water and several candles are casting a delicate and reassuring glow on the walls and water. Luis hands me a large crystal goblet of white wine.

"Where's the bottle?" I ask.

"Now, now, sweetie," he says. "It's not that bad."

"Are you kidding me?" I ask. "Did you see him?"

"Oh, my god," Luis gasps. "That man is a Greek God! Those shoulders and those deep dark, sensuous, eyes! He must be six foot four if he's an inch and that long, dark, wavy, hair... "

"Yeah, those eyes that looked right into mine," I add. "I know he recognized me, Luis."

"Well, the good news is that the job is still open. He must have seen right through Brittany's little scheme. That's good. He's not only muy guapo, but damned smart, too."

"Yeah, but will he ever take me seriously after that?"

Luis shrugs and holds out a small plate with gourmet chocolate and I help myself to a piece.

"Is it starting to loosen at all?" he asks.

I try to raise a cheek, but I'm still firmly stuck to the seat. "Nope. I think it's going to take a while," I say.

"Then we've got plenty of time for you to tell me all about Brittany and Tomi and girl, don't leave out a single detail."

"Where do I start? Let me see..."

"How about telling me why the bitch hates your guts?"

"Okay, I guess that's as good a place to start as anywhere," I admit. "Well, as you know, I grew up in a trailer park in West Texas..."

"A fact that I will never divulge and gladly take to my grave with me..." Luis interjects.

"Thanks, but it's not all that bad," I say. "In fact, I had a pretty good childhood. My parents really did love me and did their best. They just were never good at making money, but they made what they had go far enough."

Luis is sitting on a throw rug on the floor beside the tub. He's drinking white wine, too and leaning against the toilet.

"My father's name was Ray and Mama's was Anne so they named me Rayanne. I changed it to Anne when I came here to make it big. Daddy is an oil burner repair guy and Mama works at the local convenience store manning the cash register and stocking shelves."

"It's so... so... so, all American," Luis says.

"Yeah, I guess it is, isn't it?" I say. "I never thought about it much, but I'm just an all American girl from any town U-S-A."

"This is starting to sound like a country western song," Luis says.

"I won't start singing," I promise. "I had plenty of boyfriends. Brit tried to steal each one and usually did, but I wasn't serious about any of them, anyway. The last one was a guy named Norman who worked as a carpenter and wanted to start his own contracting business. He also wanted four kids and thought leaving Mesa View was just plain crazy."

"Ugh," Luis groans.

"But don't get me wrong, Luis, he was a sweetheart. Not overly bright, but stronger than an ox and the kind of guy people describe as steady. Yup, old Steady Eddie Norman wanted a Stable Mabel, but that ain't me. I'll say another thing for him, though, he was loyal and never got taken away by Brittany. That really drove her nuts. Most of the women in Mesa View thought Norman was a catch. I imagine he's married with a kid on the way by now."

"What about Brittany? Where does she fit in?" Luis asks.

I hold my empty glass out and Luis takes it and retreats to the kitchen. In a minute he's back, my glass is full, and he has what's left of the bottle with him. I raise an eyebrow and look dubiously at the meager contents of the bottle.

"Don't worry," he says. "There's two more bottles in the fridge."

"In that case, let me continue," I say and I do. "So anyway, I live in this mobile home park, as some people called it, and Brittany's family lived at the other end of the park, the bad end where all the real trailer trash lived. Her family is a real piece of work, let me tell you."

"Please do," Luis says and smiles. "And don't you leave out one juicy bit."

"We rode the same school bus to school and played together after school and on weekends and during the summer. At one time Brittany and I were best friends."

"So what happened?" Luis prompts me.

"Keep your shirt on," I say.

"Sorry," he says and giggles in a falsetto. "It's just so..."

"Pathetic?" I say.

"No! It's just so real," he says. "I mean, nobody could make this up."

"That's for sure," I say. "Anyway, we're best friends, both tall and gawky and learning about life and growing up. We were twelve when the talent pageant came to town. I'd been taking accordion lessons for six months and could play Lady of Spain, The Beer Barrel Polka, and Danny Boy so well it would bring tears to your eyes. Brittany couldn't play the accordion, but she could strum the guitar and sing like Dolly Parton. She didn't have the boobs, yet, but she had the voice and was starting to be a looker, even back then."

"So you did an act together?" Luis asks.

"Nope, there could be only one winner and the prize was a trip to Vegas for four. So she had to do her act and I had to do mine. Her Mama wanted a divorce from her fourth husband, Darryl and she wanted it bad. Darryl was a drunk and all around piece of crap. I didn't know how bad he was until years later when Brittany confessed to me and told me the whole sordid story of her mama and Darryl and the abuse."

Luis gasps, "You don't mean..."

"Yup, old fun loving Darryl had taken a shine to Brittany and her mama knew it. Evie Carstairs wanted to dump him and Vegas and a quick divorce seemed like the perfect plan. She couldn't afford it on the crap money she made waitressing, but an all expense paid trip to Vegas would make it possible. She'd get her divorce and maybe a restraining order and start looking for number five. Meanwhile, Brittany wouldn't have to fight off a drunken hillbilly every night while her mama was waiting tables at the Gab n' Grab."

"The what?"

"It's a roadhouse cafe kind of thing," I explain.

"Oh."

"It all hinged on winning that contest. I didn't know anything about it. I was just a kid and I wanted to win that contest, too. I didn't give a rat's ass about going to Vegas, but I wanted to be crowned the queen of Mesa View and make Mama and Daddy happy. If I had known my best friend was being molested every night and what it meant to her family to win I would have gladly come in second and won a freezer full of beef..."

"A what?" Luis asks and bursts out laughing.

"Are you going to keep interrupting and hogging all that chocolate?" I ask.

"Sorry," he says and offers the plate of chocolate. I take a few pieces and continue.

"The talent show was at the armory. We were back stage after we all did our numbers. There were little dressing rooms no bigger than a closet and Brit and I had shared one. The damned door kept getting stuck and the lights didn't work so there was only a dim bulb. We went to the ladies room to put our makeup on. After the first round we went back to the ladies room to touch up our makeup and then we went to our dressing room. It made us feel like stars to have a dressing room even though it was little more than a closet. That's when we heard that the two finalists were me and Brit.

"They asked us to come back up on stage to do our numbers and they asked me to come up first. I got so excited I rushed out the door of the dressing room and slammed it shut. I didn't realize it, but the door got jammed. When Brit pulled on it to try to get out the handle fell off in her hand and she was trapped in the dressing room way back in the armory where no one could hear her yelling for help.

"I went up on stage and squeezed out a second number and then we all waited, but Brit never came up on stage. They announced her name several times and asked her to come up to do her encore, but she never showed up. They figured she got a case of stage fright like the guy who did the ventriloquist act in the first round. He and the dummy just stood up there for a few minutes. Finally, the dummy shrugged his shoulders and shook his head and the guy and his dummy ran off stage. The promoters were pressed for time so I was given first prize and Brit won second prize, a side of beef.

"Her Mama didn't get rid of Darryl for two more years. Brit swore I locked her in and ever since then the whole Carstairs clan hates my guts."

"O-M-G," Luis says.

"Yeah, but that ain't even the worst of it. When we were fourteen, Brit went away for the summer, supposedly to help her older sister Merlene take care of all her kids, but I heard what really happened was that she went away to get rid of a little problem that Darryl had left her with.

"Family services showed up at their trailer one day and the next thing we knew old Darryl was long gone. Brit came back and hasn't talked to me until we bumped into each other here in the city. I heard her mama had a gypsy put a curse on me. Lots of rotten things like slashed tires and dead animals showing up on the lawn happened to us, but no one did anything directly because my daddy keeps a colt forty five under the seat of the pickup and ain't the kind of man anybody wants to mess with. Besides, that Carstairs clan is more the kind to stab you in the back than do anything in front of you. They're real good at dirty tricks."

"Like Super Glue on a toilet seat?" Luis says.

"Yup, but that isn't all of it. Brit and I have been rivals ever since. We both had the same dream, to be a high fashion model and both wound up here in the big city. She has shadowed me everywhere I've gone. I've tried to talk to her, but she just won't listen. She always seems to get the best of me, too."

"Well, she didn't get the job," Luis says.

"That's true. Just shows that Tomi is one smart man. He didn't fall for her bullshit. I guess I still have a chance, but how can I ever face him again, Luis?"

"Well," Luis says, "just between you and me, I think he thought the whole affair was funny. The guy is not only drop dead handsome, but he has a sense of humor, too. If life has taught me one thing it's that if you laugh at yourself then other people will laugh with you. Why don't you contact Tomi and act like the whole thing was just one of those funny unexplainable things that happen in life? If he goes along with that, and something tells me he will, then you'll still be able to interview for the job."

"I guess that's not a bad idea," I say. "Luis you're a genius, but a lousy waiter." I hold out my empty glass.

Luis brings a fresh bottle back and fills my glass. Then he sits down and says, "Okay now, sweetie, time to talk about that hunk of a man and also, I'm not letting you off the hook. How in the world did you ever get a year of jail time hanging over your head?"

"One thing at a time" I say and take a sip. "First of all, I think that Tomi could be the one."

"Oh, stop it now," Luis says. "You've only just met the man. Technically you've seen him twice, but I don't think we can really count that second meeting even though he did try to pat your ass. Was the first and only meeting the two of you had really that good?"

"It was magical, Luis. Tomi had seen photos of me and read my resume. He wants someone fresh and new for their spokeswoman. He wants an unknown..."

"Well, you definitely fit that requirement..."

"Watch it."

"Sorry, girl, but let's face it, other than being the frozen beef queen of Mesa View, you're not exactly a household name in the world of fashion."

"Well, I guess you have me on that one, Luis," I admit. "But I am working on it."

"I'm sure lots of people will be seeing your butt with a toilet seat stuck on it as soon as those people put those pictures up on the internet," Luis says, helpfully.

"Ugh," I groan.

"Don't worry, sweetie, there's no such thing as bad publicity."

"Easy for you to say," I say. "Well anyway, here's the Tomi story so far. We met at his farm in the country. He has horses and is quite a horseman..."

"There's a joke in that somewhere," Luis says.

"Well, can we leave it in there for now?" I ask.

"Okay, for now," he says and grins at me.

"Well, anyway, Tomi had seen my photos, thanks to the agency. He called and set up a meeting. He wanted to meet at his farm on a Saturday. It's beautiful with acres and acres of fields and woods and a beautiful house made of stone and logs. He has a huge indoor riding ring. He showed me around the farm and then we went into the riding ring..."

"What was he wearing? Spare no detail, child," Luis says.

"Okay, keep your panties on. He was wearing tight fawn riding britches and a silk shirt with loose sleeves and it was open almost to his navel..."

"His chest, child, his chest, is it?"

"Yes, lots of curly black hair over pecs of steel."

Luis sighs and slumps against the toilet. "Pecs of steel and curly black hair, oh, it's too much," he says and sighs.

"Will you let me finish?"

He waves me on and fans himself with his hand, a far off look on his face as though the pecs of steel were just too much.

"Now, let me go on about the horse and riding and the rest. Tomi has a beautiful chestnut Arabian stallion that he's training for dressage. Somewhere during the conversation I admitted that though I'm a Texas girl I've never been on a horse. I noticed that Tomi got a mischievous twinkle in his eye when I told him that..."

Luis let's out a whimper and bites his finger, but doesn't say anything.

"Tomi takes The Sheik, as he calls the horse, and starts to ride him around the ring. I'm standing there on the edge watching him just in awe of the sight... a Greek God on an Arabian moving as one, faster and faster around the ring."

Luis is breathing harder and starting to sweat.

"As Tomi and The Sheik are flying past, Tomi suddenly reaches down and snatches me up with his powerful arm. He swings me up into the saddle in front of him. I'm on the horse, Tomi's arm around me, I feel his body pressed tightly against my back and suddenly, it's as though we are one. We're flying around the ring, The Sheik's mane flying in the breeze. I've never felt so alive. A cool breeze washing over my body... my nipples were as hard as two bullets."

Luis has toilet paper and is wiping sweat off his forehead. He's very excitable.

"Tomi whispered in my ear, Are you happy? Happy, I was awestruck. Talk about a job interview. I looked over my shoulder and saw him smiling, not just smiling in pleasure, but smiling at me. There was something about it I can't explain. At that instant, that very moment, I knew that Tomi and I were meant to be together. Call me crazy, but I swear that he knew it and felt it, too."

Luis is fanning himself with a copy of GQ that he found somewhere and sipping his wine. "Well, what happened next?" he demands.

"The Sheik broke into a lope and the motion was incredible. Our bodies were pressed tightly, moving together up and down, and I got more turned on than I've ever been in my life. I could hear Tomi panting and knew that he wanted me, too. I felt him against me and knew just how excited he was..."

"And then?"

"Then the horse slowed to a trot and finally a walk. I dismounted and Tomi and I walked The Sheik to cool him down. As we walked he held my hand. He asked me to spend the night with him..."

"Ooooh, girl, you didn't!" Luis squeals.

"No, I didn't," I say. "I was afraid that if I slept with him it would look like I was only doing it to get the job. As you know, I've got rules."

"You and your rules! Are you crazy?" Luis says. "So what if he thought you did it for the job. That was the chance of a lifetime."

"I know, Luis, but one of my rules is I don't sleep with a man on the first or second date and even though it wasn't a date, things happened and I was confused. I've wondered since then if I did the right thing. When I left I asked if I had the job and he said he was pretty sure that I did and he would just have to think it over a little longer. He said he'd be in touch. He kissed me and I swear my knees buckled. He held me up in those wonderful arms of his, I smelled the scent of his cologne and sweat mixed together. I swear I swooned for the first time in my life..."

"Swooned? I didn't realize people really did that," Luis says.

"I didn't either, until Tomi kissed me, Luis, but, now I can truthfully say, I swooned."

"And then he called you to come in again for another interview at his office?"

"Yes, he said he wanted to offer me the job and we had to talk some things over."

"That's when Brittany got involved," Luis says.

"Yes, that's when she got involved, but how the hell did she know that I was going for that job? Does she have my phone bugged? How would she pull that off?"

Luis shrugs. "Beats me, but I wouldn't put anything past her."

"The water is getting cold, Luis. I think I can peel myself off this thing, though... yup, ouch, uh, yesssss!"

"Good, girl!" Luis says and he beams at me.

I'm standing in his tub, buck naked, which would bother me in front of anyone but Luis. He hands me a towel and I wrap it around myself. I look down at the toilet seat. It looks so innocent and out of place through the bubbles and water.

"Turn around and let me see," Luis says. "Uh-oh."

"What do you mean, uh-oh?"

"Well, you've got this red ring around your tush. I hope you don't have to show that part of your body to get the job," Luis says.

"It's not that kind of job, Luis," I say.

"I don't know, a job interview turned into a proposal to spend the night..."

I bite my lip, deep in thought. "Tell you the truth, I was kind of thinking about that..." I start.

"Well, I hate to be a killjoy, but face the facts, Annie. He invites you to his farm for a job interview? He takes you to the riding stable and gives you a free ride? Maybe he was looking for one, too."

"No, I'm not going to let myself think that," I say, but it still is right there, bothering me. What if the whole thing was a set-up and he does that kind of thing all the time?

"I hate to say this," Luis says, "but what if that was set-up and he does that all the time to get a woman into bed?"

"You know what I hate about you, Luis?"

"No, what?"

"You can read my mind."

Luis gives me a hug. "We can continue this on the couch," he says and heads out the door. I follow and we sit on the couch. The purple sarong is in the wash so he has a blue throw on it now. I pull the throw around me and Luis lights candles and brings another bottle of wine. It's starting to hit me. We sit quietly on the couch for a moment or two, lost in thought.

Finally, Luis says, "Okay, girl, spill."

I shrug and sigh.

"You were right about that skirt with the big pockets, Luis."

"Not that hideous green thing with the floppy pockets and white lace hem! Please, tell me you didn't!" Luis screams.

"Yes, I snuck back and bought it when you went home that day. I loved it, Luis."

"You can't wear something like that and be a high fashion model, don't you get that?" he asks me.

"I'm a sucker for pockets, Luis. Do you realize women's clothes rarely have real pockets you can use for pockets, to actually hold stuff?"

"What stuff? That's what designer bags are for," he argues.

"I know, but I'm a country girl and I like pockets. I like my hands free so I can do stuff."

"Girl, what good is it being one of the most beautiful women in the world if you can't get other people to do that stuff?" he says. "Go on, there's more to this than just bad fashion sense."

"Yes there is. You wanted to know what I did to get a year of jail time?"

"You've got to be kidding me," he gasps. "They gave you a year in jail for bad taste? There really are fashion police? I knew it!"

"If I rub your feet will you stop interrupting me?"

He puts his feet out toward me and I start rubbing. Sometimes it's the only way to shut him up and for what I'm about to say I need no interruptions because I need to get it out.

"I'm not really ashamed of having a year of jail hanging over my head," I say, defiantly. "But I got duped or set up and that's what bothers me."

"So that's why you can't scratch the bitch's eyes out?"

"Yes, well that and the fact that Brittany always could take me and I don't feel like having handfuls of my hair pulled out or my eyes scratched."

"Maybe you need some karate lessons."

"Yeah, maybe I do, but for now, I have to behave because I can't go to jail. You know, it really is easy to go to jail in this country."

Luis nods and says, "Especially if you live, shall we say, an alternative lifestyle."

"Well, anyway. I was wearing that skirt..."

"Can we please move on from the skirt and leave it behind us. Just promise me that if you haven't done it yet, you'll immediately burn it as soon as you get back to your place?"

"Okay, Luis, or maybe I'll donate it to a thrift store."

"Don't you dare! It's bad enough that poor people have to wear those clothes, but don't you contribute to their misery."

"Okay, Luis. Well anyway, I was in that big electronics store that we bought my tablet in and I was looking at phones...wearing you know what, and who sidles up to me, but Brittany."

"She's stalking you. I knew it," Luis gasps.

"She starts talking to me about the phones. As you know I try not to argue with her or make her feel bad. She really has had a rough life and, Luis, I do feel kind of responsible for that. If I hadn't slammed the door and been so wrapped up in myself and winning that stupid contest..."

"No. Stop it right there. It was not your fault, Annie. You were just a kid and there was a big opportunity for you and you were excited. You didn't do anything wrong..."

"Maybe, Luis, but I do feel bad. If I'd known what she was going through I would have gladly given her first prize and taken the beef."

Luis chuckles and says, "Now I'll bet that's a line you never thought you'd say. Oh, Annie, let's face it, there are a lot of things we wish we could do over. You're a good person and you didn't do it on purpose, did you?"

"Well, I thought I didn't, but what if I did do it on purpose, subconsciously?"

"There are two things we're not responsible for, Miss McCauley. One of them is our dreams and the other is our subconscious thoughts. I've read about it and we have no control over those things, so you put that thought right out of your head and go on with the story."

"Okay, well, anyway, we were standing there looking at the phones and picking them up and talking about them. She was being friendly and it seemed like maybe she was ready to forget the past. We even joked a little and were laughing at this weird little guy."

"Hey," Luis says, indignantly.

"Sorry, no offense. I mean this little guy was really weird, wearing a trench coat and sun glasses and sort of watching us while trying to be un-noticed... like he was spying on us."

"Uh-oh," Luis says.

"Yeah, uh-oh is right. I was so caught up in talking to Brit and the fact that we were getting along that it never dawned on me who he was. Finally, she said she was going to go over and give him a piece of her mind. I told her I didn't think it was a good idea, but she insisted and told me to wait for her. She went over and talked to the guy and then came back. She told me that she told him she was going to report him to store security if he didn't quit staring at us. He faded away into the store and I never saw him again, well, at least not until I was walking out.

"Brit left and said she had some other shopping to do. I decided to pass on their phones, figuring I could get a better deal somewhere else. So I just walked out of the store. As I'm walking I hear someone yelling, Miss! Miss! I turned around and there was the trench coat guy. He flashed a badge at me and said he was Elliot Smith or something like that, head of store security and I was under arrest.

"I laughed and said it was a mistake and if he wanted to get my phone number he'd have to come up with something more original than that. He didn't laugh. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me back into the store.

"I kept saying, there's some mistake, there's some mistake, as he was dragging me through the store and everybody in the store was gawking at me. I was never so mortified in my life. He led me through a door in the back of the store and into a little office up a flight of stairs. He sat me in a chair and said I was in a lot of trouble and it would be better if I kept my mouth shut.

"I told him he was in a lot of trouble and I was going to sue the store for false arrest. I think I also said something about him being a wannabe cop or g-man or something. That turned out to be a big mistake. As I was looking around the room I saw a picture of J. Edgar Hoover, first Director of the FBI, hanging on his wall."

Luis gasps again and says, "He really was a wannabe G-man!"

"Yup."

"But you hadn't stolen anything..." Luis says.

"He brought the store manager in to be a witness, as he put it. Then he reached into my pocket and do you know what?"

"Oh, no," Luis says.

"Yup, that witch had slipped a phone into my pocket when I wasn't looking. They had me for shop lifting. A real cop came and really arrested me and took me to the police station. They fingerprinted me and took a mug shot and everything."

"Not in that skirt!"

"Yes, in that skirt and without giving me time to fix my face!"

"That's police brutality," Luis says.

"That's what I told them and I told the judge, too. But, Luis, this isn't even the half of it."

"You mean there's more?"

"Who do you think they called as a witness at my trial? Brittany Carstairs, that's who. She got on the stand and lied her redheaded ass off. She told them I had a problem and was a klepto and she had been trying to talk me into getting help. She said that when she warned the detective she had told him that she was trying to talk me out of stealing a phone.

"It came down to this. Accept a plea deal and take a year of suspended jail time and six months probation or spend six months in jail. I told them that Brittany had slipped the phone into my pocket, but it was my word against hers and she had already warned the little rat that I was planning on stealing a phone. As if all that wasn't bad enough, the judge was a redhead. They stick together, you know. It was an open and shut case of screw you."

"You poor thing," Luis says and reaches to pat my head, but then pulls his hand back.

We sit in silence a while and pretty soon I realize that Luis is asleep. I'm dozing myself and decide the hell with it. I scrunch down under the throw and let myself slip into sleep. It's been a hell of a day. Luis is mumbling in Spanish and the candles have burned down.

# Chapter 5

Bells are ringing and somewhere in the distance I hear an organ playing sweetly. A cool breeze blows through my perfectly styled hair. I look up into the deep, dark, brown eyes of Tomi Di Ponti and he smiles down at me. "I'll always love you my darling," he says.

He puts his arms around me and pulls me to him. I feel his wonderfully hard body and tingle with excitement. A flower girl stands at my side, expectantly. A footman opens a carriage door and white horses stand perfectly still waiting to pull the carriage away from the church. A crowd of happy people are throwing rice and flower petals flutter down from the Prussian blue sky.

As Tomi helps me into the carriage I look down at my hand and the gleaming diamond, half the size of a medium ice cube. Children begin singing and the bells get louder. I look at the plush red velvet seat of the carriage. From somewhere to my right I hear a sizzling sound and the driver turns with the reins and a whip in her hand. To my amazement it's Brittany and she's leering at me and says, "Chica, you going to answer that phone?"

"What?" I ask.

"You must take a seat," she says and laughs.

I look back down and the plush velvet is gone, replaced by a white, wooden, toilet seat.

The scent of jasmine wafts on the air and mingles with the bergamot of Tomi's cologne and the smell of bacon frying.

I feel Tomi place his hand on my shoulder and he begins shaking me. I look up through a light mist into his eyes and he says, "Hey, you going to answer that phone? It could be something important." The mist begins to clear, my phone is ringing and Luis appears out of the mist to replace Tomi.

"Oh, no, it was only a dream."

"It must have been some dream. You were moaning and smiling like the cat that ate the parakeet."

"I think you mean canary, Luis," I say.

"No, it was a parakeet. His name was Buddy and my cat ate him when I was seven."

My phone stops ringing and beeps to let me know I have a message.

"Annie, you want some breakfast?"

"No thanks, Luis, maybe just a piece of toast," I say as I try to shake off the shock and fear I felt at the end of what started out so beautifully in my dream.

I shudder and Luis says, "You want to talk about it?"

"No," I say and shake my head. "It was a beautiful dream until Brittany showed up."

"I thought you didn't want to talk about it."

"I don't and why would I when everything I do or say or think has Brittany in it? She's even in my dreams. I was marrying Tomi and the next thing I know there's Brittany with a whip in one hand and the reins in the other."

Luis is holding a spatula and standing at the stove. There's an island between his tiny kitchen and the living room where I'm still on the couch wrapped in the throw. He raises his eyebrows when I mention the whip and reins. "Sounds Freudian. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"No, I just want to forget it. But someday I want it just like that, a team of white horses pulling a carriage and me and Tomi running out of the church as people throw rice and rose petals flutter down from a perfectly blue sky...."

"Is this the dream that you don't want to talk about?" Luis asks and shakes his head. He looks at me quizzically.

"Yes, the dream I won't talk about, in fact, I'm not even going to mention it anymore because she was in it. From now on I'm erasing her from my life. I didn't mean to jam the door shut, I'm sorry her stepfather did horrible things to her and her mother's a drunk, but it isn't my fault. From now on I'm making it a rule to not mention her or think about her, then she has no power over me."

"Good idea," Luis agrees and flips something in the pan.

"Do you know what she had the gall to say to me?"

"Who?"

"Brittany of course, she looks right at me and says, please take a seat."

"I thought you weren't going to talk about her anymore," Luis says.

"Damned right I'm not, that's one of my rules."

"I know how you are about those rules," Luis says and shakes his head.

"Damned right!" I say.

"Your toast is ready," he says.

"That's how she's been getting to me, you know?" I say. "She gets into my head and I get so distracted I make stupid mistakes... like sitting on that toilet seat."

"In the dream?" Luis asks.

"No, in the ladies room at the Di Ponti building. I told you, I don't want to talk about the dream."

"Sorry, I just thought..." he begins.

"You're right though, it is Freudian and I'm not a big fan of Freud, but the whip and reins, that's Freudian, all right."

"Marmalade?"

"It is not, it's true," I say. "I have to be honest with myself. That's one of my rules."

"No, I mean do you want marmalade with your toast?" Luis asks and holds up a jar.

"Oh, yes, please."

"How many rules do you have?" Luis asks.

"Just a few simple rules," I say. "And from now on, I'm not going to let her push me around."

"Is that another rule?" Luis asks.

"Actually, when you think about it, having rules about Brittany is just another way she is invading my life and my space," I say.

"That's true," Luis says.

"So from now on I'm making it a rule not to have any rules regarding her."

"Other than the rule about not mentioning the dream?" Luis asks.

"Yes, I mean no.. I can't have any rules about her. So I no longer have a rule about the dream, I just don't want to talk about it."

"Does that mean you no longer have a rule that you won't mention her or talk about her?" Luis asks, "Because you just made that rule."

"I know I did, but I'm getting rid of that rule. That dream showed me how much power she has in my life. She was driving the coach, she was holding the reins, and she was ruining my life, as usual."

Luis hands me a plate with a slice of toast and puts a cup of tea on a coaster on the small end table beside the couch.

"Annie, I'm getting awfully confused," Luis says.

"See, that's exactly what I'm talking about," I say. "Brittany has a way of doing that. She gets inside people's heads and screws them up, big time."

Nodding in agreement Luis remarks, "You have to give Tomi credit, though, she didn't fool him. He saw right through her."

"True, but I think he also saw through me and the abuela routine. You really did lay it on too thick, Luis. It's like makeup, if the foundation is right you only need a little over the top."

Luis nods in agreement. "That's true, but on the other hand, if you're going to tell a lie, make it a big one so people will believe it."

"Why do people believe a big lie, but question a slight variation of the truth?" I ask.

Luis shrugs his shoulders.

The phone rings again and it's the familiar ring tone.

He looks at me expectantly and raises his eyebrows.

"First, I need a plan," I say.

"Okay, but then you have to talk to him," Luis says.

"Okay."

"What do you want, Annie?" Luis asks very seriously.

"I guess I want to be happy. I want people to take me seriously. Luis, so far my biggest claim to fame is winning a beauty pageant by playing Lady of Spain on an accordion," I answer.

"Sure you want to be happy, everybody wants to be happy. That's what they all say, but who knows what happiness looks like?"

"Luis, have you been watching daytime TV again?" I ask.

Luis frowns and shrugs again. "Don't blame her. It's true. Everybody says they want to be happy, but very few people know what will really make them happy. Some people say they want money, but money is just printed paper. Some say they want to travel, but you can only travel so much and then you have to come home."

He sits on the end of the couch and I munch my toast and sip my tea while I ponder what he just said. It is true. I don't really know what will make me happy. I think it's a man like Tomi, but what if it's not? A man will tie me down. What if I want to travel? What if I get a job offer on another continent? I'm only twenty one and I'm not sure what I want.

"You look like you're lost in thought," Luis says.

"You've got me thinking and I have to admit, I don't really know what I want. Dammit, Luis, why don't you watch cooking shows like other gay men?"

"I do, but you can only cook so much."

"Okay, smarty pants, what do you want?" I ask. "If you're so smart tell me what you want."

"I'm not sure," he admits. "I guess I want to hit the big time, like you. Other than that, I'm not sure. I know a few things about myself, though. I think that's the thing you have to start with. Get to know what you like and don't like. Find out what you can live with and what is a deal breaker. How about you, Annie? What do you know about yourself?"

I think for a minute while I sip my tea and Luis waits, watching me.

"I know this much about myself," I say. "I like to have someone to tell stuff to. Like, remember the time I read the article about the two headed cow? I couldn't wait to show you the picture."

"I guess that's why they have all the social media sites online," Luis says. "People like to share things, pictures, funny stories, things that make them sad. What else?"

"I like to have a reason to get out of bed," I say. "Don't get me wrong, sleeping in late is good, too, but only because there are days when I can't. I was really excited yesterday morning when I got up and knew I was going to see Tomi about the job. Oh, Tomi," I groan, remembering why I'm on Luis's couch and the disaster of the toilet seat.

"What about love?" Luis asks.

"Good question," I say. "I'm not sure I know what that really is."

"How about this," Luis says, "love is a combination of lust and sharing. If you lust after a guy's body and he's also the one you want to call to share something with, that's love."

"Luis, sometimes you're very wise," I say and smile at my friend. "Now, if you're so wise, help me to figure out what to do about Tomi."

"Do you want to see him again?" Luis asks.

"Yes."

"Why? Is it because you want the job that comes with a huge salary and all that publicity? Or is it because you lust after him?"

I sip my tea which is getting cold. "I'm sorry, Luis, but tea just isn't making it this morning. Can I switch to coffee? These questions require something stronger than tea."

"Coffee?" Luis says. "They really deserve tequila."

"It's a little early for that, but I may need some before I call Tomi, if he'll even talk to me."

"Something tells me he'll talk to you," Luis says.

He goes to the kitchen and fixes me a coffee. Luis drinks the strong stuff like Bustelo and sometimes he makes it with cinnamon and steamed milk right on the stove top. He hands me a steaming cup with a frothy head coated with sugar and cinnamon. He calls it cafe con leche.

"Gracias," I say.

"De nada, amiga," Luis replies.

"It's delicious, thanks. Now let's talk about Tomi. Luis, if you saw the way he looked at me over my shoulder. He was beaming at me. I think he was really happy."

"Or horny," Luis adds.

"Well, I hope he was both," I say. "How do you handle it when you really like a guy, I mean a lot, and you've made a complete ass of yourself?"

"But, Annie, is it lust or love? Why are you so crazy about him, other than being a six foot four inch god with shoulders like a life guard?"

"If you'd seen how gentle he was with his horses, Luis... how much they love him."

"Hitler's dog loved him," Luis says.

I look at him coldly.

"I'm just playing devil's advocate," Luis says. "Annie, you need to be sensible."

"Luis, love is too important to be sensible," I argue.

"But your future isn't," Luis says. "What about your dreams and the big time? You have to figure out what you want. Do you want to concentrate on your career now or are you going for love?"

"Can't I have both?"

"Maybe, but it's hard to have both. If you need to travel for your job and it takes you away from the one you love and don't forget about children..."

"I love children."

"But would you want a child now?" Luis asks.

"No, not now, not even his."

"Alright then," Luis says. "Life is complicated. Ignoring the big questions doesn't make it less complicated."

Luis goes to the kitchen and takes a pad from a drawer. He hands me a pad and a pen. "Let's see if we can figure this out," he says. "I have to admit that I don't know what I want, by the way," he says, "before you ask."

"Then how will you ever be happy?" I ask.

"Like I said, I know what I like and what I can and cannot live with. I figure I'll just go along for a while and when I see a situation that meets those requirements, I'll know it's right."

"Okay. Well, I told you some of the things I know about myself. I guess I'll learn the rest by living. I know I want to see Tomi again and I want to find out if he and I could love each other, but on the other hand, I'm terribly embarrassed. I feel like I just lived an old episode of I Love Lucy."

Luis laughs and says, "It was pretty funny."

"It was mortifying. But I want that job and I want to know if he really likes me."

"I guess that means that you're going to have to see him again. It would be better if you called him and explained everything," Luis says.

"I can't tell him that someone glued my ass to a toilet seat," I say.

"You're going to have to," Luis says. "He patted your ass and felt it and by now he's probably found out that a toilet seat went missing from his building. It's not the kind of thing that wouldn't hit the grapevine pretty fast even if no one actually came to him and said, Mister Di Ponti, I know you're a busy man running your family's huge corporation, but I think you should know that a toilet seat has gone missing from the ladies room."

"What should I say?" I ask.

"Just tell him the truth, it's so outrageous that he'll probably buy it," Luis says. He hands me my phone. "It will be better if you call him rather than if he calls you."

I hit the speed dial number for Tomi's office and I hear the phone ringing. His secretary answers and I explain who I am. There is a frostiness in her voice, but she tells me she'll see if Mister Di Ponti is available.

A moment later I hear, "Hello." Like everything else about the man, his voice is sexy. He has a slight accent that I can't quite make out. I think he's Italian, but I'm not sure about the accent. Unfortunately, I'm very nervous and when I get nervous, I mean this nervous, I sometimes freeze up or start to giggle and can't stop. I can't help it. He sounds a little like Ricky Ricardo and all I can think about is the reruns of the I Love Lucy Show and Ricky saying, Lucy, you got some 'splaining to do."

I start to giggle. Have you ever noticed how hard it is to sound sincere and apologize while you're giggling and trying to stifle a laugh? Luis looks at me quizzically and then, as he realizes what's happening, a look of horror spreads across his face. He looks at me very sternly and mouths the words, stop that! That makes me laugh even more.

I lock my jaw, tighten my lips, and say, "Tomi, I think I owe you an explanation..."

As soon as I say the word, explanation, I lose it. I put my hand over the phone and burst out laughing.

"Annie! For god's sake!" Luis shouts. "Pull yourself together."

"Lucy, you got some 'splaining to do," I say and tears stream down my face.

Luis can't help himself and soon he's laughing, too.

My life is now officially ruined. Not only have I lost the job of my dreams, but I've also probably lost the man of my dreams, but it is damned funny.

Somehow I pull myself together and say into the phone. "I'm sorry. I've been under a lot of pressure, lately. You must think I'm an idiot. I will return your toilet seat."

There's a long pause and then I hear Tomi laughing. I've never heard him laugh before and it's a good laugh, what is often described as a hearty laugh, a belly laugh. Sheesh! I've found something else I like about the man.

"So it was you, Abuela," he says. "Who was that strange little man with you?"

"My friend, Luis."

"He should be on the stage or in movies," Tomi says.

"I think the circus would be more like it," I say.

Tomi laughs again and says, "I have never met anyone like you. Are you always this crazy, this unreliable?"

"No, Tomi," I say, "I swear to you that I'm usually a very reliable person. I know I have no right to ask, but I'd like to ask you for another chance."

"Well, we have to meet again anyway, so you can return the toilet seat," he says and chuckles.

"Yes."

"Can you meet me at my office at four in the afternoon?" he asks.

"Yes, I'll be there," I say.

"Good, I'll see you then. You can tell me all about it," he says and then he's gone.

Luis is beaming at me. "Are you going to be able to keep a straight face and tell him what happened?" he asks.

"I don't know," I admit. "I'm not sure I want to tell him about Brittany."

"I think you should warn him about her," Luis says.

"Maybe," I say. "But right now I have two more important things to worry about. First I have to figure out what to wear because I need to look my absolute best this afternoon."

"What's the second thing?" Luis asks.

"I need to find a box big enough to hold a toilet seat."

# Chapter 6

Luis helps me with my makeup, not that I need help, but he's so good and is so nervous, fussing over me, I decide just to let him do it so he'll calm down. I seriously believe he's more nervous than I am. That's pretty nervous. As I walk into the Di Ponti building at three fifty five, I'm barely able to walk. My knees are literally shaking and weak. I decide to do what I always do in situations like this. I count by threes and make believe I'm in a movie and it's just a part I'm playing.

As I walk through that damned revolving door I say to myself, three... six... nine... twelve... by the time I reach the elevator I'm already up to fifty one. Math was never my thing and I have trouble with simple stuff like the times tables so I really have to concentrate to keep counting. That's a good thing because it keeps my mind off the fact that I have a plain brown box under my arm fifty four with a toilet seat in it that fifty seven I technically stole from the man who may be sixty my future boss and possibly sixty three the father of my children, assuming I have any sixty six and the jury is still out on that one, I mean, I love kids, but sixty nine.

I push the button and several other people scoot in at the last second before the door closes. I'm standing in front of the panel with all the buttons and they look at me expectantly. "What floor?" I ask.

"Three," one of them says.

"Six," another one says.

"Thirteen," a third one says.

I push the buttons and realize I've lost my place. Where was I? Sixty something? One guy is eyeing the box. Luis and I had argued over whether we should gift wrap it. I was for plain brown cardboard and Luis wanted to gift wrap it, but then again, Luis is always looking for an excuse to gussy something up. I think a plain brown box is much better than a gift wrapped box, especially when you're returning a toilet seat. I feel like enough of a fool as it is, but now I'm second guessing myself and wondering if Luis was right. I didn't bother looking, but I'm pretty sure there are no rules of etiquette concerning toilet seats that are stolen or borrowed.

The hell with it, I think to myself. I'll just start over... three... six... nine... the elevator seems to be taking forever and people get in as the others get out. I'm soon jammed against the damned panel and pushing buttons and smiling politely, something I do even when someone is being an asshole, don't ask me why, and then we're at the floor and I am getting out, trying to maneuver myself and the box through the crowd forty eight.

Like most rich, important people, Tomi has an outer office with a receptionist and then an inner office with a secretary. The receptionist is a beautiful, well endowed blonde with very pale skin and baby blue eyes. A small plaque on her desk reads, Ms. Hopkins.

Maybe she'll have to go when he and I tie the knot, I think to myself.

She smiles at me and I tell her who I am. I swear she's smirking. "Please take a seat," she says and turns away quickly, but not quick enough to keep me from seeing the foolish grin that spreads across her face. Yup, Ms. Hopkins is a goner now, if she wasn't before.

"Would you like me to take that?" she asks and nods at the box.

"No. I'll hold onto it," I say and sit down with as much dignity as I can muster.

She goes into the secretary's office and the next thing I know there's a regular procession past the door and people gawking at me. What the? I speed dial Luis.

"Please don't tell me you're in the bathroom again," he says.

"No. Luis," I say. "People are looking at me like something in a freak show."

"Yeah, I know why," he says.

"Don't tell me, let me guess," I say, "all those people with their damned cell phones taking my picture?"

"Yup, it's all over the internet," Luis says. "Your video in the door has already gotten a quarter million hits. You're famous, Annie."

"Whatever happened to respecting a person's privacy?" I ask.

"I think you signed off on that when you stuck a toilet seat on your ass and did the hamster in a wheel thing in a downtown building during rush hour."

"Thanks a lot. I've got to go," I say as the secretary and the receptionist walk out. The secretary is an older woman, perhaps in her forties, it's hard to tell. She was probably never a looker like the receptionist, but she has a certain air about her like a librarian or a school teacher. She looks at me over her glasses as though she's inspecting me and getting ready to assign me detention for smoking in the girl's room.

I look right back at her and look her up and down.

"May I take that?" she asks, reluctantly and nods at the box.

"No, thank you," I reply. "I've gotten it this far and I'll get it the rest of the way."

She looks at me, wrinkles up her nose, and screws up her face as if she's wearing shit for a stick pin.

"Don't worry, I washed it," I say. She rolls her eyes and leads me into the inner sanctum and I start again... three... six...

Tomi is sitting at his desk and laughing like a hyena as he looks at the screen on his computer.

"Don't tell me, let me guess..." I say, "the revolving door lady?"

"Is that for me?" he asks.

I hand him the box and say, "I washed it."

He chuckles and says, "Can I offer you a seat... I mean a chair?"

"Sure, whatever," I say. The counting is over and now I have to concentrate and look sincere.

He and I are sitting in the over-stuffed chairs in his office on the other side of the room from his desk.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asks.

"No, thanks," I say.

He smiles and nods at his secretary and she shoots me one last disdainful look and walks out.

"First of all," I start, "let me apologize for missing our meeting. As you and half the people on the planet know, I was here yesterday, well, in the building, that is."

"Yes, I saw the video," he says.

I blush like I haven't blushed since I caught my parents doing it under the Christmas tree when I was eleven. "I feel like an idiot..." I start.

"What happened?" he asks.

"I think you had a visitor yesterday. A redhead named Brittany?"

"Yes, she was here," Tomi said. "She said she was a friend of yours and that you had decided to take another job. She claimed that you had sent her and that you thought she would be right for the position of spokesperson."

"That sounds about right," I say. "She's a liar and the reason my behind was glued to your toilet seat."

Tomi starts laughing. He puts his hand in front of his mouth and I can see he's embarrassed. As if putting his hand in front of his mouth is going to keep me from seeing that he's laughing. "Glued?" he manages to say.

"I think it was Super Glue," I say. "Or something like it."

He takes his hand away and reaches to pat the top of my hand. "That's terrible," he says, but then he's laughing again. As he touches my hand a little tingle goes up my arm.

"Actually, it's hilarious," I say and start laughing with him.

"Have you seen the video?" he asks.

"I don't think I'm ready for that, yet."

"Well, whenever you're ready."

"Thanks," I say.

"Are you alright?" he asks. His hand is back on top of mine. I like it. He realizes he's touching me and says, "I'm sorry," and pulls his hand away. "Like I said, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay. It just left some red marks."

"If you don't mind me asking," he says. "How did you get it off?"

"We tried WD -40 and acetone, but it was soaking in a tub that finally did the trick."

"I'll have to remember that," he says. "We?"

"Luis and I," I say.

"Is he..." Tomi begins, but then pauses and shifts uncomfortably in his chair.

"My boyfriend?" I ask. "No, he's just my friend. He's gay. He's also a great makeup artist and could use some work. We live in the same building. He's just one of those friends you can always call on. I'm not dating anyone."

I think about the horse riding thing and wonder if I should bring it up, but before I can say anything Tomi, as if he's reading my mind, says, "I think we should talk about what happened at the farm, when I was riding and you... well, what I mean to say is..."

"I've thought of that a lot," I say and instantly regret it. Don't appear too anxious, Annie! I think to myself.

"I have, too," Tomi says. "I'd like to apologize. I think I came on too strong and it was very unprofessional of me. I mean, I shouldn't have done that. You were there for a job interview. I just thought it would help you to see what I'm like and to get to know me because my products and everything I do in the business world is just an extension of who and what I truly am."

"I can understand," I say. "You don't have to apologize. It was actually wonderful."

There's an awkward moment and the room is silent. He looks around the room, avoiding my eyes. It's almost like he is a little boy and got caught kissing his cousin. I can't believe how adorable he is while still being such a sexy hunk.

Finally, I say, "Is the job still available?"

"Yes and no," he says. "You have to understand that the brand, Tomi Di, is a very serious product line. We present it as chic and a little elegant and after you..." he pauses uncomfortably.

"You don't want a spokesperson who was seen stuck half naked in a revolving door with a toilet seat on her butt?" My heart, which was formerly in my throat is now bouncing off my feet.

He nods. "Annie, believe me, as far as I'm concerned, I think you can still do the job, but I have investors. My biggest investors are my uncles. It's sort of a family business. As you may know, my parents started the Di Ponti line of hair products from their chain of salons and I built it up to what it is now. We have a complete line of cosmetics and accessories and we're even starting our own clothing line, all of it with the Di Ponti name on it."

"And an idiot from West Texas who does stupid stuff like that..." I feel terrible. Like the room is getting darker and colder and something I want very much is slipping through my fingers.

"I have a plan," Tomi says. "I want them to meet you. The final decision is still mine, but they can make things rough for me if I go against them and they're very upset that I want you to represent us after what they've seen."

"What do you want me to do?" I say. "I'll do anything to prove to them that I don't do crazy things like that all the time. Tomi, I really want this job and I feel I could do it very well."

"Yes, I know, Annie," he says. "I picture you dressed elegantly and in a setting, perhaps a galleria in Italy or a cafe in Paris, wearing our jewelry, maybe diamonds from the Di Ice collection and long elegant black gown, chic, understated, elegance."

He's holding my hand. The man just can't seem to keep his hands off me and I'm not complaining. On the other hand, no pun intended, I can't say anything about the attraction or how I really feel. He has to make the moves if it's going to happen. He's holding my hand and I grasp his and give it a squeeze. He smiles at me and our eyes meet, but then there's a knock on the door and the secretary comes back in.

"Yes, Greta?" Tomi says.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Greta says and shoots me some eye daggers, "but you have an appointment with the fabric suppliers from Milan."

"Oh, right," Tomi says. "I'm sorry, Annie. I would have scheduled more time for our meeting, but as you know, we made it at the last minute this morning. I have to see these men. They came here all the way from Milan to show tapestry fabrics for some of our handbags."

"Of course, no problem," I say.

"I'll tell you what," he says. "I'm having a dinner tomorrow night. My uncles will be there. I'd like you to join us. That will give us a chance to get to know each other a little better and it will show them what a normal person you are. Greta will give you my address and directions to my penthouse. Can you make it?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," I say and smile. We're still holding hands. I see Greta staring at our hands, a stern look on her face.

Tomi walks me to the door and Greta shows a couple of men into the room. As they pass me they give me the eye. I hope Tomi asks their opinion of me because something tells me they'll give me the stamp of approval. One of them, an older man with gray hair and a pot belly, winks at me and I wink back. He smiles and I smile. It can't hurt.

When the door closes behind the delegation from Milan,Greta sneers at me and says, "I suppose I have to give you directions to Mister Di Ponti's?"

"If you give me the address, I can find it on my own."

"I'll bet you can," she says. She writes the address on a sticky note. I hold my hand out and she sticks it to my palm.

"Don't lose it," she says.

I tuck it into my purse, smile, and walk out the door.

On the way to the elevator I realize I have to pee and could really stand to sit down and just get myself under control. Though I put on a good act I was scared stiff. Now I have to meet the uncles? Greta the bitch was bad enough. Yup, as soon as I'm Missus Di Ponti, she can go with the receptionist. I head for the ladies room, but when I get to the door my stomach does a flip flop. A little voice in my head says, really, you want me to go in there again?

A voice behind me says, "Excuse me..."

I recognize it immediately. It's my old pal, Cheryl. I step out of the way and smile. She goes in and I hesitate, but I have to know. I walk in and see that the sign is still on one stall announcing that it's out of order. Cheryl has already gone into the stall that apparently has a new toilet seat. It's already replaced? I guess some things move fast in the world of fashion.

"I'll be done in just a minute," Cheryl calls cheerily from behind the closed door.

"Take your time, Cheryl," I say.

There's a pause and she calls back, "Annie, is that you?"

"Yes, it is," I answer.

"How did it go?" Cheryl asks.

"You don't watch YouTube much do you, Cheryl?" I ask.

"I thought you looked familiar," she says. "Oh, my god! Revolving door lady!"

I stand in front of the mirror and check my makeup while I wait for the stall. Something tells me I'm going to spend a lot of time explaining what happened over the next few weeks.

# Chapter 7

One of the great things about living in Queens is the fact that a lot of the shoots I have to do are within walking distance or I can take a train, cab, or bus to get to my work. Luis and I are walking down the sidewalk early the next morning. We've taken the train to Manhattan. It's a little cold, but we don't have far to go. "Is she doing this shoot, too?" Luis asks.

"I don't know," I reply. "I haven't seen or heard from her since the incident and that worries me."

"I imagine she's just enjoying herself watching you on the net over and over again."

"Yeah, but you know what, Luis, publicity is a funny thing. Since that YouTube video went viral I've been getting more job offers. Let's face it, you were right, there's no such thing as bad publicity."

"Maybe, but how is it going to affect your shot at the Di Ponti gig?"

"Not great, I guess, but I think I'll get it. I mean, the uncles are in Italy, right? They've probably never even heard of the internet. What? Why are you raising your eyebrows at me?"

"Annie, it's so provincial to think the rest of the world doesn't use the internet. Of course they use the net and I'll bet the uncles have seen your video."

"Really? Shit!"

"On the other hand, Annie, though you weren't at your best, they did get to see your ass... the part that wasn't covered by a toilet seat. Maybe they'll think it was just a crazy stunt to gain publicity. You could always tell them you're working for a toilet seat manufacturer... this is it," Luis says. We go into a building and sign in for the shoot.

"This isn't bad," Luis says. "At least we'll be indoors on this one."

We take the elevator to the penthouse. The penthouse is one very large room with walls of glass that give a stunning panoramic view of the skyline. There are also several bedrooms that have been converted to dressing rooms. The backside of the penthouse, where the pantry and bathroom are is converted to a workspace for the makeup artist, Luis, and the technicians. The old picture of a photographer in a studio shooting rapid fire shots with a handheld camera are a thing of the past.

There's now a team of technicians who man the computers while one or two photographers shoot with digital cameras that are connected directly to the computers. We're shooting for a furrier so the costumes are chic and the furs are the thing. We'll put on a costume then pose on the couch or in front of the windows with several different furs. Since it's so easy to exchange furs rather than changing an entire costume and sometimes makeup as well, it's going to be an easy day. Then Brittany walks in, late as usual, and the day goes pear shaped. She scans the room, spots me and says, "Annie, let's share a dressing room."

I know several of the girls and of course, Luis. The photographer, Thomas, can be a little bit of a twit, but not as bad as some. He spends most of the time complaining about the light which isn't great. His lighting tech is trying to please him, but it isn't going well, while they argue Luis works on me, of course. While I'm in the chair, Luis says, "Annie, you're getting bags under your eyes."

"I am?" I say. "I'm not surprised."

"Hi, Luis," Annie says and sits in the chair beside me. Another makeup artist goes to work on her.

Luis glares at her and says to the other artist, "It'd be easier if you just put a big bag over it."

Brittany sneers at him and says, "Oh, is the circus in town? That's funny, I didn't see the clown car parked out front."

"It's more likely to be a dog show with a bitch like you around," Luis shoots back.

The photographer isn't running the shoot. A woman named Maxine is in charge. Her company runs shoots and other publicity events for big companies and ad agencies.

"Could we have a little less of that," she says tiredly as she walks up behind Luis. Then she looks at me and cracks, "Uh-oh, Annie's here. Hey, somebody count the toilet seats."

The whole room erupts in laughter. She winks at me and pats my forearm. "Sorry, Annie," she says with a smile, "I just had to say something. Love what you did with that revolving door."

I smile back at her. What else can I do?

"Okay, Maxine," Thomas calls, "I'm ready. Let's start with the sables. Give me something dark first so I can check the contrast. We may need a filter."

The shooting starts and we're busy getting dressed and exchanging furs. Thomas is fussy and complaining, but I can tell he's really happy with the work and the techs are getting the results they want. It's funny how they sometimes just can't get the look they want and sometimes they can. It affects everybody on the shoot.

There's food in the pantry, but very few models are going there. The other people, on the other hand, are sampling and sipping.

During a lull in the action I'm sitting on the edge of a bed in one of the bedrooms. Brit comes in and sits beside me.

"Hey, Annie, how did your interview go the other day at Di Ponti?" she asks.

"You know damned well how it went," I say.

"Well, that's too bad. Sorry you didn't get the job, but I think it was a little over your head and you weren't suited for it. I think they needed a taller more exotic looking woman, a redhead, for instance."

I shouldn't say it, but I can't help myself and blurt out, "For your information, smartass, I'm going to dinner tonight with Tomi and his family and the job is still up for grabs. Something tells me that if he invites me to his house for dinner and to meet the family he must still be interested in hiring me."

"You're full of shit," Brit says, but I can see she's lost some of her steam and her shoulders sag a little.

"Why do you think he didn't offer you the job?"

"You'll get that job over my dead body," Brit says.

"Now that sounds like a great perk to me," Luis says as he joins us.

"Brit, why can't you just drop it and quit being such a bitch?" I ask. "It's not like you're losing something if I get a break. We can both be successful."

We sit in silence for a moment and then she says, "So what you're telling me is that you want to be friends and you'll help me?"

"Sure. I don't think there's any reason to continue this feud."

She sighs and says, "Well, I guess you're right. We don't seem to be getting anywhere with it. Does that mean that if you get a big break you'll help me and if I get a big break you'll expect some help?"

"Okay. It makes more sense than working against each other. Don't we both want the same things? I want to be a top model."

"So do I," she says and once again lets out one of those long sighs of hers. Until you've heard Brit sigh you haven't heard a truly world weary sigh. "What about men?" she asks.

"What about them?"

"Don't you want to find a man and fall in love?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I do, but not as bad as I want to be a model."

Luis is looking at us both suspiciously. When I say that he raises an eyebrow, but Brit can't see it.

There's another silence.

"I guess I've gone too far, haven't I?" Brit says. "Okay, it's over."

Maxine calls her name and Brit is up for more shooting. As she stands in front of the windows with a silver fox stole draped over her bare shoulders, the city skyline and an angry gray sky behind her, I have to admit that she is a very beautiful woman and I do wonder why Tomi would choose me over her to represent his company. It makes me a little queasy.

"Whatcha' thinking?" Luis asks.

"I'm wondering if it really is over. She's hated me for so long and done so many things to me."

"I guess time will tell," Luis says. "But until you're sure, don't let your guard down."

"Why does Tomi want me when he can have her?"

"Oh, come on, Annie, there's no comparison..."

"You're right, she's taller and more beautiful. She's exciting, different... just look at her."

"You're a beautiful woman, too, Annie, and you've got more class. You're elegant."

"Do you think he'd prefer me in bed? She's so hot!"

"OMG, Annie, quit putting yourself down. You're so hot and sexy."

"I hope so," I say. Then it's my turn and I'm busy working with Thomas.

When the shoot is over Luis and I are leaving and Maxine says, "Annie, can I have a word with you?"

"Sure," I say.

We go into one of the bedrooms and sit on a bed.

"How are you doing?" she asks.

"I'm fine."

"Good. I have to say that thing with the toilet seat and the revolving door... well, at first I didn't know how it would affect your career, but there's actually been quite a buzz about it. Mind telling me what that was all about? I'm assuming it wasn't really just some kind of publicity stunt," she says.

"No, it wasn't a stunt. I was actually stuck to that seat, or it was stuck to me. Someone played a practical joke on me."

"Wow, some joke," she says. "Are you alright now?"

"Yes, I'm fine. What can I do but laugh about it? Laugh and the world laughs with you."

"Piss and moan and nobody gives a shit," Maxine adds and laughs. "I heard you were being considered for the Di Ponti spokeswoman job. Is that true?"

"Yes, it is, although that fiasco almost cost me the part. I'm going to his apartment for dinner tonight to meet his family and discuss it."

"Oh?" Maxine says.

"Is there something wrong? Something I should know?" I ask.

"Well, you've only met Tomi so far?"

"Yes, and he seems very nice."

"By that twinkle in your eye I'd say you think he's more than just nice," Maxine says and chuckles.

"Yeah, actually I think he's hot," I admit.

"He's quite a man," Maxine says. "I like him, but don't rush into anything, okay?"

"What do you mean?"

"Meet his family and get to know them. Will his parents be there? You know they turned the business over to him, don't you?"

"I knew he was running the business, but I didn't know what the deal was with his parents. I'm supposed to meet some uncles, too," I say.

"Really? The uncles are coming over. Then it must be serious," Maxine says.

"What's serious? Is there something wrong with the family... something I should know?"

"I actually met the whole family in the past. I met them in Italy. I think they really may be family," she says and pauses, studying my face.

"Yes, well of course they are, and what can you tell me about them?" I ask.

"It doesn't bother you?"

The smile fades from my face. "What doesn't bother me? That he wants me to meet his family? Of course not. What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't look so worried, honey," Maxine says and pats my arm. "I've probably said too much. I'm sure it will be fine. Just take your time and make sure you know everything about the job and what you're getting into. Your agent should be in on any negotiations. Remember that."

"Of course I will, but what about his family?"

"Annie, the Di Pontis are a complicated bunch of people. I can't really say more, it wouldn't be right and I don't want you to have the wrong impression before you go there. Just remember that things aren't always what they seem." Maxine gives me a hug and is out of the room while I'm left sitting on the bed wondering what the hell just happened and if I really heard what I think I heard. Is there something screwy about the Di Pontis? Can this get any weirder?

By the time we leave the shoot the sky is no longer angry. It is sad and weeping, or to be more precise, it's raining.

"Let's just get a cab," I say.

Luis tries to flag down a cab, but he's getting nowhere and the rain is falling harder all the time. I give it a shot with the same result. They don't even slow down as they zip past us. Maybe we look like trouble or something. I usually don't have trouble getting a cab to stop for me.

Brit walks out of the building and a gust of wind blows her brilliant hair into a wild tangle. Her short skirt is blown up even higher revealing her magnificent legs as she confidently strides to the curb. Two cabs swerve toward the curb almost crashing. The drivers are shouting at each other as Brit gets into the closest cab. Luis and I race to the other cab and get in.

"Well, she's handy to have around when you need a cab," Luis says to me.

I smile and nod, but it's just another shot my ego didn't need.

The driver is foreign. I try to read his name on his license, but it's all Greek or something to me. He's checking me out in the mirror and smiling broadly. He nervously looks away when Luis catches his eye in the mirror. Luis gives him our address and turns to me and says, "See, you're hot. Don't you roll your eyes at me." He grins and I laugh.

Even though I've just come from a shoot and I've been made up seven ways to Sunday Luis insists on giving me a touch up and fussing with my hair. By the time he's done I'm, in his own words, a masterpiece.

"If you're going to make it to his farm you'd better get going," Luis says.

"I'm not going to his farm. We're meeting at his penthouse tonight," I say.

"That sounds good," Luis says. "Going to his penthouse and meeting his family."

"Have you ever heard anything about the Di Ponti family, Luis?"

"Yes, I've heard they're rich," Luis says. "I like most of their products, too. Why?"

"You know that Maxine took me into a room and had a chat with me?"

"Yeah, what was that all about?" he asks.

"It was weird. She asked me if I'd met the family and kept saying things about the family and how it would probably be okay, but I should be careful."

Luis shrugged. "Maybe she had trouble with them in the past. I've never heard anything one way or the other," he says. "You know how this business is. Your agent will be handling all the details, right?"

"Yes, and speaking of Marcie, I have to call her to let her know I'm meeting them tonight. She'll want to know what's going on. What are you up to tonight?"

Luis nervously avoids my eye. "Oh, I don't know," he says. "Maybe I'll just watch TV."

"Luis, is there something you're not telling me? When you act like a little boy who can't look Mama in the eye there's a man involved. Who is it, Luis?"

"You don't want to know."

"Luis, please don't tell me it's Ricky."

Luis nods.

"Oh, Luis, you can do better than that two-timer."

"I know," Luis admits. "But knowing you were going to meet Tomi got me to thinking about stuff."

"Stuff?"

Luis giggles.

"You're hopeless," I say and give him a hug.

"He's just coming over for a drink. Don't worry. I won't let it go too far. I've learned my lesson," he says.

"Yeah, right, well, okay. Be careful," I say. As I say that I realize that is what people have been telling me. It promises to be an interesting night, no?

I already told you that Luis is my BFF. Marcie is my second BFF, if that makes sense. She took me on with little more than a file folder with some photos in it. Now I have a portfolio and a real agent. She has a whole string of girls like me to keep busy, but she always manages to find me enough work to keep a roof over my head. She looks out for me like a big sister. She's in her thirties and actually not bad looking. I've wondered if she ever modeled, but haven't had the courage to ask her.

When she answers I can hear people talking in the background. "Hi, Marcie, glad I caught you in the office. I wanted to catch up on things."

Marcie starts laughing. "Things?"

"Well I guess you've seen the video, everybody else on the planet has. I can explain."

After a slight pause she says, "So, go ahead, explain."

Apparently I'm not getting off the hook. "Remember that woman, Brittany," I begin. "You won't believe it, but she put glue on a toilet seat and I got stuck to it."

Once again, there's a pause as Marcie takes it all in. "I thought I'd heard it all before in this business," she says. "She glued your ass to a toilet seat?"

"Yup. So I never got to the meeting with Tomi and that's why you haven't heard from me."

"Annie, you're a big girl and this is the big time. It's funny, but as your agent, I have to ask, how the hell did you let that happen to you? You know the woman hates you? Did she actually attack you and force you to sit on it?"

"No, she tricked me... well, actually, I just had to pee real bad."

"Okay, Annie, I've gotten a lot of calls and it probably helped your career in the long run, but we can't fool around and you have to be careful around this Brittany character. Now, where do we stand with Di Ponti?"

"I met him yesterday at his office and explained it enough so he knows that I meant to be there and something beyond my control happened. I think the second meeting went well. In fact, I know it did, but his uncles apparently own part of the company and they want to meet me. They flew here from Italy."

"Wow, they flew here all the way from Italy just to check out the spokesperson? They must be pretty excited about the latest campaign, unless something else is up. Remember, Annie, you can meet them and talk about the campaign, but no figures or negotiations without me present, okay?"

"Okay, Marcie."

"How did things go today?" she asks.

"It all went good."

"Was Brittany there?"

"Yes, but I think we managed to work things out and she won't do anything vicious again," I say.

"Let's hope not, Annie. I don't have to tell you this is a huge opportunity for you. This could be the break that people wait for their entire lives."

I couldn't agree with her more. I'd love to tell her about Tomi, but maybe that would be a mistake. I've got to focus on the job and my career.

"I understand, Marcie. Don't worry. I'll send you a message to let you know how it went as soon as I leave."

# Chapter 8

Tomi meets me at the door of his penthouse. He smiles, but his eyes don't smile. What does he have to worry about? I wonder.

"Annie, you look ravishing," he says. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, I guess so," I say and smile.

"Good," he says and pauses. As we stand in the foyer, he hesitates and shifts uncomfortably on his feet.

Finally I say, "Shall we go in?"

Again he smiles, but his gorgeous eyes, usually so full of life and twinkling like lights on a Christmas tree are worried. He puts his hand on my upper arm and says, "Good news, my grandmother came over, too."

"Wonderful," I say and beam at him. Be positive, Annie.

"Yes, isn't it?" he says and laughs nervously.

"I'm dying to meet them all," I say.

"Yes," he says and smiles.

"So?" I ask again and nod toward the living room.

"Yes," he says and smiles.

I wait. The night is already super weird and we haven't gotten past the foyer. "Are your parents here, too?" I ask.

"No, they couldn't make it," he says. "There's really nothing to worry about."

I feel so bad for Tomi. He's obviously in some kind of distress, but what the hell can I do about it?

He sighs, shrugs his shoulders, and says, "Okay, I guess we may as well go in."

He leads me into his living room. The uncles are sitting on the couch and in a few over-stuffed chairs. The scent of food wafts through the room and hits me. I haven't eaten all day and I'm suddenly starving. It smells like garlic and olive oil along with oregano and who knows what else, but it's all so lovely I just want to sniff my way to the kitchen.

The uncles, four of them to be exact, are all tall and dark. They're older men, but I don't see a pot belly in the bunch. I hear pots banging and yelling in the kitchen. They're all wearing designer suits and I think to myself, if this is what Tomi will be like when he's older, sign me up.

Tomi shoots a nervous look at the kitchen. The uncles are smiling, but they too seem to be distracted by what is happening off stage. They stand as Tomi introduces us.

"May I present Miss Annie McCauley? This is Uncle Florio, Uncle Vito, and Uncle Giuseppe."

"Bella Signorina!" Giuseppe says and smiles. The tallest of the lot, he has a big handlebar mustache and a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "You can call me Joe." He latches onto my wrist and starts kissing my arm working his way up toward my shoulder.

What the hell do you do in a situation like this? I smile.

Tomi says, "Yes, well enough of that, we have more introductions." He detaches Uncle Lamprey from my arm and I turn to the final entry in the tall, dark, and possibly a little too forward, uncle contest. I've been smiling like a jackass eating cactus since I walked in the room and my face is starting to hurt, but the smile fades when I look into the incredibly black and dull eyes of uncle number four. There's no humor in his eyes. A purple scar stretches across his left cheek. His face tells the story of a man who has suffered, though I'll be damned if I know why he suffered.

If Marcie thinks she's seen it all she should get together with this guy. He looks like he's not only seen it all, but he's lived through it to tell the tale. If he didn't look so foreboding I'd want to hug him, but there's something in his stiff posture and emotionless face that tells me to keep my hands to myself. I hate to say it of Tomi's own kin, but the guy looks like he could play the part of a hit man in the next HBO special. A chill runs down my spine.

"This is Uncle Tony," Tomi says and I note the sound of reverence in his voice.

"Signorina, please to meet you," he says very formally.

Their English is very good, though all speak with a slight accent.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," I lie. "Thank you for having me..." I'm cut off in mid sentence by a shriek and the sound of running feet and pans flying and bouncing off walls.

A fat guy comes careening out of the kitchen with a little old lady behind him. She's waving a pan and sputtering in Italian, I guess.

The fat guy is balding and wearing a sweatshirt and blue work pants. He's dodging and ducking as the old lady threatens him with the pan. She comes to an abrupt halt when she spots me.

Tomi smiles ingratiatingly and says, "Nonni, please come and meet, Signorina McCauley."

The old lady glares at me. The fat guy sidles away from her and toward us.

"This is my nonni," Tomi says.

The old lady looks me up and down like a piece of prosciutto hanging in the butcher shop window. She sneers, obviously not liking what she sees.

"And this is my Uncle Paulie," Tomi says and points toward the fat guy.

Paulie produces a cannoli from his pocket and takes a bite. "Ciao," he says in a soft voice.

Then I realize that there's something different about him; the way he stands and hangs his head a little. He's childish.

I smile and say, "Ciao, Paulie. It's nice to meet you. It's nice to meet you all. Thank you for having me here."

Nonni rolls her eyes and stomps back into the kitchen.

Tomi sits on the couch and I sit beside him. Our hips are touching and I can feel the warmth of his body. It reminds me of my riding lesson with him and I'm glad I've come to dinner. Uncle Joe sits across from us, his eyes constantly darting between my legs and my breasts. Apparently, the low cut, short dress was a mistake, but I foolishly thought they would want to see what their spokesperson had going for her. On the other hand, if I have to win them over, one by one, I think I've already got Joe in my corner. Vito is smiling and making polite conversation, asking me about where I'm from and the usual small talk. I explain about West Texas and he asks me if there are really cowboys there. I assure them that there are both cowboys and cowgirls and that gets a smile from Joe.

"I'd be happy to help out in the kitchen," I offer and begin to stand.

"No! no!" They all shout and I am immediately pushed back down on the couch.

"Nonni likes to work alone in the kitchen," Tomi says.

"You should have seen her running Tomi's cook out earlier today," Vito says and looks nervously over his shoulder toward the kitchen. "I hope you can find another cook, Tomi."

"I'm sure I can, no problem," Tomi says. "I wish you'd told me she was coming."

"She wanted to surprise you," Florio says.

Tomi shakes his head and sighs.

I smile at him and say, "Surprise!"

He laughs. "I'm glad you understand, Annie. This isn't what I had in mind?"

Hmm, I wonder, what did he have in mind? Maybe the old lady wasn't supposed to be here, but the uncles were on the program.

While we've been talking Tony has been staring at me. I keep hearing a sound that appears to be coming from him. It's a moan that's barely audible, but it's there. He looks at me and moans as though in pain.

Tomi sees me looking at his Uncle Tony and says, "Maybe you'd like to see my pets, Annie."

He leads me to the back of the room and a door that's locked. He unlocks the door and leads me into a small room with cages along the walls and several bird cages hanging from the ceiling. A beautiful macaw and a few brightly colored parakeets are in the hanging cages. The macaw says, "Ciao, Baby." I laugh and say, "Ciao." He whistles and says, "Ciao, Baby."

"Is that all he knows?" I ask.

Tomi nods.

A glass case has several large, white, mice scampering around in it. Beside that cage a very large glass cage has a snake in it.

"Is that what I think it is?" I ask.

"Yes, that's Lucy, my reticulated python. Isn't she beautiful?" Tomi proudly asks.

"I have to be honest with you. I'm not a big snake fan. I think their skins make nice belts, but other than that, I'm strictly anti-snake. Don't get me wrong, I think they're pretty," I lie, "but I don't like them. I know they kill pests, but..."

"Snakes are so misunderstood..." Tomi begins.

"I hope I didn't offend you," I say.

"Oh, not at all," Tomi says. "Have you ever held a snake?"

Please don't go there, I think to myself.

"Oh, sure," I say and technically it is true. I was tricked into holding a snake once. I don't think that me, the snake, or Billy Jackson, the fool who tricked me into holding a great big hog-nosed snake, have ever completely recovered, though the black eye I gave Billy did heal after a while.

"She sure is a whopper," I say. "How long is she? Isn't she kind of dangerous?"

"She's very large for a pet, but she's so gentle. Would you like to touch her?"

"No. Definitely not."

Uncle Tony somehow materializes at my side while I've been mesmerized by Lucy who is staring at me through the glass as though I'm a big fat rat.

"I think she likes you," Tomi says.

"Touch the snake," Tony says in a quiet, firm, voice.

"What?" I say.

"Don't say, no to Tony," Tomi whispers in my other ear.

I look at him, frown, and whisper, "What?"

"Whatever you do, don't say no to Uncle Tony," he whispers again, "please?" he implores me.

I look at Tony. His black eyes are boring through me.

"Okay, I'll touch the snake," I say.

"Me, too," Paulie says. He's joined us, but I've been mesmerized by Lucy and missed his entrance.

"Not now, Paulie. Maybe later," Tomi says.

"Yes," Tony says and stares intently at Lucy. "We don't want to upset her." He firmly grasps my elbow and guides me toward Lucy's cage.

Tomi takes the lid off the cage and Lucy's head slowly lifts until it's above the glass. I'm staring eyeball to eyeball with a big assed snake with the angel of death latched onto my elbow. Okay, along with the blonde receptionist and Greta, we'll add Lucy to the list. She's got to go.

"Will she bite?" I ask.

"No, she doesn't bite," Tomi assures me.

Tony is breathing heavily and makes a fist. He squeezes his fingers of his free hand so tightly his knuckles are white. "She doesn't bite, she crushes," he says, his eyes glued on Lucy.

"I'm getting a little freaked out here," I say and smile. "I don't want to hurt anybody's feelings, but I'm really not a snake person."

"Trust me," Tomi says.

"Touch the snake," Tony breathes in my ear.

Once again Tomi whispers in my ear, "Please, whatever you do, don't ever say no to Uncle Tony."

"Okay, here goes," I say and pat Lucy on the head. She's cool and dry. I should be so lucky. A few rounds with Nonni in the kitchen is starting to look pretty good compared to meeting Tomi's pets.

"Now me," Paulie says.

Tomi puts the lid back on Lucy's cage and says, "Maybe later, Paulie. Let's eat!"

"I think I'd like to wash my hand," I say.

Moments later, after scrubbing up, we're at the table. Nonni is scurrying around putting huge plates of food on the table and I'm sitting at the corner of the table. Tomi is at the head of the table and Tony is at the other end.

"I'd like to propose a toast," Tomi says, lifting his wine glass, "to Signorina McCauley and our new line."

I smile. "Thank you," I say and remove Uncle Joe's hand from my knee under the table. "Won't Nonni be joining us?" I ask.

"No, she eats in the kitchen," Florio explains.

At the mention of her name the old lady pokes her head out of the kitchen door and glares at me.

"It's very good," I say and smile at her.

My knee has a visitor again and this time Joe's hand is sliding up my thigh. I have a mouthful of food that I hope will stop my stomach from making noises like a lonely elk, as it sometimes does when I'm hungry. I try to keep smiling and chewing while struggling to get his hand off my leg.

Tony passes a bowl of something to me and says, "Here, try this." He looks at me expectantly.

I take the bowl and say, "What is this?"

"Calamari," Tomi says.

I don't like the looks of whatever it is. "And that is?" I ask.

"Squid," Joe says and smiles at me devilishly.

Tony is glaring at me. Everyone stops and watches, expectantly. Across the table Vito is staring at me with fear in his eyes and mouths the word, please.

While all this is going on Joe quickly runs his hand all the way up my leg and when it reaches my crotch I drop the bowl, jump to my feet, and yell, "NO!"

There's a loud gasp from everyone in the room except Tony who is staring at me with those bottomless black eyes of his. He's holding a large knife. No one in the room is breathing and I realize that they've misinterpreted. I was the only one who knew about Uncle Sex Maniac's hand in my nether regions. They think I was telling Tony, no, which I wouldn't do since I don't want to wind up in the trunk of a car. Marcie's questions about the family finally sink in and I realize which family she was really referring to. It's the family that puts people in car trunks and takes them for the nickel ride to buy cement overshoes - that family.

Tony starts breathing heavily and then his shoulders are heaving. Fire shoots out his eyes, the eyes he has riveted on me. The old lady bolts out of the kitchen and crosses herself, her eyes wide with fear. She's mouthing a prayer and staring at Tony and the knife that gleams in his large hand.

Tears suddenly spring from his eyes and he collapses, burying his face in his serviette.

Tomi glares at me and says, "I asked you not to say no to Uncle Tony!"

The old lady puts her arms around Tony's shoulders and speaks softly and consolingly to her son. He's blubbering like a baby and then Florio loses control and starts crying as well.

"What the hell?" I say and look at Tomi.

"We're a very emotional family. Uncle Tony was jilted by a woman once. He can't stand to have a woman say, no to him. He goes to pieces. He's getting therapy, but it's been a long hard battle," Tomi explains as his eyes begin to fill with tears.

The old lady is talking soothingly to Tony as her eyes shoot daggers at me. Vito and Florio are both bawling like babies. I hear the pet room door burst open behind me.

Nonni points and yells, " Serpente! Serpente!"

At first I think she's calling me a snake, but I turn and see that she's pointing behind me at the pet room door where Paulie staggers out with Lucy wrapped around his neck. From his bugged out eyes and the bluish hue of his face I figure that Lucy has had enough of being a good sport and is going to follow through on Uncle Cry Baby's prediction and crush the living hell out of somebody.

White mice scurry out and race around the floor. Nonni sees the mice and shrieks. She puts her finger between her teeth and seems to be biting herself as she glares at me.

She makes the sign of the cross with her fingers like people in old vampire movies and yells, "Strega! Strega!" as parakeets flutter into the room and a macaw lands on my shoulder and shrieks, "Ciao, Baby. Ciao, Baby!"

"My god! She's killing him!" I yell. "Get her off him, get her off!"

We all jump to our feet and somehow the table is tipped over. Shrieks from birds and grandmothers fill the air and food and sauce flies all over. The macaw's claws dig into my shoulder and he yells, "Ciao, Baby!" Paulie falls down and is writhing on the floor while the men struggle to wrest Lucy from his neck. Though they're pulling with all their might the huge snake has his shoulder in her teeth and is tightly wrapped around his neck.

His eyes are bugging from his head and there's a gurgling sound coming from his gaping mouth. I see the pepper shaker on the floor and pick it up. Shaking a large amount of pepper into my hand, I bend down and blow the pepper up the snake's nostrils. She loosens her grip on Paulie's shoulder and I give her another blast. The old lady is still screaming and tries to push me away yelling "Strega!"

I don't know what a strega is, but I'll bet it ain't good. On the other hand a man's life is at stake and I shove the old bitch aside and blow more pepper up Lucy's nostrils. She finally gives up and the men carry her back to her cage. Paulie is gasping for air on the floor, his head in my lap. Nonni is prostrate on the floor clutching her chest. From somewhere far off I hear the cry of a lonely elk and realize I still haven't had more than a bite to eat and I'm starving.

Tomi kneels beside Nonni and says, "Nonni, Nonni." He holds her wrist and says to me, "I think she's dead."

"Try holding a mirror under her nose," I say, "but first hand me my purse."

He hands me my purse which is covered with spaghetti sauce and I dial 9-1-1. As I dial I hear Nonni making some noises so I know she's alive and realize I have mixed feelings about that. Maybe it's just because I'm so damned hungry, but why the hell does life always have to be so complicated? Do other people go through this to get the job of their dreams?

Florio, Vito, and Joe hold the old lady's hands and fan her and talk to her. She's still lying down, but she has come around enough to be talking in a weak voice. Florio and Vito start gathering up mice and birds while I stroke Paulie's head and talk to him. He's very shaken and unable to talk in more than a whisper. Each brother stops by to talk to him and pat his arm or offer words of encouragement. It's all very touching.

Paulie gets on his feet when the EMTs arrive. They strap Nonni on a stretcher with wheels and she's off to the elevator with her sons at her side. As he walks out the door Tomi looks back and says, "Can you bring Paulie to the hospital?"

"Sure, of course," I say. "I'll meet you there."

The EMTs tell me which hospital to go to so I take Paulie by the hand and we start to leave, but then he holds back. What now? I think.

He leads me by the hand back to the pet room.

"Paulie, you understand that you can't let them out again, don't you?" I ask.

He nods his head, but his eyes are fastened on Lucy who is back in her cage looking as benign as ever. She's taking a nap. No doubt she's exhausted from her little workout.

Paulie counts the mice and smiles. "All present and accounted for?" I ask.

He smiles. I take his hand and we leave, heading for the hospital.

At the ER I see Tomi waiting at the door. He takes Paulie to the nurse and fills out the forms while I sit with Florio and Joe. I make it a point to sit to Florio's left and Joe is on his right. Vito isn't in sight. Tomi and Paulie join us and sit with us while Paulie is waiting for a doctor to check him out.

Tomi sighs and says, "Well, the good news is that Nonni is stable now. She's talking a little." Florio starts to silently weep. Joe pats his back. "Apparently she's been having chest pains and shortness of breath for a while, but didn't tell anyone. She said she didn't want us to worry because we've got enough to worry about right now."

Vito joins us and says, "Nonni wants to see you."

I'm looking at a nurse who's walking toward us and smiling. "We're ready for Paul now," she says.

Florio stands and says, "I'll go with him." Paulie and Florio follow the nurse.

"Nonni wants to see you," Vito says again and when I look up at him I realize he's talking to me.

"Oh, at a time like this I don't think I should be visiting her," I say.

"It's okay. She's in intensive care, but she insists on seeing you and the nurses thought she was getting too upset so they're okaying it even though you're not immediate family."

Tomi squeezes my hand and smiles. "I'll go with you," he says.

Walking to the elevator with Tomi beside me I have a weird feeling. I feel that we're connected now. How the hell can we be a couple? After Nonni gets done with whatever she's got cooked up I'll probably be toast as far as the family is concerned. With my luck she'll drop dead cursing my name. As the elevator door opens I think to myself, all I wanted was a job. Tomi waits for me to step out. He smiles down at me and holds my arm.

Well, I think, maybe I wanted a little more than a job.

Nonni is elevated in bed with a clear tube for oxygen under her nose. There's a machine beside the bed that I guess monitors her heart and other things. There are lighted lines on it and I'm watching them as they flow up and down. I'm hoping like hell none of them goes flat while I'm in the room. There are wires and an I-V tube attached to her. Her long gray hair is spread out on the pillow like a starburst. Her skin is gray and her dark eyes seem sunken into her face. She looks much smaller in the hospital bed than she did just an hour ago when she was pointing at me as if I was the Ghost of Hamlet. I expect her to rise up and point at me and start calling me Italian names, but instead, she smiles and holds out her hand.

That really throws me. I hesitate, but then reach out and we hold hands. She may have just had a heart event, as they call them, but her grip is just one notch below Lucy's. She draws me closer and smiles up at me. In a quiet voice she says, "You know, at first I didn't like you."

I feel like saying, "No shirt Shitlock," but instead I shrug and smile. What the hell else can I do? What do you say to an old woman who is in intensive care when she says she didn't like you?

There's a twinkle in her eye. "I gave you a pretty rough time, huh?"

I nod. "I just want a job."

She nods at Tomi and says, "He usually doesn't bring his work home, so I know there's something special and then I get worried. He's big, strong, and handsome, no?"

I nod and smile. When I smile her smile grows bigger.

"I thought so," she says. "I didn't want to like you. I'm protective of my men. You understand?"

"Yes, I do."

"Tomi's father is a businessman. My Florio is a sports nut. All the time he's watching football, soccer you call it here. Vito is a numbers man. He keeps track of the money and is reliable. Tony is my sensitive one. Joe... well you know about Joe."

Again I nod, but I'm not smiling.

"I know, I know," she says and pats my hand.

"But my Paulie," she says and a tear comes to her eye. "He'll always be my baby. The others are smart, but up here," she says and points to her head, "Paulie is just plain."

"He's sweet," I say.

She beams at me and says, "Yes, he's the sweetest one. But like a little boy, not like a man. When I saw you save his life I realized why Tomi brought this one home. You're a model?"

"Yes," I say.

"I thought so." She looks me over a little and says, "Too skinny."

"Nonni," Tomi begins, but she holds a hand up.

"It's okay, Tomi. It's not an insult to call a young woman too skinny. Nowadays they all want to be too skinny. When they get a little older they find out a man wants to feel something when he holds a woman and a few extra pounds is a good thing, but for now, it's okay," she says and looks at me. "Be skinny." She looks at Tomi and asks, "Why was Signorina McCauley at your home?"

"Florio, Vito, Tony, and Joe wanted to meet her. We're considering her for the job as spokesperson for our company, but they wanted to meet her to make sure she's okay."

Nonni frowns and looks at me. "Why?" she says, suspiciously. "Why did they have to check you out? Usually Tomi makes these decisions."

"There was an incident..." I begin.

"With a man?" she asks.

"No, no... there was no man involved. It was in a revolving door..." I begin to explain.

Nonni coughs and holds up her hand. "You don't have to explain. I like you. You don't panic. You overcame your fear of a snake to help my Paulie. Personally, I hate snakes and wonder why my grandson has to have one in his home, but that's not important. What is important is that I want you to have the job." She looks over my shoulder at Tomi and says, "Did you hear me, Tomi? Signorina McCauley has the job."

"Sure, okay, Nonni."

"Now, I have to rest," she says and releases my hand. "Come and see me soon, Signorina," she says.

"You can call me Annie," I say.

She smiles and her eyes close. "You can call me Nonni."

And just like that, I'm the spokeswoman for Di Ponti.

# Chapter 9

As we walk to the elevator Tomi takes my hand in his. I'm not sure what I should make of it. It's an emotional time, that's for sure. Is this support, a closeness due to the circumstances, or is there something more? Is it romance? Bonding? It feels fantastic and I'm in no hurry for it to end. But when we reach the first floor and make our way in silence back to the ER, we meet his uncles. Paulie is smiling and watching television with his brother Florio. It looks like they've found a football game.

Vito is talking on his cell phone and I hear him use the word, Mama. As we approach, he motions to Tomi and says, "Your mother wants to talk to you."

I sit beside Paulie. He smiles and whispers, "I'm okay. Is Mama okay?"

"I hug him and say, "Yes, she's going to be fine. Her heart is tired, that's all."

He smiles and goes back to watching the game.

Tomi and his uncles gather a few yards away and huddle in conversation. Tomi is doing most of the talking and the uncles are glancing at me from time to time. They seem nervous. Finally they stop talking and they all turn to look at me. Joe is leering, but the others are just looking at me, speculatively I think is the word that best describes how they're looking at me. Then Tomi walks to me and takes me by the hand. "Congratulations, it's official. You're the woman who will launch our new Czarina line. You are the Czarina."

I can't help myself and start grinning like an idiot, a very happy idiot. They each hug me, even Paulie who doesn't understand what is happening, but never seems to miss an opportunity to hug. "I imagine you're very tired," Joe says. "I'll take you home."

Tomi smiles and takes me by the hand, "There's no need for you to do that," he says. "I'll take her home, Uncle Joe. You must be tired from the travelling and everything that's happened. Go to your hotel and rest. Tomorrow we'll have a meeting."

Tomi and I are soon in a cab. He's still holding my hand. We ride in silence for a few moments and then I say, "I think I should explain why I didn't want to stay with you that first time we met at your farm."

"You don't have to explain anything," he says.

"I want to. I want to make things clear."

"I understand," he says. "You didn't want to sleep with me to get the job. I respect that, though I have to say that sleeping with me wouldn't have made you more or less likely to become the Czarina. It will be strictly a business relationship, I promise you that." This from the man who is holding my hand and whose body is driving me nuts.

I want to tell him I don't want to confuse things... that I would have slept with him. In fact, I'm thinking of how much I want to get to know him and be with him. This could really go somewhere, but he just closed the door on that. If he respects me for not sleeping with him and now wants it to be strictly business, what should I do? Why is my boss who wants it to be business-like still holding my hand? As if he's reading my mind he suddenly let's go of my hand.

While the cab waits, Tomi walks me to my door. He gives me a hug and says, "Congratulations, again. Let's make it for two in the afternoon to give me some time to start setting things up as well as giving the uncles some time to rest. Thanks for all your help tonight with my crazy family. You handled them all very well, Annie."

I'm hoping he'll kiss me, but true to his word, other than the hug, it's strictly business. I smile and say, "I'll see you at two, then."

The mailman leaves the mail in the hall on the first floor and the super takes it upon himself to deliver each person's mail. There's a small pile of magazines in front of my door. What the? I wonder as I scoop them up and carry them in. There are magazines for hunters and motorcyclists as well as a magazine for retired folks. I'm trying to figure out how they wound up in front of my door. I check the address and there's my name so it's no mistake, they were sent to me. When did I order a muscle builder's magazine? I ask myself as I thumb through the pages and check out the bodies.

There's a knock at my door and I let Luis in. "Well?" he asks. "How did it go? Is that spaghetti sauce?" he asks and looks at my soiled dress. "Are those bread crumbs in your hair?"

"It's a long story," I say. "How was your night?"

"It was good," he says and forces a smile. From the looks of his red eyes I figure that Ricky was his usual rotten self and it was anything but good. I let it go, though, for now.

"Since when are you interested in science and fixing cars?" Luis asks as he scans my magazines. He picks up the muscle building magazine and starts idly thumbing through it.

According to all the chick flicks this is where me and my best friend are supposed to pull quart containers of ice cream out of the freezer and start pounding down one of the most fattening foods on the planet. It's comfort food and supposedly when women are huddled together nursing their wounds and discussing men and relationships they eat massive amounts of ice cream. Then they keep their beautiful figures. In the real world, it doesn't work that way. I'm a model and I'm already having problems with my weight at twenty one years of age.

On the other hand, I'm still hungry and despite the fact that I have a four course Italian dinner smeared all over my clothes and in my hair, I haven't put enough food inside me to keep one of those white mice alive, not to mention a healthy gal with an active lifestyle.

"I'm going to have some yogurt and maybe a few chips," I say. "Want to join me?"

"Got anything to drink?" Luis asks.

"Yes, it's in the cabinet, help yourself."

We sit on my couch and I down some yogurt while Luis sips his rum and coke, the only liquor I have in the house. I usually don't even have that. He's still looking through the body building magazine. Apparently he's gotten to a centerfold because he spreads the magazine wide and holds it sideways.

"How is it?" I ask.

"Interesting," he says. "Do you think these guys are really as strong as they look? This Neanderthal looks like he could flip a jeep over."

"I don't know," I say. "I think it'd be cool to have a guy like that around if someone is bothering you."

Luis looks at me over the top of the magazine. "Has someone been bothering you?" he asks.

"While we were sitting at dinner tonight Tomi's uncle slipped his hand all the way up my leg to my panties."

Luis gasps and smiles, "The devil!" he says and laughs.

"Maybe it's funny to you, but it wasn't to me. I hate men like that."

"Do you feel violated?" Luis asks.

"No, do you?" I ask.

"No," he says and pushes his lower lip out in a pout.

"That must mean that you and Ricky had another fight and he went home early," I say.

Luis nods. "What did you do?" he asks.

"What any self respecting woman would do," I answer. "I threw the calamari down and jumped up and screamed, No!"

"A wise move," Luis says. "Who in their right mind would eat a squid?"

"It wasn't the squid I objected to so much as the perverted octopus uncle. He was all hands. Unfortunately, Uncle Tony flipped out at that point because he thought I was saying no to him..."

"What the hell did he want?" Luis asks and giggles.

"He wanted me to eat the calamari."

"What a kinky bunch."

"Tomi described them as emotional," I explain. "Unfortunately, it was at the very moment that Paulie came out of the pet room with Lucy wrapped around his neck."

"Oooh, it's starting to sound like an orgy," Luis says. "Who is Lucy and why was she wrapped around Paulie?"

"Lucy is a reticulated python."

"You're kidding! Kinky, but I like it." Luis laughs.

"Then mice or rats came running out and Nonni flipped out. A bird landed on my shoulder and said, Ciao, Baby! and parakeets were flying all around the room. Paulie staggered a few steps and collapsed in a heap. The men were trying to take the snake off his neck because she was killing him and I think Nonni called me a witch in Italian."

"And the food?"

"The table went flying when we all jumped up, well except me, I was already up because Giussepe's hand was in my crotch. Food went everywhere and I guess I got some on me."

"Did Lucy kill Paulie?" Luis asks.

"No. I blew some pepper up her nose and she gave up. The men wrestled her off Paulie, but then we realized that Nonni had a heart attack."

Luis gasps again.

"Apparently when I shoved her out of the way she keeled over. She didn't die. At first she didn't like me, but apparently when I shoved her out of the way and blew pepper up the snake's nose she took a shine to me and now we're pals. In fact, she made Tomi give me the job. You're looking at the Czarina."

"I thought they're Italian?" Luis says.

"They are, but for some reason they're going with a Russian motif for their latest creations. Jewelry, clothes, scents, and makeup are all going to be included in the Czarina collection. At two o'clock I'm meeting him and his uncles and we're going to get started."

"Well, congratulations! At least we're both royalty now." Luis says. "You're a czarina and I'm a queen. I hope you won't forget the common people when you become a star."

"It's not all good," I say.

"What the hell?" Luis says. "You get to be the czarina and you tell me it isn't all good? What could possibly be the problem with that?"

"It's Tomi. We talked about the first meeting when he invited me to spend the night. He told me he knew why I refused and he respects me for it... see, I told you it was the right thing to do..."

"If it was the right thing to do, why are you complaining?" Luis asks and frowns.

"Because now that we're going to be working together and Tomi is technically my boss he thinks we should keep it strictly professional and there should be nothing between us."

"That sucks, but maybe he'll change his mind when you're working in close quarters, so to speak," Luis says. "Come on, Annie, you can make him change his mind about that."

"Yes, maybe I can, but then won't he think I'm a slut? It's complicated when you work with someone, Luis. I'm not about to cross that boundary if that's the way Tomi wants it. It's one of my rules, Luis. He has to make the first move."

"You and your rules, Annie. Well, as they say, the course of true love is never smooth."

"Speaking of the course of true love," I say, "how was your night?"

"Don't ask," Luis says and sighs. "When will I learn?"

We fill up on yogurt and chips and spend hours talking about our plans and finally I get to bed just before dawn.

--------

Dawn came and went without me, but I was coming back to life by the time almost noon came around. With a few hours to get ready and get myself over to The Di Ponti Building, the scene of some of my greatest ups and downs, I was in a little bit of a rush, but not too rushed to savor the day and the prospect of seeing my number one fan, Greta. How should I handle it? Should I be kind and rise above the petty differences we had in the past?

Or should I buy a lorgnette and laud it over her looking through it at her like she's a specimen on a microscope slide? Since I don't know where to buy a lorgnette I decided to just ignore the bitch. Forgive and forget, that's one of my rules.

So I spend a while fussing over what to wear and take a long shower to wash away the craziness of the night and then I'm on my way to my meeting with destiny. Luis isn't around so I actually get to put my own makeup on. Don't get me wrong, I love him dearly, but sometimes he can drive me nuts with his mother hen routine.

As I make my way to Tomi's office I keep an eye out for my pal Cheryl. I still don't know if she works in the building or just drops in to use the ladies room, but something tells me she does work there. Back in the good old days when Cheryl and I were sharing adjoining stalls who would have thought that one day we'd be working on the same team? I stand outside the office door and smooth my dress, a sleek black number that I thought would look businesslike, but still show off my charms enough to remind them of why they hired me. Then I march in.

The busty blonde is behind her receptionist desk. This time, I'm a little calmer and get more of a chance to check her out completely. Hmmm, chipped nails and slightly smudged mascara. Someone's been worrying lately, perhaps even crying on her break. I'll bet there's a man behind it. Though she has a magnificent bust I see that she's also a few pounds overweight and trying to fit into a dress that probably fit her like a glove six months ago, but now is starting to show a little too much padding around her waist. She's putting on weight and unhappy.

Maybe I was a little hasty. Maybe she can stay, but Greta, whom I'm about to meet, is definitely going. Wait a minute, how am I going to pull that off if Tomi is off limits? I know, and suddenly it dawns on me as I'm standing there and the door to Greta's cage opens, I could someday be the CEO. Why didn't I think of it before? I grin broadly, square my shoulders, and say, "Hello, Greta, remember me?"

She glares at me over her half glasses. If her mouth was any tighter we'd have to use a crowbar to pry a word out of her.

I feel like saying, "Cat got your tongue?" But I keep it to myself. As I said, forgive and forget the bitch.

Greta leads me into Tomi's office and announces me.

"Miss McCauley," she says without enthusiasm. Instead of leaving, she sits with her notepad in hand.

I wonder if she'll call me the Czarina after this meeting or maybe just, your highness or something?

I sit beside Marcie and across from Tomi. He's looking even more handsome than before. Wearing a tailored silk suit that fits him like skin, I can almost see those muscles rippling beneath the silk. I swear his neck is as big as my waist. He's smiling and shaking hands. He seems to be in his element, schmoozing, I guess you'd call it, though why a CEO has to schmooze is beyond me. He clears his throat and all the chatter stops and all eyes are on him. He is clearly the boss.

"First of all," he begins, "I'd like to thank you all for your hard work to get us to where we are now. We're ready to launch our new line, but it's more than just a new line, we want to create a whole new look and a fantasy for our customers. Like all good fantasies it will have a great story line. I came up with the idea of a czarina in exile. A gorgeous young woman on her own."

When he says that he looks directly at me and I begin to melt into the leather chair.

"I didn't do it all alone, however, and I had a lot of help from our creative department. As you may or may not know, we do a lot of our own advertising and publicity from in-house. We're going to look at the story boards and get a feel for the project and then we'll break off into our individual departments and get to work on the next legs. At that time our very own czarina will be meeting with me and our lawyers to work out the details. She will be assisted by her agent, Miz Marcie Tate."

There's a little light applause and Marcie smiles and nods toward Tomi.

"And of course," he continues, "that leads us to the lady herself, our own Czarina, Miz Annie McCauley." As he says it he makes a sweeping gesture with his hand and there's a round of more enthusiastic applause. Despite myself, I blush and grin like a twenty one year old woman who was just handed the world on a silver platter. I stand and turn to each one and give a little bow. When I sit back down, Marcie whispers into my ear, "Enjoy the moment, Annie, life doesn't get much better than this."

# Chapter 10

"I'm famished," I say to Luis when I walk into his apartment. We seem to spend a lot more time in his apartment than in mine, probably because mine is a horror show and also Luis is the motherly type so it just feels right to hang out in his kitchen.

"How did the meeting go?" he asks.

"Great, you're now looking at the new spokesmodel for Di Ponti Limited's latest product line and campaign. You may call me, Czarina."

Luis bows and says, "Well, congratulations! Are we celebrating? How long did it last? What are the perks? When do you start?"

"Easy, down boy, first things first," I say.

Luis hands me a goblet of wine and I continue. "The meeting lasted six hours. I get a brand new car and an expense account!"

Luis and I are dancing around the kitchen and holding each other and jumping up and down.

"I'm so jealous. Look at you. You've made the big time, Annie!"

"I'm going to shoot commercials and of course, photo shoots and I'm going on tour. I'll make public appearances at upscale stores and salons, too. I get a wardrobe you wouldn't believe and my very own personal makeup artist."

"You're kidding me," Luis says.

There's an uncomfortable silence and we stand, still hugging each other. Luis smiles and says, "Well, good for you."

"Oh, Luis, you're so transparent."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks.

"I can see that you would love to have that job," I say.

"Well, of course I would, Annie. It's the chance of a lifetime. Do you know who it is?" he asks.

I take a sip of my wine and sit on the couch.

"Well?" he asks.

"Well what?" I say.

"Who did they hire for the makeup artist?"

I smile coyly. "Tomi asked me if there was anything I wanted while we were negotiating. He's such a sweetheart, isn't he?"

"Yes, yes, he's a sweetheart. Now tell me who they hired? Tell me it isn't that bitch Vicky Vaughn."

I sip my wine and pick lint off my sleeve.

"Why won't you tell me who they hired?" Luis demands.

"Oh, Luis, for heaven's sake. I just told you Tomi asked me if there was anything I wanted. Didn't you get the call yet?"

Luis's face lights up like the Christmas tree on the White House lawn.

"You didn't!" he says.

"Of course I did, you silly," I say and smile. "You think I'm not going to put in a good word for my B-F-F?"

Then he's on the couch hugging me and crying and getting way too maudlin for my taste. "For god's sake, Luis, wait until you're drunk to act that disgusting," I say.

"I can't help it, Annie" he sobs. "You're the best friend I've ever had."

He blows his nose in a lace hanky he produces from his pocket and sits there grinning at me with red eyes. "I must look terrible," he finally says.

"You do," I say. "Not only that, I'm up to my neck in no wine and I'm starving."

"Well, we can rectify that," he says.

"By the way," I say nonchalantly. "Do you know anything about luxury sport cars? I chose the Porsche over the Beamer, but I'm having second thoughts. I have to pick it up tomorrow."

"Porsches are nice," he says as he works on his face in the adjoining bathroom.

Luis's phone rings and he holds up his hands with crossed fingers as he rushes to answer it. "Yes... Yes... Yes..." he says into the phone.

When he finishes I ask, "Well?"

He does a little pirouette and says, "YES! The agency is talking to them right now and it looks like I'm in. I'll be under exclusive contract for a year! Oh, god, no more dodging the landlord every month. No more floating checks. No more clipping coupons and living on noodles for days at the end of the month."

Again we're dancing in the kitchen and hugging each other.

"Annie this is big time!" Luis shouts.

"Luis, this is serious big time!" I shout back.

"Big time serious!" we shout together as we jump up and down like kids.

"Okay, just give me a few more minutes," he says as he tries to catch his breath.

"Sure," I say. "I'll just call my mama and daddy real quick to give them the good news." That, of course, is a mistake, since I'm so hungry, and I'm on my second glass of wine on an empty stomach.

"Mama," I say.

"Annie, is that you?" Mama asks.

"Yes, Mama, It's me. Are you sitting down? I've got some news for you."

"Annie whatever it is, it probably isn't as bad as it seems," Mama says. "And just you remember, you can come home any time. If you don't have the money I'll send you bus fare. You know when you went off to the city I told your father..."

I move the phone away from my ear and take a very long sip. I handled that badly and I know it, but now she's started and I may as well make myself comfortable. I can hear her going on and on. I move the phone closer to my ear and she's talking about my cousin Amanda and a truck driver from Oklahoma. I hear my father asking questions in the background. Then, he picks up on the extension in the bedroom. They still have a landline and princess phones.

"Annie."

"Daddy, it's not bad news," I say.

"Annie, you didn't let me finish," Mama says.

"For god's sake, Anne, let Annie tell us what's going on before you jump to conclusions. Maybe he's a nice guy," my Daddy says.

"There is no guy!" I shout. Luis pokes his head out of the bathroom. I roll my eyes at him. "Well, there is a guy, but this isn't about the guy," I try to explain.

"Is he a truck driver?" Daddy asks. "You heard about Amanda didn't you?"

"We can be there in a couple of days," Mama says. "We've always wanted to visit the big city and your cousin Tommy lives in Rhode Island. Isn't Rhode Island very close to where you are?"

"No, Mama. Rhode Island is hundreds of miles away..."

"I think the best way is to go East on Route Ten and then take Route Ninety Five right up the coast. Ask your boyfriend," Daddy says.

"Ask him what?" I ask.

"He ought to know the best route if he's a truck driver," Daddy says.

"Does he have to spend nights away from home?" Mama asks.

"Will you both please just stop for a minute and let me talk and explain?" I ask. Before they can answer I start explaining. "First of all, I'm calling to tell you about my new job. Secondly, I don't have a boyfriend."

Luis sits beside me and says, "Tell them about the car."

"Who is that?" Mama asks suspiciously. "I thought you said you don't have a boyfriend."

"I don't. That was my friend, Luis. We're going out to celebrate because I got a very good job today."

"Who are you working for?" Daddy asks.

"I'm the new spokesmodel for Di Ponti," I say proudly.

"What do they make?" Daddy asks.

"What does a spokesmodel do?" Mama asks. "Ray, don't you know anything?" Mama says. "They're a makeup and jewelry company."

"Well, how the hell was I supposed to know that?" Daddy says.

"I put the phone against my chest and say to Luis, "Now they're arguing between themselves."

Luis fills my empty glass. "I really shouldn't," I say and take a huge gulp.

Putting the phone back to my ear I hear Mama say, "Of course she doesn't have to take her clothes off. It's a cosmetic company You ever see any ads for cosmetics with naked women?"

"I just wanted to make sure," Daddy says. "Who are you working for there, Annie?" Daddy asks as if I'll mention the name of someone he knows. If Daddy met the pope he'd ask him who he was working for.

"Tomi Di Ponti, Daddy. His family owns the company."

"Is he married?" Mama asks.

I cringe. "No, Mama. He isn't married." I know I should tell her he's gay.

"Is he an eye-talian?" Daddy asks.

The thought of these two people ever meeting Tomi Di Ponti makes me nauseous. What was I thinking, fantasizing about me and Tomi? As soon as he met my parents he'd run away screaming and I'd never see him again.

"Did I ever tell you about my best friend when I was in the service, Annie?" Daddy asks. "He was an eye-talian guy named Joe Vitale... heck of a nice guy..."

"Ray, this is no time for your old war stories," Mama says. "Annie called to tell us about her job."

"Well, Mama, I guess I have told you about my job. It pays six figures and I get an expense account and my own car."

"What kind of car is it?" Daddy asks.

"A Porsche, Daddy."

"Oh, Jeez," Daddy, a Chevy man, says. "Those things are in the shop all the time and they cost a fortune to fix."

"I don't have to pay for it, Daddy. It's included in the job. I get a wardrobe and a makeup artist, too."

"A what?" Daddy asks.

"She said a makeup artist," Mama says.

"I heard what she said, Anne. I just don't like the sounds of it. What the hell does he do? Is he an expert on hugging and kissing and making out?"

"For heaven's sake, Ray, that's a make out artist!" Mama says.

I put the phone in my lap and look at Luis. I tie an imaginary rope into a noose with my hands then slip it around my neck and pull it up tight making a grotesque face and sticking my tongue out. Luis starts to crack up. Then I stick my thumb up and point my index finger out to make a gun. I load an imaginary bullet into the gun. I put my finger against the side of my head and pull the trigger and flop my head over. Luis is hysterical and I can hear my Mama in the background saying, "She said you're working together."

"Who said we're working together, Mama?" I ask putting the phone to my ear.

"Well, Brittany Carstairs, of course. Haven't you been listening to me, Annie?"

"Sorry, Mama, I was distracted, I guess. When did you talk to Brit?"

"I haven't talked to Brittany. I've been talking to Evelyn Carstairs," Mama explains.

"Really? You and Evelyn are talking to each other again?" I ask. This is incredible news since the problem that I had with Brittany spilled over into our parent's lives and the last I knew my father hated the Carstairs and Mama, though she forgave them in her best Christian way, would have gladly brought the matches if the rest of the trailer park decided to burn Evelyn Carstairs at the stake.

"She's found her path," Mama says.

"Oh, my god! You mean to tell me that Evelyn Carstairs is going to the Path Evangelical Church with you, Mama?" I ask.

"I certainly do. It's never too late for a person to find their path and give their life to Jesus, you know? I wish you wouldn't use the Lord's name in vain."

"I know, Mama, but Evelyn Carstairs?"

"Anyone can find their path, Annie."

"I know, Mama," I say, even though I don't. "But Evelyn was the biggest drunk and floozie in Mesa View."

"That's all behind her now," Mama says and adds, "In fact we're going to prayer meeting together tonight. She's walking in the door as we speak of her..." Mama says, hello and I hear Evelyn in the background.

I quickly explain to Luis, "Mama goes to the Path Evangelical Church which gives Daddy a break to watch the Cowboys or Rangers play every Sunday. Now Brittany's mama has gotten religion.

Luis gasps.

"Are you still there, Annie?" Mama says.

"Yes, Mama, I'm here," I say.

"Good. Evie wants to talk to you."

And just like that, I'm on the phone with Brittany's mama, formerly the biggest slut in Texas and now one of Jesus' little lambs.

"Annie? Is that you?"

"Yes it is, Missus Carstairs... is it still Carstairs?" I ask.

"It's Chambers now, Annie, but you don't have to call me Missus Chambers. You can call me, Evie like everyone else does. How are you?"

It feels weird to call her Evie and it also feels weird talking to her.

"I'm good. I just got a new job."

"Oh, that's nice. Brit has been telling me about how the two of you sometimes work together and how nice it is to have a friend in the city," she says.

Where the hell is this coming from? I wonder. Apparently Brit has been spinning some yarns.

"You know, Annie, it hasn't been easy for Brit. I wasn't always a good..." she sobs.

I am now finishing my third goblet of wine and my stomach is making like an elk. Luis's head is resting on my shoulder and I'm feeling really strange. All I want to do is hang up.

"Well don't worry," I say cheerfully. "I'm sure she'll be fine," I say.

"Will you promise to look out for her?" Evie asks me.

"Sure," I say.

"Good. That's so sweet of you, Annie. I knew I could depend on you. You know, sometimes Brittany can be kind of wild and do things."

"Don't worry about a thing," I say. The room is spinning a little.

"Is there any way you could possibly help her? Could you possibly get her a job? I worry that she's broke and so far away and I can't do anything to help her, but pray. You know, Annie, I pray for you girls every night before I go to sleep."

"Well, don't worry. We worked together the other day and everything is fine. We've buried the hatchet, you know, let bygones be bygones and stuff."

"Can you get her in where you are?"

"You mean a job?"

"Yes, dear, it would mean so much to me," she says and she's sobbing.

Before I know it, the words are out of my mouth, "Sure, I can get her a job," I say and instantly slap my own forehead. Ouch!

Luis's head pops up and he looks at me in horror.

"Okay, I know you'll keep your word to me. You know how mothers worry, don't you Annie?" she asks.

"Yes, I do," I say and sigh.

"I'm handing the phone back to Anne," she says and she's gone.

"Annie, we have to get going," Mama says. "Your father has a service call to make and Evie and I have to get to prayer meeting. I'm happy about your job. I just hope it works out. Remember, you can always come home."

"I know, Mama," I say and swear to myself I'll never, ever, call them again when I've been drinking wine, though the alternative of calling them when I'm completely sober is horrifying. I think I'm up to rule number sixty five or is it fifty five? I think I need to start writing these rules down.

When I get off the phone I say to Luis, "Well the good news is that Brit's mama has found her path."

"Her what?" Luis asks.

"Her path. It's what the Path Evangelical Church calls it when a lost sinner finds his or her way back to the church."

"Oh," Luis says. "What's the bad news?"

"I promised her that I'd help Brit find a job at Di Ponti."

"But you weren't serious, were you?" Luis asks.

"Luis, when I give my word, I keep it. It's one of my rules."

Luis rolls his eyes and says, "You're really going to help Brittany get a job at Di Ponti?"

"Yes. We did agree that the trouble between us is over now, Luis. I think it will be alright. Maybe she and I can be friends like we used to be."

"How many glasses of wine have you had?" Luis asks.

"Too many. I really need to eat, Luis and please don't look at me like that. I am not crazy."

"Annie, let's get going. I'm sure you'll think better of that idea in the morning when you aren't half sloshed."

Luis stands and pulls me to my feet. "Come on, girl. What's it going to be? Acme or The NoMad? Or maybe you feel like some Italian at Il Buco Alimentari e Vineria?"

"The food is definitely good there, Luis, but if you don't mind, I've had enough Italian for a while," I say and we're out the door.

# Chapter 11

Luis and I went to Acme, but it was so crowded we thought we'd never get in and the rumbling of my stomach might have offended some of the other diners even though the place offers forager food. If you think about it, wouldn't foragers have stomachs that rumbled? Anyway, it was just too busy so we went to the NoMad. After a few carafes of wine and a meal we wound up at a club until the wee hours. Not exactly the smartest move I ever made. Morning punched in at the usual time, but I wasn't ready for it.

Luis and I made it to the Di Ponti building, but we must have looked like something the dog was keeping under the porch. I spent the morning learning what was expected of me, or so I thought. I had a surprise coming when Tomi took me to lunch, which he did.

"There's a quiet place around the corner," he says to me as we leave the building.

He leads me to a faded wooden door wedged between two storefronts. We walk into a long hallway that is really just an alley with a roof. He leads the way, holding my hand and yes, for your information I am all goose pimples.

A waiter in a flannel shirt meets us and leads us to a table in the corner after making sure that Tomi wants his usual table. I wonder how many women he has led in the same way and guided to his usual table. Do I look like the usual type of woman? Probably.

"I hope you're getting all the support you need," he says. We're sitting across from each other at a table that's so tiny our knees keep bumping.

"I am," I say and smile. I've been smiling like an idiot since I got the job. I just can't believe it happened. Here I am, little Rayanne McCauley from Mesa View sitting in New York City with the most handsome man on the planet, the CEO of the company that chose me as their spokesperson. What next? I should buy a lottery ticket, I think to myself. Nah, what's the point? This is better than hitting the lottery.

"Are you all right?" Tomi asks.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Guess I just kind of drifted off there," I say. "I'm just still in a daze and stunned. It seems like a dream, a dream that came true."

Tomi laughs. How can I describe it? His laugh is like honey tumbling over golden rocks. No, that's not right. His laugh is like..."

"Are you okay, Annie?" he asks and reaches for my hand.

"I'm okay," I say. "I'm just having trouble believing it's all happening. I saw my car today. You know, you could have given me any kind of car. It didn't have to cost that much."

He chuckles and it sounds like honey dripping off of chocolate. No that's not it.

"Annie, you're in the world of high fashion. As you know, image is everything. We're creating a fantasy for our customers. The Czarina can't ride around in... in a..." he searches for the right word, "a Chevy." He shrugs dismissively.

I was afraid he was going to say that.

"You're the Czarina, Royalty. You must exude class, grace, style..." This from the man who recently saw me with a toilet seat stuck to my ass trapped in a revolving door. As Daddy would say, Only in America, land of second and third chances.

"I wanted to take you to lunch to get to know you. It seems the few times we've had a chance something has happened to keep us from getting to know each other, Annie."

I love it when he says my name. That Euro whatever accent sends chills up my spine. His hand is warm and firm. He squeezes it now and then for emphasis, but I don't think he realizes he does it. You know about those dark delicious brown eyes. He unbuttoned his jacket when we sat down and I could see his pecs ripple under his shirt. The scent of his cologne, something with bergamot, is filling my head. Ask yourself this, how often do you get to go out with a guy who smells so good and probably invented his own cologne?

"Tell me about yourself," he says.

Where should I begin? No two people on the planet could be any farther apart or different. I come from a trailer park, excuse me, mobile home park, in a small town in West Texas. I went to a public school and graduated from a small high school with a bronco as a mascot. Until recently I thought a demitasse was a young woman who hadn't made her debut and still don't know which fork to use if you give me more than two. You know about Mama and Daddy. What I've got, you're looking at.

"There really isn't much to tell. Truth be known, I'm just a small town girl from a hole in the wall like millions of women in America. Waking up one morning and finding out that I'm a Czarina would be my fantasy, just like it would be any one of their fantasies, too."

"And that's why you're the perfect woman," Tomi says and smiles warmly. "Annie, I don't know you personally, but I'm a good judge of people. I know what you are and what you come from and I like it. You're the perfect woman for this role because you're feeling exactly what I want the millions of women, all over the world to feel. When they look at you, they see themselves."

I suddenly realize this man is not only handsome, but brilliant. I just hadn't thought of it before. I'm grinning again.

"What?" he asks. "What is it?" He squeezes my hand and puts his other hand over it as he leans forward over the table.

Our faces almost touching, I can feel the heat from his body and smell his breath, minty of course. "I don't want to insult you," I say.

"It's okay, speak your mind."

"Well, it's just that I never realized how smart you are."

"So you see, I'm more than just a pretty face," he says and laughs again.

When our faces were close I noticed little lines at the corners of his eyes, the beginning of crow's feet. I realize then that I have no idea of how old Tomi is, thirty, perhaps?

We have had a drink to start our meal and then the food arrives--salads all around. After the food is cleared away he has my hand in his again. I've never been with a man who held hands so much. Is this an Italian thing?

"Sisters or brothers?" he asks.

"No, I'm an only child," I say.

"So am I. See, we have something in common."

"Did you grow up in Italy?" I ask.

"Yes and no. I went to school in Switzerland, but I spent a lot of time in Italy, too. My parents also brought me to the States quite often. They wanted me to be well-rounded. They worked very hard to build their business."

"You're proud of them, aren't you?" I ask.

He beams and nods. "And your parents, tell me about them," he says.

"They did their best for me. They were good parents... are good parents," I say. Where do I begin? Should I tell him about Mama winning the blue ribbon for her crocheted toilet paper holder at the county fair? Maybe I should explain about Daddy and his eye-talian best friend. Nope. Love them as I do, I'm not sure Tomi would understand.

When I don't offer more information Tomi prompts me, "Well, what about your father? What does he do for a living?"

"He's in oil," I say.

"Really? Domestic or foreign?" Tomi asks.

"Repair," I say. What the hell, the fairy tale had to end some time, I may as well get it out there and then I won't have to worry about it any longer. "You wanted the All-American girl," I say. "Well, you got her sitting right here in front of you. My father is an oil burner repair man. Mama works in a convenience store running the cash register."

Tomi smiles and says, "They're working people just like my parents."

"Huh?" I ask. "Your parents built a big company..."

"But they started with a hair salon. They cut and styled people's hair for years. Then they made their own brand of hair care products. When I was twenty one they let me in on the business. They'd just started to expand. Then, I had to take over. In ten years I've managed to expand very fast and built this brand, but too fast, I'm afraid."

"You mean the company is in trouble?" I ask. His face has fallen. No longer beaming at me and no longer dynamic, he sits with his shoulders very stiff. He finally lets go of my hand and sits back. He looks down. I can tell there's something he wants to say.

"I've had to be Tomi, the smart one. I've had to figure things out. My uncles invested in the business, but they all started out with very little. They own a lot of stock in the business, but their original contribution was small. They were what they call, angel investors. But though I love them very much, I have to admit none of them could run this business. It's up to me and frankly Annie, truth be known, I haven't done so well. Mistakes were made."

I feel so badly for him. I want to take Tomi in my arms and hold him and tell him everything will be alright. Unfortunately, I don't know if it will. As terrible as the news is, I'm finally seeing the real Tomi Di Ponti, no Greek God, just a man. He loves his family and wants to take care of them. I feel myself slipping deeper. No wait, what about my job and career? Things are getting more complicated by the second.

"Can't your mother or father help?" I ask.

"Nonni's husband, my grandfather, died years ago. I used to visit them in the summer and help him in his garden. He grew the best tomatoes," he says and smiles at me. "My own father is very sick now. It's his heart. He can't take much more. I've been afraid to tell him what's happening. My mother has enough to worry about. They call and ask me how things are and I lie and tell them how good things are, but they're not good. The company has plenty of assets, but the interest on loans is killing us. That's why this new line, the Czarina collection, has to do well." He takes my hand and looks into my eyes, imploring me, "We can do this, Annie, I know we can."

"Could you lose your whole company?" I ask.

"When things got tight I could have cut overhead by laying people off, but I just couldn't do it to them. We manufacture everything here in the United States. This country has been very good to my family, to me. How could I outsource work overseas? I don't know, some might see it as being weak. The Board of Directors are hard-nosed business men and women.

"There's a stockholders meeting very soon. I have to report on the health of the business. If they think I'm weak they may decide I'm not the man for the job. If the board decides to appoint another CEO they could pull it off. Also, there are rumors that one of my competitors, Lyle Stevens, may try to take over the company. He might buy our debt or try to get enough shares to force me out and become the next CEO.

I guiltily remember I have used Lyle Stevens' cosmetics in the past, in fact, one of their eyeliners is my favorite.

"So, to answer your question, Annie, yes, I could lose it all. We'd still have some shares, but I'd lose control of the company my parents worked so hard to build. I can't let that happen. It would kill my father. Still think I'm brilliant?"

It's my turn. I reach across the table and hold his hand in mine. I give it a squeeze and say, "Don't worry. We'll do it. I do think I'm the right person to pull it off because as you say, I'm the woman millions of other women can identify with."

"Tell me what you need?" he asks.

"Well, now that you mention it, there is one thing I'd like to ask of you," I say.

"Anything," he says.

"Do you remember the woman who came into your office that day I missed the meeting - the redhead?"

"Yes, I do. How could I forget, she's very beautiful."

I didn't need to hear that, but I continue anyway. A promise is a promise even one made to Evie Chambers.

"I'd like her to have the job as my maid or lady in waiting or whatever it is supposed to be."

Tomi looks at me, turns his head a little and asks, "Really?"

"I know she may have seemed kind of disingenuous, but she and I actually grew up together."

"So, she really is your friend?" Tomi asks.

"Well, kind of, it's a long story. Anyway, I know that the story line is that I'm just a regular woman who wakes up one day and finds out she's a Czarina and I have a personal servant who travels around the world with me."

"Yes, that's it. We want any woman to feel that she could wake up one morning and find out that she's one of the most beautiful, exotic, richest women in the world, though she's living in exile," Tomi agrees.

"What could be more amazing than waking up and finding out that you're not only beautiful, but you're so rich and important that a beautiful woman is your servant?"

Tomi nods. "I see. She'll be in many of the ads and shoots with you. We did have someone else in mind, but if you want her, you've got her, but I got the impression that the two of you weren't on very good terms. Are you sure this will work, Annie?"

"It will work," I say. "We've worked things out and we can work together."

"Okay, but please remember, Annie, everything is riding on this. We've got to get it right and we don't have much time. We launch and then it's the holiday season. If we do well we can pull the company out of the tail spin it's in, but if not, well, you get the picture. The board will vote against me or Lyle Stevens will buy out our debt or get enough shares to take it away from me."

"Don't worry, Tomi," I say.

After so much has been said we just sit there in silence for a moment drinking. Then it's time to go back to work. An hour ago I was walking on air, but now I feel like I have a ton on my shoulders. I had no idea how complicated it would be. I also have no idea of what to do. Once again, like the time we were walking to the elevator in the hospital, I get the feeling that Tomi and I are linked together somehow. It's such a strange feeling that I can't describe.

Walking down the sidewalk, surrounded by tall buildings and crowds of people, I feel completely isolated from them. We could be walking through a forest among tall trees or a canyon in the desert. I'm aware of my own body and his body and all else are just props in our story... wait a minute, Annie, better get a grip. It was lunch and he's the boss, remember rule number twenty seven, don't sleep with the boss, it sends the wrong message. I am not a slut. I will not sleep my way to the top. Our hands brush and my body reacts in spite of the rules and the common sense that tells me to get my mind on business. If you really want him, help him save the family business.

Speaking of family, maybe it's time to visit Nonni. I really like the old girl.

# Chapter 12

"What do you want to do tonight?" Luis asks me.

We've gone to visit my car and we're sitting in it in the garage. Luis is behind the wheel wearing wraparound sunglasses and some driving gloves he bought for the occasion.

"I think I'd like to visit Nonni," I say. "What?" I ask. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Isn't she the woman who called you a witch?"

"Yes, but later she was very sweet and she even gave me the job. Would you like to meet her?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Luis says. "Wait a minute, where is she staying? Is she still in the hospital?"

"No. She's at Tomi's house. Now what?"

"What do you mean?" Luis says.

"That look, Luis."

Luis laughs and says, "Come on, Annie, this is Luis you're talking to. You want to visit Nonni who just happens to be staying at Tomi's house?"

"I mean it, Luis. I really do want to see her, but I wouldn't mind seeing Tomi, too, just to make sure he's okay."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Luis asks.

"Tomi took me to lunch today, Luis and told me some things about himself and the company."

"Such as?"

"I'm not sure I should talk about these things," I say. "They were told to me in confidence and they're really important as far as the company's success is concerned. They also mean a lot to Tomi and his family."

"Well, I understand that," Luis says, "But you know I'll never repeat them to anyone and besides, as a new employee of the company don't I have a right to know what's going on? I want to help, but how can I help if I don't know what the situation is? By the way, you're biting your lip and nervously twitching so I can tell you want to tell me."

"I am not nervously twitching," I say. "I have an itch."

"Where?"

"My back," I say and lean forward. "In the middle, between my shoulder blades... no a little lower and to the right. Ah, that's it!"

"Did that help?" Luis asks.

"Yes, thanks. Now, about the company, I guess you have a right to know the state of affairs."

"There's an affair? Ooh, girl, spill."

"No there's no affair. You know what I mean. The company is in bad shape and it's partly Tomi's fault. He overextended then refused to lay people off or outsource jobs overseas so now he appears weak and incapable to run the company. Apparently, in the world of big business, at the first scent of blood the wolves pounce."

"So, what is he going to do and how does that concern you?"

"He thinks that if this campaign is a success and we sell a lot of cosmetics and jewelry from the new line it will save his ass. That puts it squarely on me the way I see it."

"Oh, Annie. You're such a good person. Naive, but good. Count me in, too. I'll help you any way I can, but they are going to keep paying us, right?"

"Of course and Brittany, too."

"Do we have to talk about that red haired witch?" Luis asks and crosses himself.

"Since when did you get religion?" I ask.

"For your information, Miss Smartypants, I come from a very religious Catholic family," he says.

"How is that working out for ya'?" I ask.

"How do you think?"

"Must have been rough being that blonde and trying to fit in with all those Catholics," I say and wink. I'm impressed that he mentioned his family.

"I was a total disappointment to them in many ways," he says and sighs.

"Mind talking about it?" I ask.

"What's to tell? I'm afraid of horses and I'm gay."

"Okay, I get the gay part, but where do horses fit in?" I ask.

"I come from a long line of horsemen and when I say horsemen, I mean incredible men who can train and ride horses. Many of my relatives are jockeys, in fact, my uncle, Guillermo is a famous jockey here in New York."

"Are you kidding me?" I ask. "Guillermo Caballista is your uncle?"

"Yes, he is."

"Why didn't you ever mention it before? Why don't we go to the horse races and make some money?"

"Do you really think my macho uncle wants me showing up at the track? Sorry, Annie, I'm not going to the track."

"But, Luis, all the time you and I have been struggling financially you were sitting on a gold mine."

"What the hell are you talking about," he indignantly asks.

"Luis, jockeys have inside information. He could give us tips."

"You've got to be kidding me, Annie. Have you ever bet on a horse race in your life?"

"Well, no, but my father took me to the track a few times when I was a kid and he used to bet on them."

"You really think that you and I could figure out how to bet on horses and make a killing at the track?" Luis asks and rolls his eyes.

"It's worth a shot, Luis and now that we have money we can afford to lose some trying."

"I am not going to contact my uncle and ask him for tips," Luis says. "It's one of my rules."

"Rules? You've got rules now?" I ask.

"Well, if you can have them, I can have them," he says.

"How many rules have you got so far?" I ask.

"Just two," he says.

"And?"

"Never wear polyester."

"And?" I ask and raise an eyebrow.

"Never ask my uncle for a tip."

"They really wanted you to be a jockey?" I ask.

"Yup, in fact, when I was a kid my uncles had a little jockey suit made for me that I used to play in. It was very colorful. Silks, I believe they call them, though between you and me, I think it was polyester."

The picture in my mind of Luis as a little kid running around in a jockey costume is one I don't think I'll easily forget.

"How afraid of horses are you?" I ask.

"I'm so afraid of horses that if Tomi had scooped me up and thrown me in the saddle with him, I would have fainted," he says.

Now I have a picture of Luis in jockey silks flopped over the saddle in front of Tomi. Not a pretty sight despite, as Luis put it, the colorful costume.

"We should go if we're going to visit the abuela from hell," Luis says.

"I wish you wouldn't call her that, Luis. She's a sweet old lady when you get to know her."

"As long as she doesn't have a few pots in her hands to throw at us," Luis says. "I can't wait to meet her."

"Okay," I say, "But Luis, the glasses and gloves have to go. I don't want you getting beat up on the subway again."

I lock the car and we're off to the subway. Luis looks back longingly over his shoulder. "Let me get this straight," he says, "we just got out of a Porsche to ride the subway?"

"That about sums it up, Cowboy," I say and slap him on the back. "Welcome to New York."

Minutes later we're sitting on the subway and Luis says, "I don't like the way that guy is looking at us."

He usually doesn't even pay attention anymore since he gets so many funny looks in the course of a typical day. I scan the crowd and then I spot him--a little guy with a black fedora and a black trench coat. As our eyes meet he quickly looks down.

"Probably just some creep," I say.

"Considering how warm it is and what he's wearing, I'd say he's a perv," Luis says.

"Yup, probably nothing under that trench coat, but a little..."

"Here's our stop," Luis says and stands.

I look back as we leave the car.

"Is he back there?" Luis asks.

"Yup."

"Maybe he caught your act on Youtube," Luis says. "I hear they even mentioned you in the entertainment news show that night, Revolving Door Woman."

"Very funny, Luis." I look back and the little guy is gone.

When we get to Tomi's Nonni opens the door. "The men are out," she explains.

I feel a wave of disappointment.

"This is my friend, Luis," I say to Nonni. She's wearing a black dress that is elegant in its simplicity and has her hair in a braid wrapped up and held with an ebony clasp studded with pearls. A single strand of pearls hangs around her neck. She smiles and leads us to the living room where we sit. I'm struck by how different she is from the howling witch I met when first I sat on that couch. A twinkle in her eye tells me she understands.

"Luis, you look familiar," she says.

"Do you watch Youtube?" he asks. I dig my elbow into his ribs, but it's too late, the feline is out of the Gucci.

"Yes, I do, sometimes," she says, "ahh, that's right, you were with the Revolving Door Woman," she says and chuckles.

"I can explain," I say and blush like a virgin on prom night.

This is the point where Nonni is supposed to say, No need to explain, Dear, and then we have tea and a few biscotti or maybe a wandi. Instead she sits waiting patiently while seconds tick away and I try to melt into the couch. Whose idea was it to visit Nonni?

"There's this woman, Brittany, who hates me," I begin. "She found out I was supposed to meet Tomi to discuss the job as spokesperson..." I'm finally at a loss for words. How do you delicately explain that your ass was glued to a toilet seat?

"The video wasn't very clear," Nonni says. "What was that you had on your..."

"Tush," I suggest.

She smiles and says, "Ass."

Okay, that does it. If this seemingly refined matriarch of an old world family can say ass I guess I can just spit it out, even the bit about the toilet.

"Brittany put Super Glue on the toilet seat in the ladies room of the Di Ponti building," I blurt out and instantly feel like I'm squealing in third grade.

Nonni erupts in laughter and so does Luis. The two of them are sitting there having a good belly laugh and it makes me crack up, too.

"You had a toilet seat stuck to your ass?" Nonni asks.

"That's right."

"I'll give you credit, Annie," she says. "You have guts to show your face in public after that. Most young women would leave town, never to be seen again."

"Well as we say in Texas, I ain't no quitter."

A maid brings tea and serves us.

"Did Tomi ever get his cook back?" I ask.

"Yes, he managed to smooth things over and explain that his Nonni is just a crazy old lady," she says. "The truth is, Annie and Luis, life is boring for me now and I have to have my fun. When my Tomi was alive, that's Tomi's grandfather," she explains, "life was exciting. When he died it broke my heart, literally. That's what's wrong, now. Too much excitement and it goes crazy like a fish flopping around in here," she says and points at her chest.

"Does that mean that Tomi is actually the third?" I ask.

"Yes, his father was named after my husband and your Tomi is named after his father, my son."

Whoa! I think to myself, did she just say what I think she said? I sit in shock staring at her.

Again she gives me the warm, grandmotherly smile. "Why is it that love is sometimes such a big mystery to the very people who are experiencing it?"

"She's in denial," Luis chimes in and casually sips his tea.

"It's just a business relationship." I say.

They look at each other knowingly and smile. Luis and Nonni are now confederates?

"As you may have guessed by now, Annie, life is embarrassing. People will use that against you, but you're strong. Life is too short to be taken so seriously, don't you agree, Luis?" she asks.

"Oh, definitely," Luis says. "I mean just take a look at me. Could anyone like me take it so seriously?"

"You both deserve a good man," this Catholic lady says to the gay man and his friend. Congratulations, Nonni, you just won the free thinker award for the day.

"What really happened is that a feud started between Brit and me a long time ago," I explain.

Nonni waves her hand and nods knowingly. "Don't tell me about feuds," she says. "In Italy we have feuds that last for centuries. This very family has been at war with the Rigatoni family for a long time. They're nasty little people."

"You mean they're petty and narrow minded?" I ask.

"No, I mean they're short, but very nasty and very dangerous," Nonni says. She looks nervously around the room as if there may be a Rigatoni hiding behind a piece of furniture and whispers, "The black hand."

"They don't wash their hands?" Luis asks and frowns.

"They have hygiene issues?" I ask.

"No, the black hand, the illegal society that kidnaps and extorts money and if you don't pay they kill you or blow up your store," she whispers and crosses herself. "They're an old gang of corrupt men. But it's been years since they did anything. Fortunately, it seems the Rigatoni have finally learned their lessons and quit bothering us. Now men rob in board rooms and on Wall Street. They steal more with a pen than the Rigatoni could steal with all their guns and stilettos."

"Then you know?" I ask.

"Yes, I know about the problems with the company. Annie, Tomi is a good man and so serious. He wants to be the new man of the family, you know, like his father before him. My other sons never understand business like Tomi Junior and now his son."

"I think everything will be okay in the end," I say.

"I hope so," Nonni says. "Maybe when the two of you quit trying to walk around the issue and get together you'll be able to work on this as more of a team - as a couple," she says and beams at me.

"Oh, Nonni, you're a matchmaker," Luis says.

Again she chuckles and says, "What do you think, Luis? Are they right for each other?"

"Well, they did just meet," he begins.

"Exactly!" I say. "We just met. It's too early to say what will be. Tomi is a handsome man, but he and I both have our careers to think about." Again I'm blushing. I haven't blushed this much since I was stuck in that damned door.

Nonni takes my tea cup in her two hands and looks at the leaves at the bottom. "Hmmm, very interesting," she says.

"You read tea leaves!" Luis says with delight.

What next? I wonder.

Nonni's smile fades and she slowly puts the cup down. What now? I wonder.

"Annie, be very careful," she says.

"What did you see?" Luis gasps.

"I'm just a foolish old woman," Nonni says.

We sit in silence for a moment and then Luis says, "I guess we should be going now, Annie."

Nonni, no longer the dynamic woman who met us at the door and dispensed wisdom like a soothsayer, is now sitting slumped against the cushions, her face ashen. "Yes," she says. "I'm feeling a little tired."

At the door she hugs me tightly and says, "Take care of yourself, Annie."

She hugs Luis and says, "Luis, don't leave her side."

She slips something small, round, and flat into my hand as we walk out the door. What's this, a coin or subway token? I ask myself as we step onto the elevator, but when I look in my opened hand I find a Saint Christopher medal.

"Luis," I say.

"Yes, Annie."

"Remind me to have coffee the next time I go visiting."

Luis shrugs and says, "Sheesh, what was that all about?"

As we leave the building I'm still a little shaken and thinking about what just happened. What hell did the old woman think she saw in my tea leaves? What can people see in tea leaves? When I look in a cup I see tea leaves and a very bad reflection of myself. She threw me for a loop the first time we met. Is she just a drama queen trying to liven things up?

All these questions are going through my head and I'm idly looking around when a small, dark, figure darts around a corner across the street. Could that have been...? "Luis, did you see that?" I ask.

"See what?" Luis says and we stop on the sidewalk.

I point across the street. "I could have sworn I saw him again," I say. "Never mind, I think Nonni got to me."

# Chapter 13

The sheets are cool against my hot body as I lie on my back. The sunlight filtered through the blinds makes a pattern on the bed and with the light behind him Tomi's face is obscure, but there's no mistaking that tall, wide-shouldered physique. He slips his shirt off and unbuckles his belt. I see a dark silhouette framed by golden light.

My body is pulsating. A hot wave washes over me. He's finally mine and we've stopped walking around it as Nonni would say. A scented candle fills the air with the perfume of flowers. Tomi has also spread rose petals on the bed. He has to be the most romantic man in the world.

I have a slight itch on my stomach and try to scratch, but my hand won't move. Has he tied me to the bed? I really can't move my hands and my legs feel like lead. I want him so badly, but not this way, not the first time. He moves toward me slowly as though gliding across the room and then he's standing over me. I smile. I know he loves me and I love him. I'll simply ask him to untie me. I've changed my mind, my love, I think. I don't want to do it this way.

I need my arms around you... to feel your wonderfully strong back and your power on top of me to feel your weight pushing down... holding me... Oh, Tomi, I try to say, but I can't speak! He's drugged me. Why?

Panic rises within me and chokes me. Am I gagged? Everything is fuzzy, not right! The more I struggle the worse it gets the panic has taken over I need to move to breathe! Help, no, Tomi, NO! There's a buzzing in my head and it's getting louder... Nonni's voice in my ear, Be careful, Annie. Did the old woman drug me?

The buzzing is getting worse, insistent like a... like a... like an alarm clock? Ohhh, I groan and as the mist clears, I roll over and switch it off. I wasn't drugged. It was sleep paralysis and it wasn't Tomi.

A half hour later, Luis and I are on our way to the shoot.

"Annie, you're a mess," Luis says.

"I didn't sleep good last night and then I had a horrible dream this morning," I explain.

"You have to shake it off. Today is the day of the launch. There are going to be cameras and you're the Czarina. You have to be perfect. This is live so you can't make any mistakes and it will be on the entertainment news all over the world."

"Way to go, best friend," I say. "Don't put any pressure on me. First I have that old lady scaring the hell out of me and then my best friend reminds me that the whole Di Ponti company is resting on my shoulders, not to mention that I'm seeing strange men wherever I look."

"What?" Luis asks.

"I thought I saw that guy in the black fedora when we left the subway," I say.

Luis looks over his shoulder as we walk briskly along. "I don't see anybody."

I look over my shoulder and there's a huge crowd behind us, but I know what he means. The creepy guy isn't there, probably never was. He and everything else I've been worried about are probably about as real as that dream I had this morning. It's probably just jitters because I've never done anything this big or important in my life. I thought I would love this. It's what I've dreamed of, but now that the day is here I'm a nervous wreck. My stomach growls and I remember I haven't eaten. There will be food there when I'm being made up.

When we finally arrive at the staging area I can't believe what I see. Tomi and Brit are standing together. He has his hand on her shoulder and she has her hand on his arm as they huddle together looking at a paper he holds in his other hand. They look up and smile simultaneously.

Luis whispers in my ear, "The hell with the rules, Annie. You better go for it or someone will beat you to him."

"Annie, there you are," Tomi says and smiles.

Luis goes to prepare his makeup stand and Tomi gives me a hug. Looking over his shoulder I see Brit watching us. Without thinking I give him a peck on the cheek. We begin to part, but then he holds me and looks into my eyes for a moment, searching for what?

Then she's standing beside us and holding the paper out to me.

"Tomi was just going over our routine for today, Annie," she says. "This is it."

I take the sheet and read. The routine or script is two pieces of paper and nothing could be simpler. A voice over artist will narrate the story of how a simple girl awoke one morning to find herself a Czarina living in exile. With no friends or family the beautiful young woman must make a life in a new place. She has jewels and a beautiful wardrobe, but can she find love?

She enters the Di Ponti building where she is transformed from a simple woman into the most beautiful woman in the world. I come back out and find a peasant girl in rags whom I take as my maid and we get in a carriage which is then driven to Central Park where I have a table laid out for me with caviar and champagne.

As I read I notice her breast is almost touching his arm, or is it actually rubbing against his forearm? I'm so distracted I have to read it twice.

Tomi seems to be oblivious, or is he? I can't help but remember there is only one boy she didn't steal from me. I could be a carpenter's wife and have two kids by now, but instead I'm in the big city where I'm watching my life and dreams slowly unravel because I was an idiot and promised that conniving Evie Chambers that I'd get her good for nothing, man stealing daughter a job. We're back where we started from. Am I a moron?

"Annie, thanks again for this chance," Brittany says when we're alone. She smiles sweetly.

"Sure, no problem," I say, "just remember that the job is all I'm giving you. Tomi's mine. So butt out."

She frowns and says, "What?"

"I said, butt out. Tomi is mine," I say. "I saw him first."

Again she smiles sweetly and that really throws me. "Sure, no problem," she says.

When I'm in the chair and Luis is working on me he says, "She never quits, does she?"

"I don't know, Luis," I say, uncertainly. "Maybe she really is ready to stop this bullshit and just let it all go."

"Are you crazy?" he hisses. "Didn't you see her standing there with Tomi?"

"They were just going over the script, Luis."

"Script my foot! Okay, Annie, have it your way. Brittany is nice and there's nothing to worry about."

"Well, maybe there isn't, Luis," I say. "She really does seem nice now. I've got too much on my mind today and I'm under too much pressure to worry about her and Tomi. Please don't mention it again."

"Okay, have it your way," Luis says and shrugs his shoulders. "Just don't say that I didn't warn you."

"Let's talk about the weather," I say.

"Okay, let's talk about it. Looks like the rain might hold off and that's good because rain could ruin the whole show, Annie."

"I know. There are puddles in front of the building, but that's no big deal," I say.

I glance across the room and into the eyes of Tomi. He's been watching me. He smiles and I smile back. His smile is a knowing smile. We've shared something and there's something between us. I feel it and I know he does, too. Why was I worried about Brittany? Go ahead and touch his arm, Brittany. Rub yourself on him. This one is mine. All mine. You're no match for the Czarina. Someday I'll be his grandchildren's nonni.

"You know," Luis says, "this would be easier if you'd sit still. What the hell are you grinning at?"

"Never mind, Luis," I say.

A half hour later we're ready to start. Tomi and the director, Sam, are talking with me and Brit. She has a peasant outfit on that shows off her nice cleavage and is slit up the side. Her hair is wild and her makeup is sparse. She really does look like a wild Russian peasant--a beautiful one at that.

I'm supposed to walk down the sidewalk and stop in front of the Di Ponti building. I stare at myself in the window and then I walk in. Wistful is the word that Sam uses to describe how I should look. I'm exploring, hesitant, longing. Sure, why not?

Then they'll make me up and I'll go out the door dressed as the Czarina in a long Prussian blue gown and lots of ice from the Di Ponti collection. The carriage will be waiting and my Russian peasant/servant will be kneeling beside the carriage. Then I'll graciously beckon to the peasant girl who will get in the carriage with me and we ride off. Later, we'll shoot another scene driving through the wooded area in Central Park.

This shoot is a big deal and the street is blocked off in front of the building. A crowd of on-lookers stand behind a barrier manned by security guards and a few cops. The sidewalk will have a few extras on it who will stop and stare in wonder at the mysterious Czarina as she walks out of the building. I'm supposed to do a little twirl on the sidewalk as I look at my beautiful gown and am amazed at the transformation and the magical events in my life. This isn't hard to do since it really does feel like a magical day.

I take my place at the barrier while the director checks light with his assistant director. Another assistant is standing at the barrier with me, waiting to give me my cue to start walking down the sidewalk.

Sam yells, "Quiet on the set!" He waits but there are people talking offstage and too much noise to suit him.

"Quiet, people," the assistant yells.

Finally it's quiet enough except for the usual city noises in the distance beyond the barriers.

"Action!"

The assistant is counting beats slowly, "One... two... three..."

She gives me a nod and I start strolling down the sidewalk as though I have nowhere to go and all day to get there. There's a camera on a dolly that is diagonally off to my left and a camera mounted behind where Sam is standing off camera down the sidewalk. Another camera on a boom follows from behind for an angle from above.

I stop in front of the Di Ponti building and stare into the window. Miraculously, none of the cameras or crew show in the windows. There I am looking at myself and the buildings across the wide street are in the background. As I look at myself in the window something catches in my throat and my heart skips. My god, I think. Annie McCauley from Mesa View. You've come a long way, girl. I try to stop myself from grinning like an idiot. I doubt it looks wistful to the director.

It doesn't. We do three more takes before Sam is satisfied. I've done it enough by then so that I don't grin like an idiot or look like Luis's cat after the unfortunate incident with the parakeet, Buddy.

I'm back at staging, getting the gown on, and being congratulated by various members of the crew as if I just won a Nobel Prize. I know it sounds easy, but to get exactly the right look, even for something as simple as a commercial with a voice over as the only dialogue, is harder than it looks.

Brit comes by and gives me a hug. She's in her peasant costume with her boobs almost hanging out. "Annie," she says. "That was great."

"Thanks, Brit," I say and smile.

Tomi gives me a hug while Brit beams at us. "You're doing great, Annie," he says.

But as he says it, I notice his eyes dart to Brit's tits. What the hell! a voice in my head says, he is a man. Yeah, I argue, but I want him to be my man. Then I realize that he's still talking to me and I've missed what he's said. "What?"

"I said," he says, "you really do look exactly the way I pictured our czarina."

And how did you picture her tits? A voice says in my head. I smile at Tomi while another voice says, This is no time for that.

"Ready, Annie?" the assistant director calls.

"Break a leg," Brit says and smiles. "Go Broncos!" she cheers and raises her hand.

Tomi smiles warmly and walks away with Brittany. I glance at them as they step behind a trailer. Did she just put her hand on his arm?

"We're ready," the assistant calls again.

"I'm coming," I say and glance over my shoulder one final time.

I go back inside the building and wait with an assistant for my cue.

Remember, Annie, I tell myself, twirl and amazed. Yeah, amazed at how stupid some men can be... there's no time for that, everybody is just happy. You're still the star, the czarina. Czarina my foot! Remember Cinderella? Put a pair of glass slippers on that conniving redhead and...

The assistant nods and I stroll out the door. There's the carriage with the driver and the white horses. The carriage is an open carriage like they use in Central Park. The driver has a top hat and red coat. Unfortunately, Brittany isn't kneeling beside the door of the carriage.

"Cut!" Sam yells. "Where the hell is the peasant girl?"

That's what I'd like to know. Where is she and with whom and while we're at it, what is she doing with him? If this bitch screws this up I swear I'll...

Brittany runs out of the building and says, "Sorry..." She rushes to the carriage and kneels at the door beside the step.

"These horses can't stand here forever," the driver says as one of the horses nervously twitches. "Let me walk them around a little and start over."

"Okay," Sam says, "back to one."

I go back inside and again wait for a cue. The assistant gets the word and nods to me after a few minutes.

I walk out and the carriage is there along with the ravishing peasant girl. Whose bright idea was it to have such a gorgeous woman to upstage the Czarina? So Tomi is a boob man, huh? Annie, for god's sake get yourself under control. You're making a mountain out of a mole hill. Yeah two double D mountains to be exact...

I twirl and look amazed, I am amazed - amazed at what an idiot I am. I make it a rule right then and there to never ever help Brittany again.

She smiles and looks adoringly at me as I walk to the carriage. While kneeling at the step she's also holding the door open. The carriage shifts a little as the horses fidget.

I look down and smile kindly at her. I'm supposed to feel sorry for her and take her with me in the carriage... the bitch.

I put my foot on the step and look down at her and pause. The director wants me to hold it for three beats. I'd like to beat her with a buggy whip, I think to myself while smiling sweetly.

A loud noise like a car backfiring breaks the spell and suddenly I'm thrown off balance as the horses jump. The driver is yelling, trying to control them. As they bolt away the step is jerked out from under my foot and I fall forward. My forehead goes into Brittany's face and there is the terrible sound like a pumpkin being squashed as my forehead mashes her nose in a perfect head butt.

I'm dazed and reel back as my gown catches on the step. There's a loud ripping sound as I spin and feel the gown being ripped off me. I'm on spike heels and, as I may have mentioned, I'm not a dancer. While I'm spinning buildings, cameras, and images of horrified faces flash by. I lose my balance and go down in the street where the carriage once stood. I cringe as my ass hits, but instead of rock hard pavement I land in something soft and warm with a plop!

I'm left sitting on something squishy with nothing but my thong, garter and stockings. One high heel is gone. I reach beneath myself to see what I landed on. When I pull my hand from beneath my butt I find it filled with fresh, warm, fragrant, horse shit. Without thinking I instinctively shake my hand to get the shit off it and then watch the shit as it flies through the air and hits Brittany in the face. We sit in stunned silence.

I'm half naked and Brittany's face is bloodied and stained with shit. I gasp. Her look of astonishment starts to give way to realization.

"Brit," I say, "I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to..."

"You rotten bitch!" she screams. She struggles to her feet and pounces on me. I try to push her off and my hand, still smeared with shit, goes across her face and some gets in her mouth. She gags and pauses for a minute and then people are pulling her off, but not before she gets a good handful of my hair. As they drag her across the sidewalk I'm being dragged, too until I finally pry her hand open. I see her being helped and restrained at the same time.

Tomi stands between us. The way his jaw is hanging open I can tell that he's flabbergasted, for lack of a better word. His head keeps going back and forth as he looks at Brittany and then me unable to decide what to do next.

I angrily shout, "Well, go ahead, go to her!" Tears begin to stream down my face. Brittany is being helped to the staging area and Tomi follows her. Luis is at my side and pats me on the back.

"Come on, Annie. Let's get you cleaned up," he says.

Tomi comes stomping back, his chest heaving and his face vermillion. He says between gritted teeth, "In my office... ten minutes!" Then he's gone.

If there was ever any doubt about Greta buying a lifetime membership in my fan club the issue is put to rest ten minutes later when she hisses at me, "I knew you were trouble the first time I saw you. What you did to that poor girl is unforgivable. Do you realize what you've done? You've made a laughing stock of this company and destroyed the launch of our line. Those were news cameras out there, you know?" then she looks at the door to the inner office where Tomi is waiting for me. "Do you realize what you've done to him?" she asks.

I march past her and into Tomi's office. "I can explain," I say before he can speak. "I know it looks bad, but..."

Tomi jumps up from his chair and says, "Sit down!" He points at the chair in front of his desk .

I sit.

He turns his back to me and looks out the window behind him at the skyline of the city. His shoulders move in rhythm to his breathing and I realize he's seething.

"I," I begin.

He glares over his shoulder and I melt into the chair.

He finally turns and says. "It's my fault."

"Oh, really, you shouldn't blame yourself. It was that damned backfire that scared the horses." I say.

"I've been listening to your crazy explanations and wild stories instead of just facing the truth."

"Wait," I say, "you don't think I did that on purpose, do you?"

"You and Brittany are a couple of psychos having some kind of a war between yourselves."

"I'm telling you, it was an accident. But as for being psychos, I tried to warn you. She's dangerous, evil!"

"And that's why you asked me to hire her? That's why you gave me that sob story about her and told me everything would be okay? NO! Signorina McCauley, I'm not buying anymore of your lies. The truth of the matter is you wanted to get her in front of a crowd of people so you could humiliate her. But what did I ever do to you? Why humiliate and ruin me? That's what I don't understand."

"It's a long story. Her mother was a drunk, but now she's found her path. She and my mother are friends. They go to the same church."

"Don't bring the church into this!" Tomi shouts. "Isn't anything sacred to you? Is everything just a big joke?"

"Can't we shoot it again?"

"Are you insane? The entertainment news was out there. The paparazzi were out there. People were filming with their cameras. This was meant to be a news event. We weren't just filming a commercial. This will be on the news and all over the internet. You've ruined the Czarina line. Now it's a joke." He finally sits down in his chair, runs his hand through his hair, and sighs. "I'm ruined. It's over. You're fired, contract or no contract, you're fired. In fact, I should sue you. Annie," he says in a quiet, pained, voice, "why did you do this to me?"

I see Tomi and the room as a blur through tear filled eyes as tears begin to stream down my cheeks. "It was an accident."

"You were looking for an excuse, Annie. I saw you head butt her. Then, you threw manure in her face. That was no accident."

My phone is vibrating and ringing. I look down and see that Marcie is trying to get in touch with me while the light is blinking telling me I have new text messages. I'll bet I do!

He pushes a button on the intercom and Greta springs through the door.

"Show this person out," he says and turns his back on me.

Greta is actually smirking and says, "Let's go." The receptionist tries to hide a smile as I walk past her. Et tu, Blondie?

Luis is waiting in the hall. He hugs me and we start to walk in silence toward the elevators. "What happened?" he finally asks.

"I got fired. He doesn't believe me."

"What doesn't he believe?" Luis asks.

"He doesn't believe that I didn't head butt Brit on purpose. He doesn't believe there was a loud noise and the horses bolted just as it happened. I should have slept with him when I had the chance," I say. "Then maybe he'd trust me."

As we walk out on the sidewalk I see the camera crew is packing up. The party is over. Did my foot really slip or did I just use it as an excuse? I wonder. "Of course it slipped," I say out loud.

"What?" Luis asks.

"Nothing... I'm a good person, Luis," I say.

"I know you are, Annie. Things just seem to happen to you."

"Don't they?" I say. "Well, there's one good thing. I don't see how anything worse can happen today."

When we turn the corner and we're confronted by little men in black fedoras and trench coats. They block our path so we stop. They have little eyes that are all glaring at us. A black stretch limo is sitting at the curb and one of the nasty little guys is holding the door open. The one with the pencil thin mustache and pockmarked face steps forward and says, "Get in."

"Let me guess, the Rigatoni family?" I say.

"You've got to be kidding," Luis says. "We're surrounded by Rigatonies?"

One of them steps up behind Luis and shoves something against his back.

The spokesman with the mustache says, "This ain't no joke, girly." He motions toward the door of the limo that gapes like a black maw. 

# Chapter 14

We're sandwiched in the back seat. Luis is to my left and to the left of him one of the Rigatoni family. I have a Rigatoni to my right so there's no way we're getting out of either door. As the limo pulls away from the curb, the guy with the mustache and pockmarks sits across from us in a jump seat.

I turn to Luis and say, "Actually, Rigatoni is the plural of Rigatoni."

"Fascinating," Luis says. "I get kidnapped and an Italian lesson in the same day. What's next?"

"Shut up," the leader says.

His eyes are black and he has bad skin. We could all forgive him the black, lizard eyes, but I know Luis is thinking about what he could do with the skin. "What are you looking at?" he says to Luis.

"You know, we could do something about that," Luis says.

Luis! I think to myself, Oh my god! Don't say it.

"About what?" lizard eyes says.

Inside my head I'm screaming, NO! but unfortunately as Luis begins to speak it slips out and I accidently shriek, "NO!" so loud that his words are drowned out. All the little men, and the car is full of them, jump and look at me with their beady eyes wide in shock. Fortunately, it made Luis stop in mid-sentence so no one heard what he was about to say about the guy's skin.

"What the fuck?" the lizard-eyed leader says. He pulls a long thin knife from his coat pocket.

I smile at him and speak out of the corner of my mouth to Luis, "Ixnay on the inskay!"

The shocked looks give way to puzzlement.

"Sorry," I say and smile ingratiatingly at the leader and several of the Rigatoni who are staring at me.

"I was just trying to be helpful," Luis says. He crosses his arms, and sticks his lower lip out in a pout. I know his feelings are hurt, but it's better his feelings are hurt than his body.

The leader waves the knife at us, "No more... okay?" he asks and glares menacingly.

Luis is staring straight ahead the way he does when he's angry and clams up so I know he won't be giving any more cosmetic tips and we might make it to wherever the little creeps are taking us. We leave the downtown Manhattan area and go over several bridges before stopping in an alley behind an old brick building. Trash is flying around and there are palettes stacked by a loading dock. We're taken out of the car and herded through a side door into a large warehouse. It's cavernous and empty except for a few chairs, a table, and a fork lift.

"Sit," the leader says and we sit.

"I'm going to call her," the leader says to a stocky guy. "Keep an eye on them."

The leader walks a few yards away and has a muffled conversation into his phone and then he's back. The stocky guy, who appears to be his right hand man, looks expectantly at him. The leader nods. The knowing look between them makes my stomach do a summersault and I get goose bumps on my arms and the back of my neck. The gang gathers around us and watches us as though we're fish in a tank.

The leader places a chair facing me and sits in it. He looks up at me and frowns. I'm at least four inches above him. I try to slouch down, but he's already looked up at me. "Sunamumbitcha!" he shouts and angrily kicks the chair across the room. He stands towering over me and says, "You like him?" He's looking at Luis.

I nod. "You still like the pagliaccio if I cut off his ears?"

How the hell do you answer a question like that? If I say yes, will he cut Luis's ears off? If I say no, will he cut Luis's ears off? Finally I say, "I like him just the way he is."

The leader snorts and looks disparagingly at Luis.

"Did he just call me a clown?" Luis says indignantly. "I've seen Pagliacci, you know!"

The leader glares at him and nods at number two who puts a knife to Luis's throat.

"Please," I beg. "No."

"Okay, then," the leader says and bends close enough to look me in the eyes. I smell garlic and mint. Where have I seen eyes like that before, I wonder and then I remember, Lucy!

"You want him and we want Tomi Di Ponti on his knees, his business in ruins."

"Why?" I ask.

"That's none of your business, girly," he says. "We're going to keep him with us." He nods at Luis. "If you go to the police, you'll find pieces of him all over the place. You open your drawer..." he actually pantomimes me opening a drawer and looking inside and gasping, "you find his head!" His gang bursts into gales of laughter. "Maybe you open the refrigerator door for a snack..." he acts that out, too and again he fakes a look of shock. "You find his little hands."

"We get the picture," Luis says.

"Good," the leader says. "Whadya' say?" he asks me.

"Okay. Please don't hurt him," I say.

"You go to the cops, he's dead. You keep your mouth shut and you make sure this new thing that Di Ponti is doing doesn't work, like you did today."

"That wasn't my fault," I begin to explain.

He laughs and says, "Of course not. We did that." He makes a gun with his fingers and fires it in the air. "Bang!" he says and laughs. "Those horses ran pretty good."

"So it was you who made the loud noise that scared the horses," I say and gasp.

The leader shrugs and smiles, "A starter pistol. It worked pretty good, didn't it?"

"It was a disaster." I answer.

He shrugs and proudly says, "I know, not bad, if I do say so myself."

His men are nodding and smiling proudly.

"Luis works for Di Ponti," I say and nod at Luis. "Tomi will see that he's missing. It would be better if you let us both go."

"No. He stays and you go," the leader says.

"What should I tell Tomi when he asks where Luis is?"

"You tell him the pagliaccio joined the circus," he says and laughs. "Take her back," he says and like that two of them lead me back to the car. No blindfolds or hoods, they don't care if I know where they took us. One drives while the number two guy sits with me in the back. Instead of taking me to the Di Ponti building they take me to my apartment building. The Number Two holds the door as I get out and while I'm leaving the car he pats my ass. "Remember, girly," he says. "Don't tell nobody. We'll be watching you."

Inside the building I'm confronted by yet another pile of magazines in front of my door. I scoop them up and pile them with the others, now spilling off the small table near the door. I see a smiling Martha Stewart on the cover of one of the magazines. I wonder what she'd think of the clutter in my tiny hall. Never mind the cluttered hall, I say to myself, how would Martha feel about the clutter in your life? I wish I had her organizational skills. I wish I had any organizational skills.

This would be a good time to own a cat or dog to greet me at the door and make me feel loved. Instead, I'm greeted by a stack of magazines. The refrigerator is as empty as a Rigatoni's conscience so I make a quick trip across the street to the deli.

Fifteen minutes later I'm sitting on the couch with a container of potato salad, a half pound of pastrami, and an eclair. My phone starts lighting up and vibrating. At some point I have to talk to Marcie and the rest of the world, but at the moment I prefer to sit, dazed, and without a clue of what I should do.

While I'm sitting on the couch something catches my eye. The stuff on the coffee table has been moved. The magazines Luis and I were looking at are placed differently. The muscle builder magazine is on the floor. I might have carelessly missed the table and dropped it on the floor, but Luis wouldn't have done that and he was the last one who scanned it.

I draw the afghan I keep on the back of the couch around my shoulders and shiver. Someone has been in my apartment. What if they come back? Maybe the Rigatoni mob will decide that I'm worth more to them as a hostage. Or maybe they'll just figure if they get rid of me it will hurt Tomi somehow.

I decide to go into Luis's apartment using the spare key he gave me. We have a key to each other's apartment in case there's ever an emergency. I'd call kidnapping and breaking and entering emergencies. If they come looking for me at my apartment it will be empty. I doubt they'll look in his apartment because they already have him.

I curl up on his couch with my food, what's left of it, that is. There's a video in his dvd player and I hit the play button on the remote. I need to think of what to do and I also need to stop shaking and crying because that isn't going to save Luis, Tomi, the Di Ponti Company, or me. The movie is The Maltese Falcon. I've seen it before, but I've forgotten a lot of it. It doesn't really matter anyway, what I really need is just a distraction. Watching Humphrey Bogart as Sam Spade is a pretty good distraction.

As Humphrey and Peter Lorre banter on the screen I try to figure out what to do about the fact that my best friend is being held as a hostage. My phone has stopped ringing and vibrating meaning people have finally given up trying to get in touch with me. I'll deal with them tomorrow, if there is a tomorrow and the way things are going I wouldn't make a bet on it even with a tip from Luis's uncle. The purple throw that was recently viewed on Youtube by half a million people is back on the couch and I wrap myself in it while I work on the eclair, diet be damned.

Who can I tell? If I tell Tomi he'll probably insist on going to the police. The same is true of Marcie and anyone else I tell. Most people think of going to the cops even though they've been told not to go to the cops. Who else is there? Humphrey Bogart is long gone and so is Sam Spade. Are there any real Sam Spades? I don't know any and don't know how the hell to find one. Who doesn't go to the police when you tell them you have a problem? Should I contact a priest? They can't reveal what you confess to them. I don't think praying is called for here and after the results I got when I was trying to make it to the elevator with a toilet seat stuck to my ass, I think my praying is pretty useless.

Then it hits me. There are guys like Sam Spade. I need a private detective. I could ask Marcie to recommend one. She may even know one. But the problem with Marcie is that she may also call the police, trying to protect me. No, I have to take care of this myself. I look around and find Luis's old phone book. He uses it as a door stop. In the yellow pages there are many detective and investigation companies. How do I know they won't rat me out to the cops?

Then I see it. It isn't a fancy ad with eyes and badges. Just one line reads, Ida Grolsch....Discreet.

Discreet is definitely what I need. Cheap and good are a few other things, but I have already gotten an advance from Di Ponti, probably my first and last check from them, so I do actually have something to pay with, to a point.

It's eleven o'clock at night. I should probably wait until the morning. Do detective agencies answer their phones at night? What if there's an emergency? I decide to give it a try. The number is actually the same exchange as where I am so it must be fairly close in Queens.

A loud, nasal, and somewhat annoying woman's voice answers on the second ring. "Ida Grolsch," she says.

"I think I need a detective."

"Who is speaking?" she asks.

I've just been watching Mary Astor pussy foot around with Humphrey B and I think I have the hang of it. "I'd rather tell you that when I get there," I say.

"Where are you?" she asks.

"I'd rather not say," I answer.

"How can I send someone to pick you up, Miss, if you won't tell me where you are?"

That's a good point, but on the other hand, if I tell her where I am she'll know more than I want her to know until I find out if she'll work with me and not tell the cops about the kidnapping.

"Just tell me where you are and I'll come to you," I say.

She gives me the address and I tell her, "I'll be there in ten minutes."

I put a dark shawl over my shoulders and put on running shoes even though I don't run. I can run if I have to and I can run faster in running shoes than in heels. What if the Rigatoni are waiting for me outside? I put on dark glasses. I consider a wig, too, but that might be overkill. On second thought, however, I put on a cheap blonde wig Luis wore last Halloween. You can't be too careful. I stumble on the stairs and again when I get outside because I can't see, so I put the dark glasses in my pocket.

The address takes me to a three story building. I enter the green door she mentioned and find it's a walkup. So I trudge up the three flights and find the door with the lettering that simply reads, Ida Grolsch. I knock and hear someone say, "Come in."

The office is actually the front room of an apartment. A desk sits in the left corner and there's a doorway that leads to the rest of the apartment directly across from the door I walked in. A door to the side must lead to another room, perhaps a bedroom. A large woman sits at the desk and looks up and smiles. "Hello, Miz McCauley," she says. "Please have a seat."

Her hair is straight and blonde. She's wearing black rimmed reading glasses and has a pasty complexion that I realize is heavily powdered with circles of rouge on her cheeks. Luis would be appalled, but Luis isn't here. She wears a plain tight fitting, grey, business blazer and skirt. She has opaque stocking over heavy legs and crocheted slippers on her feet. She may be discreet, but she would stand out in a crowd. I'm losing faith rapidly.

"How did you know my name?" I ask.

"I shouldn't divulge the tricks of the trade, but I used caller ID and did a reverse number lookup. I had you in seconds after you hung up."

"Are you Missus Grolsch?" I ask.

"I'm Ida," she says and offers her hand. Her hand is huge and her grip is strong. I sit in the chair. The chair makes a loud squeak every time she moves and her voice is very loud. I find myself cringing when she speaks.

"Before we go any farther," I say, "I need to know that you won't tell the police what I'm about to tell you. Do detectives have to tell the police if a crime is committed?"

"Technically, we investigators do," she says, "though they do give us a little leeway. On the other hand, if we ratted out our clients every time they told us about a crime we'd soon be out of business."

"So I have your word that you won't go to the police?" I ask.

"That depends," she says and leans back in her chair. "What is the crime that's been committed?"

"Kidnapping and I think my life may be in danger," I say.

Ida sits up straight and looks at me hard. "Has the kidnapping already occurred?" she asks.

"Yes," I say. "A friend of mine is being held hostage and the kidnappers want me to do something for them?"

"And they told you that if you go to the police they'll kill your friend?" Ida asks.

"Yes."

"I guess we better not go to the police then," she says. "Okay, here's what we'll do. You give me the details and I'll give you a body guard and we'll work on getting your friend back, too."

"Seriously?" I ask. "You can do that? Are you going to negotiate with the kidnappers? They're very bad people."

"That's no problem," she says.

Her confidence is amazing. How can she be so sure of herself? I wonder.

"I'm going to have someone watching you around the clock. He'll have to stay with you at night and tail you during the day. He'll always be close and nothing will happen to you."

"No offense," I say, "but how can you be so sure of yourself? Who is this guy?"

Ida turns and yells through the doorway, "LUTHER!"

The doorway fills with a man. He's about six and half feet tall and as wide as the doorway. I guess he's about thirty. His blond hair is cut in a buzz cut and two ice water blue eyes sit on either side of a hatchet nose. He's wearing a plain, black, pocket tee shirt that's stretched across an acre of chest and a rippled stomach. Tree trunk sized arms hang at his side and end in ham sized hands. Despite his enormous and intimidating size his most striking feature are those piercing eyes. He scans my body and I swear he now knows I opted for the turquoise thong instead of the magenta one. He's the kind of guy who could look at your refrigerator and tell what's inside without opening the door--those kind of piercing eyes.

His jeans are stretched over thighs that are probably as big as my chest. The toes of black cowboy boots poke out from under his cuffs.

"Ma?" he says.

"Luther, Miz McCauley's friend has been kidnapped. She needs a bodyguard. Go with her, get her friend back, and keep her safe."

Luther's head is the size and shape of a cement block and from the looks of it, as hard. He nods once. "Okay, Ma."

"How much will this cost?" I ask unable to take my eyes off her son.

"Don't worry about that now," Ma Grolsch says. "We'll worry about that when your problem is taken care of and you're satisfied with our services." She turns to Luther and says, "Don't tell your brother. Remember to take your toothbrush."

Luther nods and disappears back in the apartment. He's back in two minutes with a leather motorcycle jacket with enough leather to make a couch. Ma Grolsch pulls a large lethal looking, black gun from a drawer and hands it to him. He tucks it in his belt behind his back and under his jacket so it's out of sight.

He's at the door in one stride of those long legs and nods at me so I follow him out the door. We stand in the hallway for a moment. I notice two things, first of all, he's even bigger when you're standing beside him and secondly, he's very sexy. While Tomi is sexy in a cool, sophisticated way, Luther is sexy in a raw, animal way. If Tomi is a leopard then Luther is a tiger. Luther is scary. I guess that's good in a bodyguard.

"There are a few things we have to get straight, Miz McCauley," he says.

"Please call me Annie," I say.

"Okay. You can call me Luther," he says.

At first, when I saw him responding to his mother in mono syllables, I thought Luther was simple, but now I realize that wasn't the case. "Can you really get my friend, Luis back?" I ask.

"Sure, no problem, but it might take some time," he says. "I'll need you to fill me in on the details. But more importantly, I need to keep you safe, so we're going to have a few rules. First of all, you don't go through a doorway first. I do. Secondly, you must never be out of my sight. Is that understood?"

"What about when I'm in the bathroom?" I ask, always the one to spot the fly in the ointment as my mama would say.

"No problem," he says.

"Eh?" I ask.

"You've got to be kidding," I say.

"Okay, you can be out of my sight while you're in the bathroom," he says reluctantly.

"Okay," I say and nod. "We have a deal."

"... and finally, I need to sleep with you," he slips in, if you'll excuse the rough pun.

"What?" I ask.

"I don't mean in the same bed, but I do mean in the same place, in your apartment."

"Do you mind sleeping on a couch?" I ask.

"Not at all," he says.

"Then we shouldn't have a problem," I say. "There may be a problem when I go to work, though."

"What do you do for a living?" he asks.

"I'm a model," I say.

A smile plays at the corners of his lips and he says, "Maybe you could just explain that since you became a Youtube star you need protection from the crazies who come out of the woodwork."

I groan. "So you saw it, too?"

"Was it really a toilet seat?" he asks.

"Yes, unfortunately it was and before you ask, Super Glue."

"Hmmm," he says. "I'll have to remember that. Okay, I guess we're ready to go." Minutes later we're in a cab.

"This all happened so fast," I say, "it just dawned on me that I don't know what kind of training you have and I've put my life in your hands and put Luis's life in your hands. Do you have any special training?"

"Special forces."

"How long were you in?" I ask.

"About two and a half years."

That's not very long," I say and wait for some kind of explanation.

"Things happened, it didn't work out," he says.

I look at him questioningly.

"I have a problem with rules," he says and stares straight ahead.

"Really, you didn't mind starting with rules with me," I say.

"Those were my rules. I mostly have trouble with other people's rules," he says.

"Mostly? You mean you sometimes have problems with your own rules?"

He turns those eyes on me again, not hostile, just searching. It's unsettling and thrilling at the same time. My body is giving me some very mixed up messages. I realize that I've never met anyone like him before. Don't get me wrong, when I said I never rode a horse I wasn't counting cowboys, if you know what I mean, but even though the cowboys I met in West Texas tended to be the strong silent type, this guy is in a new league. "Don't you?" It was his turn to stare at me.

"I guess I do," I said and smiled, remembering rule number twenty seven and Tomi Di Ponti. I shift uncomfortably and decide to go in a new direction. "Why can't you tell your brother?"

"He just made detective on the force. He's a bit of a goody-goody, straight arrow type."

"One in every family," I say.

"Tell me about it. He means well, but a lot of the time he doesn't have a clue. I take care of things, see that things go his way, you know, look out for him. You got any sisters?"

That one catches me a little off my guard. "Nope."

"Shame."

"Why's that?" I ask.

"You're a looker, be nice if there were more like you in the world," he says and may or may not have tried to smile. I thought I saw a flicker at the corner of his mouth.

"Are you hitting on me?" I ask.

"Maybe."

"Rule number twenty eight," I say, "I don't sleep with employees." There that put you in your place.

"Seriously? You have twenty seven other rules?"

"You don't know the half of it."

"I don't think I want to," he says and shivers.

"In that case, I guess you better stay on that couch."

Naturally, I'm still wearing my disguise, such as it is, when we reach the building and go in. When we reach my apartment door he takes the key and unlocks the door. Inside he scans the room. The thing is, when you take a stranger to your apartment and walk in, it's like you're seeing it for the first time, too.

I'm seeing the pizza box that's sticking out from under the couch. That would be the couch with the hideous green and pink afghan that my mother crocheted for me two years ago. I silently groan. His eyes stop on the piles of magazines.

"You do a lot of reading?" he asks.

"No," I say.

"Somebody pissed off at you?" he asks.

I nod. "Brittany Carstairs and while we're on the subject, she may or may not be an enemy. I recently head butted her and threw horseshit in her face."

"May?" he says and looks at me questioningly.

"It's complicated," I say, but I'm impressed with the fact that he doesn't ask any more questions or raise an eyebrow when I just told him I head butted someone and threw horseshit in her face. Here is a man who might be able to go the distance. I decide to share. "Brit and I go all the way back to Mesa View, Texas. We have a history and there have been problems."

"And you recently took her out with a head butt and then threw shit in her face?" he says.

"Don't sound so impressed!" I say. "I didn't mean to do it. It was an accident."

He was content to accept the short version, but now I guess I've piqued his interest. "How do you accidentally head butt another woman and then throw shit in her face?" he asks.

"If you must know, the Rigatoni gang fired a starter pistol and spooked the horses and my foot slipped off the carriage so I fell and head butted Brit while she was kneeling at my feet. Then my dress got caught on the carriage and the horses bolted and my dress was ripped off and I fell in a fresh pile of horseshit. I got it on my hand and when I realized what it was I just shook my hand, you know like you do when you're trying to get something sticky off your hand?"

"Like shit?" he asks.

"Like a booger," I say. "Don't look at me like that. It may not make sense now, but it made sense while it was happening. Why are you smiling and nodding?"

"Not many years ago I said something very similar to a Colonel."

"Did he believe you?" I ask.

"No, she didn't."

"By the way you say, she, I suspect you have trouble working for a woman."

"It depends," he says.

"Depends on what?" I ask.

"It depends on whether or not she knows what she's doing. Take you for instance..."

"What about me?"

"I get the feeling you're having trouble accepting that I'm in charge."

"You're in charge!" I say and feel hot blood rushing to my face and ears. "What the hell are you chuckling about? What's so funny? And when did you get the idea that you were in charge?"

"Ma told me to protect you and save your friend, Luis, didn't she? Isn't that what you hired us for?"

"Yes, but the operative word is hired. You're working for me."

"Let's get one thing straight," he says and I can see flecks of flint and steel in those ice blue eyes. "You may be the boss, but when it comes to making decisions about your safety and Luis, I call the shots. Otherwise, I may as well go home."

"Oh, so I can be the boss as long as you're in charge?" I ask.

"Something like that," he says and sits on the couch. Now he's looking up at me and my neck will finally get a rest from being bent back as I look up at him. "Put the remote down! We're not through with this yet," I say. "I don't have a problem and I don't always have to be in charge, but when I'm paying the bills I expect to make the decisions."

"Fine," he says and shrugs. "What's the plan?"

"What plan?" I ask.

"The plan for rescuing Luis," he says. He picks up a framed photo from the coffee table. "Is this him?"

It's a photo of me and Luis and for some reason it bothers me to see him holding it. I snatch it from his hand and say, "Yes, that's my best friend and I'll thank you to keep your hands off my stuff."

He looks at me expectantly. "Well?"

"No, I don't have a plan."

"Well, I do have a plan," he says, "but it's not going to do us any good if you can't get over your issues with allowing a man to tell you what to do once in a while. I've seen what happens when people have to be in charge and won't listen to someone with more experience."

I sit on the end of the couch, away from him, and pull my knees up to my chest. "Oh, so that's it," I say.

"This obviously isn't going to work," he says and stands up abruptly. "Good luck staying safe and helping Luis. You'll need it. I can see myself out."

"I want to hear your plan," I say and reach out to grab his hand before he can walk past me. His hand is incredibly warm and there's that tingle again. I've felt it once before in my life when Tomi and I held hands. Something goes through me all the way to my heels.

He's towering over me and standing rigid. I pull a little and it feels like I'm trying to pull down a redwood tree. "Okay, I admit it, you have more experience so we'll go with your plan, but I have to know what it is so please sit back down on this lovely afghan, which won second prize in the county fair competition for crocheting, I might add and also matches the toaster cover, and the hat that's stashed so far back in my closet the FBI couldn't find it, and you can tell me about it."

A smile slowly spreads across his face. "You've got to be kidding, you have a hat that matches your toaster cover?" he says.

"Yup, as if it isn't bad enough that I actually have a toaster cover, I've got a hat that matches it. There's a crocheted cover that goes over the toaster complete with a snazzy pom-pom on top and the hat has a cute little pom-pom on top, too. If you don't believe me, I'll dig it out of the closet, but it might take a few days to find it."

"A gift from your mother?"

I nod and sigh.

"Well, you've met Ma," he says and we share a knowing look. "Okay."

"Let's just start over," I say.

We sit on the couch and watch the tube for a while and then I'm yawning.

I head for bed and Luther, true to his word, sacks out on the couch with Mama's afghan over him. It's a sight. If only Mama knew what was under that afghan tonight! If only his old special forces buddies could see him with the pink and green floral squares over his giant shoulders.

As I lay in bed I can't get those shoulders and the rest of the man out of my head. Think of Tomi and your career, I tell myself. What about poor Luis? What is happening to him right now? It's all my fault. I was exhausted when I went to bed, but now I'm having trouble falling asleep. Maybe it would help if I had someone to snuggle up to?

Annie, for godssakes! Remember rule number twenty nine! Never sleep with one guy - even if he's on your couch - when you're dreaming of another guy who is a much better prospect - even if he's the *boss (*see rule number twenty seven).

As I begin to finally drift off a little voice in my head says, It's really true what they say, life is what happens while you're thinking about another guy.

Or, another voice says, a guy on the couch is worth two in your dreams.

"Shaddup and go to sleep," I mumble into my pillow.

# Chapter 15

I awaken to the smell of coffee and food, perhaps something that's freshly baked. Does Luther cook? I ask myself.

The deli bags on my miniscule kitchen table answer that question. But as least he can make coffee.

"I never heard you leave or come back," I say to Luther who is sitting at that table.

"You weren't supposed to," he says. "I guessed you were a poppy seed or sesame seed bagel lover, but I have an everything if you're feeling more adventurous."

I can see from the tee shirt stretched across his chest and the tight fitting jeans that he has everything so he didn't have to tell me, but it's nice to know. He smells slightly of soap and shampoo so I figure he's already used the bathroom. I inhale deeply and drink in the smell of freshly brewed coffee. I could get used to someone taking care of breakfast.

Poppy seed is the bagel of the day. I add some non dairy, cream cheese-like stuff and it's complete. Maybe someday when things are less complicated I'll check out his everything.

With a half ton of man in it the kitchen is somewhat congested. We sit huddled over the table-ette and sip coffee for a few minutes. Finally I ask, "How are we going to do it?"

"What?" he asks.

"Save Luis," I say. "Have you ever done anything like this before, really?"

"Yes and no," he answers. "Yes, I've rescued someone who was being held, but not by people who are named after pasta. The bad guys in my case were wearing towels on their heads and carried A K Forty Sevens. The idea is the same, though. We go in fast and hard and neutralize the kidnappers and secure the package."

"What does that mean in people talk?"

"We invade their space rapidly. We make them so they can't do any harm to the captive and we extricate him from the situation. Is that any better?"

"Yes."

My phone is ringing and buzzing as usual.

"Do you ever answer that?" he asks and nods toward the phone.

"I will eventually," I say.

Then there's a knock at the door. In one movement he glides out of the kitchen before I can stand and he's at the door looking through the peep hole. Somehow his handgun is in his hand even though I never saw it in his belt. He motions me to the door and I look through the peephole.

"It's my agent, Marcie," I say. "I should let her in."

He nods okay and the gun goes behind his back and his tee shirt covers it.

I open the door and Marcie rushes in and hugs me, "Thank god you're alright I've been worried sick over..." she stops in mid-sentence and her ever widening eyes slowly make their way up Luther until they reach his face.

"It's okay," I say. "This is Luther."

"Hello," Marcie says and smiles at me.

"It's not like that, Marcie. He's a body guard," I say.

"Of course he is, honey," she says and winks at me.

"No, really, Marcie, he's a bodyguard. He slept on the couch last night because I've been getting some weird emails and stuff since the Youtube fiasco."

"Annie," she says as I maneuver her to the couch, "you may call it a fiasco, but Tomi Di Ponti and I are calling it a gold mine."

"What the heck are you talking about?" I ask.

"The video of you head butting the poor peasant girl has gone viral. The national news picked it up. It's on the BBC news for god's sake!"

I groan.

"What's the matter with you, don't you get it?" she asks.

"No, I guess I don't," I say.

"When you hit her in the face with the shit it was better than the old pie in the face. The Czarina line has just hit the stores and the products are flying off the shelves. The E news wants to interview you. The Wall Street Journal is calling it marketing genius. Revolving Door Woman strikes again. Tomi has been franticly trying to reach you."

"Does this mean I'm not fired?" I ask, dazed.

"Not fired? Honey, we're holding out for a new contract. He fired you and now he wants you back. I've got a fresh new contract with lots of zeroes in the right places right here." She pats her purse. "I just need the go-ahead from you."

I look at Luther who is sitting in my largest chair and looking thoughtful.

"What do you think?" I ask him.

"It's going to make it a lot more difficult," he says.

A cloud passes over Marcie's face. "Just how serious were the threats?" she asks.

"Serious enough," I say, "but, don't worry, I'll do more work for Tomi."

"That's the spirit," Marcie says.

"You go ahead and negotiate and I'll shower and get ready and then I'll call him myself," I say.

"Are they really calling Tomi a comic genius?" I ask.

"No, he admitted to the press that it wasn't his intention for things to go the way they did, so they assumed that you were ad-libbing. Annie, they're calling you, Revolving Door Lady, a comic genius and they want more."

As I get ready to go back once again to the Di Ponti building, I'm numb.

Luther assures me that he will be shadowing me and keep me safe.

--------

The receptionist, Miz Hopkins, is even paler than before. She's gone from ashen to wan, or is it the other way around? Well, anyway, her eyes are still red and her nails are still chipped as though she's been chewing them. Something is obviously bothering her. Chewing on the nails is a bad sign. I've found that when people start chewing on themselves there's usually something else eating away at them, but at the moment I've got other fish to fry and she'll have to sort the guy out herself (it's usually a guy, isn't it?). She gives Greta the tag and the old girl jumps in the ring.

Greta is her usual effervescent self. She spits out the nails she's chewing and her mouth invites me to follow her while her eyes invite me to kiss her ass. I opt for the first choice and ignore the second offer, since, as I've already mentioned, I have other fish to fry. I'm about to sail into Tomi's office as the conquering hero, the vindicated woman, the lucky stiff who fell into a pile of shit and somehow came out smelling like a rose. I don't care. I'd rather be lucky than good, employed rather than out of work. I hesitate as I walk through the door, however, because instead of meeting me with an apologetic look on his handsome face he's bent over a table with a redhead attached to his shoulder. Greta smirks at me and leaves.

If Brittany was any closer to him she'd be standing on the other side. They're looking over some drawings and chatting away so much they don't even notice I've arrived. If my confidence was a float in the Macy's parade it would be bouncing off the heads in the crowd. What the hell? Some triumphant return.

He finally looks up, smiles, and rushes over to me and gives me a hug.

"Annie," he says. "I thought you'd left town."

I hold onto him for a few extra seconds just to let Brit know I'm taking possession again.

"Well, you did fire me," I say. "But I don't run away. I came here to make it and I'm going to do just that." As I say that I look over his shoulder at Brittany. I can't read the look on her face, but it isn't happiness over the prodigal model's return, I can tell you that.

"Hello, Brit," I say.

She strides over and gives me a hug and a Hollywood peck on the air beside my cheek. It doesn't bother me. We models don't want our makeup smudged and it's a standard issue greeting in the fashion world. Tomi stands off to the side and beams at us. His girls seem to be getting along swell and all's well in the Di Ponti family again, Not! He hasn't heard my demands, yet. In fact, I haven't, but I'll bet Marcie is going for the gold. I have a few of my own, though, and the list is growing by the minute.

"How's the nose, Brit?" I ask. She has a big bandage on it and her eyes are somewhat blackened.

"Ogay," she says through nostrils that are swollen shut.

"I really am sorry," I say. "But I guess things worked out for the best, didn't they?"

She smiles with her mouth and peeks over the bandage with eyes that are less than friendly.

"How long will you be wearing that bandage?" I ask.

"Id gomes off ina weed or two debendin on how fadst the swellin godes down. Fordunadely, nudding wads broken," she says.

"So, no real harm done," Tomi says.

"Easy for him to say, hey, Brit?" I say.

Again her mouth smiles and she nods in agreement.

"Well, Brittany," Tomi says and smiles at her. "Annie and I have a lot to talk over so you can go now."

Whoa, talk about the bum's rush, I think to myself, but then he drops a bombshell on me and I'm reeling.

"Brittany and I were up half the night working out some new ideas for advertising and promoting, based on what happened," he says. "So I know she'll want to get some sleep."

She smiles like Luis's cat (after the unfortunate disappearance of Buddy) at me. She gives Tomi a hug and is out the door while I stand stunned. Up half the night? Which leaves the question, what position were you in for the rest of the night?

I totter to a chair and sit down.

Tomi buzzes Greta and asks her to bring in some champagne.

Up half the night? Brittany and I have some ideas? I know about her ideas and I'm starting to get a bead on his as well. That look she shot me pretty much told the story. I can't help but remember the invitation to spend the night that Tomi offered to me. As far as I know, Brit has never heard of rule number twenty eight, or was that twenty seven? I'm so shocked even the rules are getting fuzzy. Apparently, Tomi has never heard about the rules as well.

Greta wheels in a little cart with an ice bucket, bottle, and two glasses. She leaves, but turns in the door long enough to give me another knowing look and that damned smirk.

Tomi pops the cork and fills two glasses. He hands me a glass and raises his toward me. "To success," he says and smiles, "and Revolving Door Lady."

Hmmm, I think to myself, revolving door or revolving bed? But I smile and make the toast. Okay, or is that ogay? Two or three can play this game. Little Annie McCauley is getting a big city education, I may have started a little slowly, but I'm getting up to speed real fast.

And don't forget, Annie, I say to myself, you've still got some negotiating to do. I hope you have some very deep pockets, Mister Di Ponti.

"I hear that initial orders for the Czarina line are very good," I say.

"Good, they're a lot better than that!" Tomi says. "They're fantastic."

"That's good. I'm sorry I no longer work for you because it would be interesting to see what we could have done if we'd continued working together."

Now it's Tomi's turn to look stunned. "Marcie told me you wanted to continue our relationship..." he starts.

Interesting choice of words, relationship? I shrug and pick imaginary lint off my sleeve. "Maybe," I say. "What have you and Red cooked up?"

"Are you jealous of her?" he asks... Bastard.

"Nope. I just want to make some things clear," I say.

"Such as?" he asks.

"Let's start with Luis," I say.

"Luis?"

"Yes, Luis. My personal makeup artist He needs some time off. He also needs a raise."

"Marcie didn't mention that," Tomi says.

"She and I didn't have a chance to discuss it. We also didn't have a chance to discuss his car."

"You want me to supply a car to your makeup artist?" Tomi asks.

"You needn't look so surprised, Tomi," I say. "You may not know it, but Luis is the best makeup artist in the business and I'm very fond of him. You have no idea of what he's gone through for me and your company."

"Let me get this straight," Tomi says. "We're talking about the funny little guy with yellow hair?"

"He's the one."

"Annie, you may be fond of him, but there are plenty of people in this city who can do a great job with makeup and I don't have to give them a car," Tomi begins.

I stand up and head for the door.

"Where are you going?" Tomi asks.

"Home," I say over my shoulder. You want a czarina - you'll get a czarina, I say to myself. Czarinas don't negotiate.

"Okay, okay," Tomi says and waves me back. "Luis gets a car..."

"A Porsche," I add.

Tomi sighs and says, "A Porsche. Is there anything else?"

I sit, smile sweetly, and say, "I've got more. Maybe you better call Greta in so she can take notes. I'd like her to hear this, too."

About an hour later Greta is rubbing her hand to ease her writer's cramp and Tomi's usually happy face is looking a little stressed as he asks if there's anything else I want. You wouldn't believe the things that popped into my head when I got rolling. He needs me now. The world wants more of Revolving Door Lady playing the part of the czarina. Up half the night working on ideas? That'll fix him and his ideas.

# Chapter 16

As I left the Di Ponti building I thought I saw a dark shadow with a black fedora dart around a corner. The Rigatoni guys seem to be great darters. What I didn't see was my bodyguard. Maybe that's a good thing, I thought to myself. If I don't see him, maybe the Rigatoni guy won't see him, too. But is he really there?

Fortunately, a cab had just pulled up to the curb as I left and I jumped in. I looked behind us several times as we drove to my building, but I never saw a good guy or bad guy behind me. I was putting my key in my lock when a shadow suddenly loomed over me. I looked over my shoulder to see those eyes boring into me. "How did it go?" he asks

Once inside I sit on the couch and say, "Were you there?"

"I was there," he says.

"Where?" I ask. "I didn't see you."

"Isn't that the point?" he asks.

"I don't know. I guess that's good. But I need some assurance. I thought I saw one of the Rigatoni guys."

"That means you missed the other three," he says.

"What other three?" I ask.

"You probably saw the one that zipped around the corner when you came out of the building, right?" he asks.

"Yes, I did," I say.

"He's the one you were supposed to see. He's the one that's supposed to keep you honest. He let's you see him and that makes you afraid to go to the cops or to tell anyone that they have Luis," Luther says. "The other three did a good job of tailing you, but then again, they knew where you were going. They didn't see me. My first take on them is that they're arrogant and they think they have you so afraid of them that you're being compliant."

"Good. That means they won't hurt Luis, right?" I ask.

"Probably," he says. "But we have to turn the heat up a little and start our plan."

"What is our plan?" I ask. "I mean, specifically?"

"I want you to let them know that you want to meet their leader and that you need to know that Luis is safe or the deal is off. Tell them you need to see Luis physically to know he's okay."

"And what if they don't go along with it?" I ask.

"They won't. They'll threaten you and tell you they're going to start sending you pieces of Luis and that you better quit making demands."

"Uh," I say. "That's your plan? While we're on the subject, how does all this communication take place? They didn't exactly give me a business card."

"Annie, they're following you and watching you. I've checked and this apartment isn't bugged, but you can bet your ass as soon as you walk out of the building they're shadowing you.."

"... and?" I ask.

"You simply drop an envelope with your message on it and they'll call you. That's if they don't contact you before then. There are two ways it will go down. If they don't call you tonight, you drop that envelope tomorrow."

"Drop it where?" I ask.

"On the sidewalk. Drop a red envelope on the sidewalk. They'll see it."

"And then you want me to go with them again?" I ask. "You want them to take me?"

"Yes, I do," he says. "Don't worry. I'll be close by at all times and I'll have a GPS tracking device on you as well."

"What if they find it?" I ask.

He grins at me and says, "Don't worry. They won't find it where I'm going to put it."

Suddenly the prospect of being bugged is taking on more meaning and I'm not sure I like it. "You can wipe that foolish grin off your face right now, Luther Grolsch. Okay, I'll do it, but you're not putting that tracking device anywhere. I can find a place for it."

"Are you sure," he says and laughs. "I was looking forward to helping you find a good spot for it."

"You really are a devil, aren't you?" I ask.

"When I find out where they're holding Luis, you'll be thankful that at least one devil is on your side," he says. "When do you have to go back to Di Ponti's?"

"It depends. They've decided that Brittany and I are a team," I explain.

"How do you feel about that?" he asks.

"I hate it, but she's gotten her hooks into Tomi as I knew she would."

He's scanning my face like it's a bar code. "You don't like her do you?"

"Like her? She's my arch enemy. What are you laughing about now?"

"I just like the way you talk," he says. "Arch enemy. Have you got a thing for this Tomi guy?"

"That's none of your business," I say.

"You don't have to get all hot under the collar," he says. "That's some temper you've got there! I just have to know the landscape so I know where we stand and what is expected of me."

"I expect you to protect me and..."

"Can't protect you from a broken heart, Annie," he says in a softer and quieter voice.

Where the hell did that come from? I pause, shocked. "As I was saying, Luther, I expect you to protect me and get Luis back safe and sound. I can take care of my heart and other vital organs. To answer your question, I don't go back for a week or so because we have to give Brittany's nose time to get back to normal. I might get called in to go over some plans, but other than that, I've got some free time."

"Good. We have a week to work on this, then," he says and smiles. "If we need more time you can always head butt her again. Maybe that will give us time to get to know each other well enough so I can help you to find another spot to..."

"In your dreams, Luther," I say. I can't help smiling though at that bad, little boy look he's fastened on me. Part of me wants him to stop flirting and start working on business while another part wants him to keep trying because, well, you never know. You can use your imagination to figure out which part wants what.

--------

The magazine situation is getting critical. Horse and Rider, Guns n' Ammo, Car and Driver, This and That, you name it and the world seems to have a magazine for it. If you don't believe me, look at the large cardboard box in my hall, my coffee table, the little table near the door and any other flat surface in my small apartment. The place is overflowing with magazines and there seems to be a never ending supply arriving daily. Now that I have a week off I decide to get to the bottom of it.

Luther is sitting on the couch flipping through channels and settles on a Woody Woodpecker cartoon. I'm in my chair calling the number on the subscription tag that came with one of the magazines. It's a periodical distributor in the Mid West. My call is answered on the third ring by a robot who instructs me to listen carefully because their menu has changed. Are there actually people who have memorized the old menu and will now have to memorize the new one? Or is this just a ploy to make you listen to the entire menu so that you waste the maximum amount of time trying to stop the flood of magazines, the eighth plague, that has descended upon you?

I make a choice which takes me to another menu. One live person could solve my problem, I guess, but though they tell us these menus are for our convenience they're actually serving the people who own the company and reducing their overhead since real people are more expensive than robots. On the fourth menu I'm starting to get very annoyed. I'm sure these people know this because they've done tests and have annoying people down to a science. Just go away and pay for the magazines you didn't order, seems to be what they're saying. Not this gal.

Turns out the ninth menu is the charm and a bored person with an alien accent, perhaps from Jupiter, tells me her name is Cathy and asks if she can help. I feel like I've won the lottery or another trip to Vegas. As I begin to explain the problem, namely a flood of magazines I didn't order, the line goes dead. Accidentally disconnected? My foot! I call back and go through the menus like an Olympic skier through the slalom course. I'm hoping I can connect with Cathy, but no such luck. This time it's Jason. Yeah, right, Mohammed or something would be more like it, but I'm not going to be choosy. First I blurt out that I don't want to be cut off again like the last time. Then I start to explain. The line goes dead. Mighty bad phone service they have at that call center.

Woody has finally driven poor Gus the walrus crazy and the cartoon is over. Luther sighs and paces the floor. "How're you making out?" he asks.

"Like a house afire," I say and give him the thumbs up. "Third time's the charm."

He wanders the few feet it takes to get into my kitchen. I'm not complaining even though my apartment is only slightly bigger than some of the boxes my new shoes have been in. Here in the Mid Village of Queens, conveniently located just fifteen minutes from the fashion capital of the world, Manhattan, I'm lucky to have found a place I can afford, even a third floor walkup.

I expertly maneuver through the menus and find myself talking to Roger, now you tell one. The phone system seems to hang on this time, however and me and Roger get past the preliminaries and actually square off and start trading rounds. I tell him I didn't order said magazines and he says I must have. How did we get your address? He asks me. Good question, I answer. Then I say, how did you get my name and address? He says I gave it to them when I gave them my credit card number...

"What! You have my credit card number?" I ask incredulously.

He reads me a number and it sounds good even though I don't have the credit card in front of me. "Is it possible that someone is angry with you?" Roger asks me.

Other than my arch enemy Brittany and the Italian gang that recently kidnapped me and is holding my best friend for ransom, no one that I can think of. After exchanging some unpleasantries Roger and I come to the conclusion that he'll refer this to a collection agency and trash my good name at the three major credit misinformation bureaus and I tell him I'll dispute it with my credit card company and put a personal curse on him. I'm seething when I get off the phone.

There is a commotion out in the hallway and then a loud knock on the door. I hear a booming nasal voice that I've heard before and a peep through the peephole reveals Ida Grolsch standing outside my door. Apparently, Ida is as noisy as her son is quiet. Whereas Luther can move quickly and silently anywhere and anytime, Ida makes a racket just walking down a hallway. Maybe it's those extra heavy Dutch legs or her family sized hips whacking the walls in the narrow hallway. Whatever the case, she won't be sneaking up on anyone soon.

I open the door and she smiles. She's wearing another gray business suit with a long skirt and that straight blond hair hanging down framing her wide face with enough rouge smeared on her cheeks to paint a barn door. "I came to see my boy," she announces and I hear a loud sigh coming from my couch.

She comes in and I motion her to the largest chair where she flops down. I've never heard so much noise come from an overstuffed chair, but it's sort of a muffled explosion when Ida sits down. "I've got bags of groceries in the car, Luther." She announces and Luther happily heads out the door.

"I could help you carry them," I offer. But Luther shakes his head, No, at the door and he's gone.

Meanwhile, Ma Grolsch is looking the clutter over with a jaundiced eye, obviously not pleased with my house keeping skills. Her eyes take in the magazines and she says, "Somebody got it in for you?"

I try not to, but I can't help but cringe when she speaks. Her voice is a combination of fingernails on a chalkboard, a scalded cat, and a ten year old banging on a trash can with a large stick.

"I guess so," I say. "Probably Brittany, but whoever ordered them has my credit card number as well."

"That's not good," she says. I'm sorry that Luis isn't around to call her Queen of the Obvious, one of his favorite expressions. I wonder what she'd think of him.

Luther walks through the door carrying two large grocery bags and heads right back out again as soon as they're on the counter. How much food did Ma Grolsch bring?

She sees me looking at the bags and says, "You've got to feed a man. Has he been behaving?"

Sheesh, she gets right to the point. As she says that he's walking through the door with two more bags. He looks imploringly at me and waits for my reply.

This would be a good time to drop a hint to Ma that would probably put an end to his flirting and suggestions.

"Good as gold," I say to Ida and smile warmly.

His eyes are full of gratitude when he puts those groceries down in the kitchen.

"I better put those things away," I say and rise to head for the kitchen. Ida is on her feet and at my side. Like her son she fills the kitchenette and is opening cupboards and putting things away before I can stop her, making a terrible racket. I have no doubt she's really checking me out. Ida's no fool and realizes her son is living with me, more or less and things could happen and Little Annie McCauley could someday be the mother of her grandchildren. By the way she shudders when she opens my refrigerator and sees the science projects gone wrong that constitute my food supply I'd say she's hoping her boy really has been behaving like a gentleman and a priest, too.

As if it isn't bad enough that his mother is taking over my kitchen Luther stands in the doorway and says, "I'm kind of hungry, Ma."

I turn and glare at him, but I'm too late and Ida starts whipping something up, pulling out bowls and pots and pans. Where did that blue mixing bowl come from? I wonder. It looks familiar and then I remember I never returned it to Luis when I'd brought something home in it from his apartment. I haven't used it since bringing it home because the only thing that gets mixed up in my kitchen is me.

I walk out of my own kitchen, turning it over to another woman and feeling a little like Napoleon after Waterloo, although I never had many victories in my kitchen. My couch becomes my Saint Helena with Luther at the other end. We turn the television off and sit in silence. The smell of food being cooked in my apartment, though foreign, makes my stomach rumble and I realize I haven't fed the elk in a while.

It takes about a half hour for Ida to whip up a meal and we're soon huddled over my table-ette in the kitchenette. With two Grolschs in it the apartment is starting to feel like an apartment-ette.

"Did you figure out anything, Luther?" Ida asks as I slurp the stew and chase a dumpling around with my spoon.

"This is very good," I say.

Ida beams at me and says, "You're too skinny. If you want to get a man you have to have some meat on your bones."

Apparently Ida and Nonni have the same advice about men. I feel like saying it hasn't stopped Tomi and Luther from trying to jump my boney ass, but I refrain and content myself with the knowledge that I could have her son right there on the table-ette where we're having stew any time I want him.

"Typical tail," Luther says, "one in the open and three under cover. They're covering her from the time she hits the sidewalk, but once she's inside they back off."

"You checked for bugs?" she asks.

"The apartment is clean," he says.

Ida's eyes dart around the apartment and I see a look of doubt that quickly gives way to disapproval. "They've got somebody on the inside, then," she says.

"That's what I'm thinking," he says. He tears more bread from the fresh loaf she brought and works on the stew.

"When the Rigatoni guys had me they called someone," I say.

"Any idea who it was? Did they say any names?" Ida asks.

"No, but the leader said he had to call her, so I guess it's a female."

"Do you have any idea who it could be?" Ida asks.

I'm starting to get used to her voice though it's still a little unsettling and I swear I hear the glasses in the cupboard rattle together every time she speaks. "Well, there's always Brittany. She's at the top of the list."

"Would she know enough to contact the Rigatoni gang?" Luther asks.

"I don't know. It doesn't seem to be her style. The Carstairs clan have always been the kind to stab you in the back and do dirty tricks..."

"Like the magazines?" Ida asks.

"Yeah, I could picture Brit doing that," I say.

"Is there any way she could have gotten your credit card information or even your social security number?" Luther asks.

"That's a good question," I say.

"Have you ever worked together at the same place?" Ida asks.

"Yes, we worked together at a Steak shack and she might have gotten it there. She was sleeping with the owner's son and I think he would have done anything for her."

"If she has your social security number and your credit card info and knows your mother's maiden name and other things about you, then she could really cause a lot of trouble," Ida says.

"I'd say she probably has all that information and maybe more," I say.

"But you don't think she's working with the Rigatoni?" Ida asks.

"No, I don't."

"Who else could it be?" Luther asks.

"I don't know. Greta, Tomi's secretary really seems to hate me," I say.

"Do you know her last name?" Ida asks. "I could run her through the computer and see what I can find out about her. Who else works in his office?"

"The only other person is his receptionist. She's young and in my opinion she doesn't care about me one way or the other. I think she's got personal problems of some kind."

"Really? If she has a problem someone might be controlling her or using her," Ida says. "What's her name?"

"Her last name is Hopkins. I think I heard Greta call her Lee or Leah. Do you really think someone in Tomi's office is working with the Rigatoni gang? What do they hope to get out of it?"

Luther shrugs and says, "Maybe someone has a grudge. He's a real playboy from what I've heard." He looks me in the eye and it's unsettling. What the hell is he looking for with those laser beam eyes? The line about a broken heart is starting to make a lot more sense. We'll have to have a little talk after Ma goes home about him poking his nose into my personal life. I glare back at him and then realize Ida is silent for once and watching us both closely like a cat.

"I'll give you the recipe," Ida says and smiles at me.

"That would be nice," I say. "What other motive could someone have to be messing around with Tomi's business?"

"Maybe the competition is trying to sabotage him," Luther says.

"The Rigatoni and Di Ponti families have had a feud in the past, but that was a long time ago and they pretty much buried the hatchet as far as I know," I say. "Tomi's grandmother, Nonni, said it was over and now people prefer to steal with a pen."

"Some of those old world feuds go back centuries. Maybe a new leader came to power in the Rigatoni family and he's decided to renew the trouble and take over the business. Do you know if they've contacted Tomi?" Ida asks.

"Not that I know," I answer, "but it's unlikely he would tell me if they had contacted him. I think he's worried about the board of directors forcing him out or a hostile takeover by his competitor, Lyle Stevens."

"So if the business is on shaky ground Lyle Stevens could get his hands on the stock at a cheap price and take over the company," Luther says. "It's possible that Lyle is behind this. If he sabotages the campaign and this new line of products doesn't sell well the stock will plummet, especially since the company is carrying a lot of debt."

"But who is the woman that the Rigatoni leader called?" I ask.

"Maybe she's someone working on the inside for Lyle?" Ida says, "But I don't think so. The Rigatoni would have called Lyle, not his informant, especially if it was a young girl like Hopkins."

"I could picture her as a rat, but not a mastermind," I say. "She just doesn't look like a person who is trying to steal a company or has any kind of a plan other than how to get some guy under control or something like that."

"Men," Ida says and shakes her head.

I smile and nod in agreement. Out of the corner of my eye I see Luther grin at me. "You can say that again," I say. "Speaking of men," I add, "I'm really worried about Luis. I need to know he's not hurt and that they'll really keep him safe."

Ida nods. "Luther, you're dragging your feet. Annie is right. We need to put some pressure on them or get Luis back. Maybe both, do you hear me?"

"Okay, Ma,"

"Maybe you're getting too comfortable here," she says and looks at him closely.

"I'm sleeping on that couch in there, Ma," he says and nods toward the couch. "That isn't comfortable."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Annie is worried. Get it taken care of right away."

Luther is actually hanging his head. "Okay, Ma."

--------

After Ida leaves we're sitting on the couch, he at his end and I at mine. Finally he says, "Mothers."

"We all have our cross to bear," I say and sigh. My phone rings and it's the ring tone I've set up for Tomi. "It's Tomi," I say to Luther. "I have to talk to him."

"Okay," Luther says.

"Hello," I say.

"Annie, it's Tomi," he says as if I wouldn't recognize that smooth voice with the slight and very sexy accent.

"Yes, I recognize your number and voice," I say.

"Annie I think you and I should meet out of the office and have a chat. There are things I'd like to talk over with you. I feel like there's some tension between us and we need to clear a few things up," he says.

"I agree," I say. "Will we be alone or will Brittany be tagging along?"

"No, it will be just you and me," he says.

"Could you hold on a minute?" I ask.

I mute the phone and look at Luther who is frowning and watching me expectantly. "He wants to get together to talk," I say.

"I'll bet," Luther says. "Will it be at his office?"

"No, I think he's talking lunch or dinner."

"Too risky," Luther says. "Ask him to come here and tell him you'll cook."

"You really do want me to get in trouble, don't you?" I ask. "Poisoning Tomi isn't the answer," I say.

"Don't worry, we can get food and make it look like you've cooked it. I'll have Ma whip something up. Get him to come here for dinner," Luther says.

"And where will you be?" I ask suspiciously.

"Right here, of course," he says.

"No way. This is a private meeting and I don't want you around."

"I'll be out of the way."

"You'll be out of the apartment," I say.

Luther frowns and his lips get tight, as much emotion as I've seen from him. Finally he nods and says, "Oh, alright. But it has to be here tomorrow night."

"Tomi," I say into the phone. "Can we make it here tomorrow night? I'll cook something for you."

"Well," Tomi hesitates.

"Look, Tomi," I say, "I'm no Nonni, but I can cook. I promise not to poison you."

"Alright then," he says.

"Shall we say seven?" I ask.

"Alright," he says. "I'll bring the wine, should it be red or white or maybe one of each?"

"One of each," I say. "You never know."

"Right," he says and chuckles.

Luther is staring at me when I hang up.

"What?" I ask.

"You've invited him to your apartment and then you tell him, you never know?" Luther says with some heat in his voice.

"What?" I ask.

He continues staring at me like a dimwitted child who is struggling for an answer.

"What?" I ask.

"Well I know what I'd think if a woman invited me to her apartment and then said that," Luther says.

"You've got your mind in the gutter, Luther Grolsch," I say. "It was your idea to invite him here rather than going to a nice safe restaurant. Like I said, you have to leave us alone, too."

"I'll bug the place," he says.

"The hell you will!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks. "How can I keep you safe if I don't know what's going on?"

"Keep me safe from what?" I ask.

"Trouble. What if the Rigatoni decide they want you, too?"

"They had their chance at me and let me go. I'm more valuable to them sabotaging Tomi's plans. You know damned well they won't come back. You said it yourself. I think you're jealous," I say.

"You can wipe that smug smile off your face," Luther says.

I go into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Maybe a little chamomile tea will help me to relax. When I turn from the stove Luther is standing behind me. He's breathing deeply and his tee shirt is stretched tightly across his chest.

"I'm just trying to protect you, Annie," he says.

"That's fine, you can protect me, but you don't run my personal life," I say.

"So you admit that this isn't just a business meeting with this character?" he says.

"I don't like your attitude and I don't like you referring to Tomi as a character. You've been watching too many cartoons." Despite the anger between us I can't help but feel the heat pouring off his body. It's incredible and I feel myself drawn toward him.

"I don't want you..." I begin.

"Don't want me to do what?" he says and puts his hands on my upper arms and draws me to him.

Now he's tightly pressed against me. I have to turn my face up to look at him and when I do his lips are on mine before I know it. I hear the kettle in the background, the water is getting hot and the kettle is starting to make noise. The kiss starts hard and with force but then becomes gentler, not demanding just searching, lingering.

His strong arms are around me and he gently lifts me and sits me on the table, my legs apart and him between them. This is the table his mama just ate soup from. In fact my ass is on the very spot where his mama's bowl sat not long ago, but no one in the room is hungry for soup now. I push the image of Ida eating soup from my mind. I should push him off me, tell him to stop, I should also balance my checkbook every month and what are the chances of that happening?

The kettle starts to make more noise, gradually reaching a scream. My arms are around his neck and pulling him toward me. "The kettle," I whisper in his ear.

He reaches and turns the flame off. The kettle subsides, but I feel the steam in the tiny room. His mouth hungrily finds mine. No, Annie, stop, a voice screams in my head, but there's a fire in the pit of my stomach and the heat is spreading to my hips and thighs. I haven't had a man this close since I went for a ride with Tomi and that left me wanting more.

"That's some tongue you have there, Mister Grolsch," I say. "But I want you to stop."

"That's not what your body is saying," he says.

"My body has a mind of its own, but this isn't right. I need more time and I have a rule."

"Again with the rules? I've found they're meant to be broken," he says.

"Not my rules, not now, I just can't until we get Luis back, until I've met with Tomi."

"What the hell does he have to do with it?" Luther angrily asks.

"I'm sorry, but..." I begin.

"He's going to hurt you, Annie," Luther says.

"And you won't?" I ask. "I learned about bad boys a long time ago. We have plenty of them in Texas, you know?" I push against his chest and he reluctantly straightens so I can sit up.

He puts his hands on my waist and looks me in the eye. "You'll know where you stand with me," he says.

I laugh and say, "I don't think I'll do much standing if we don't stop now."

"That couch is getting pretty uncomfortable," he says.

"I'm sorry, but you knew the job description when you took the job. Now, I think the water boiled. I need my tea and an early night." My body quivers involuntarily and he raises his eyebrow.

"You need something stronger than tea," he says.

"Not now. I'm sorry," I say.

He slowly steps back and I'm on my feet on the floor again. Now there's an awkward silence. I have my back to him, afraid to look because I might not be able to stop and he might read my face and see just how good that felt and how badly I wanted it. But I feel guilty enjoying myself when my best friend may be going through hell while I'm screwing the guy who is supposed to rescue him on my kitchen table.

I busy myself making tea and then head into my bedroom. I need to get a grip, calm down, get my priorities straight and I think it's going to take more than chamomile tea to do it. For tonight it's not going to be Luther Grolsch, but I don't know how much longer I can hold out.

I feel like I'm suspended between two men and neither one is the right one, but both are close. I think Tomi wants me, but am I just one of many, or am I really special? It makes a big difference. When I was younger I tried men out to see what they were like and truth be known, I was learning more about me than them. I didn't sleep with every one of them, of course, but if they had something special and hung in there long enough I'd see what was under the hood. When I came to New York I decided that life was no longer a box of chocolates and the candy store would be closed for a while.

As hard as Tomi is to read, Luther is a complete mystery. I know he's bad and there are probably some things in his past I don't want to know about. How did he learn to do what he does and what happened in special forces that got him kicked out? But I find myself drawn to him anyway and if he's so bad, why is he in the business of helping people with his special skills?

I get through half the cup of tea and find I am getting drowsy so I turn out the light. I toss and turn for what seems like hours, but finally start to drift off. As I go under for the last time I imagine I can feel Luther's body against me again, snuggled up to my backside, spooning me, tightly pressed against my back the way Tomi held me or is it Tomi? It doesn't matter because it's only a dream and like Luis said, I'm not responsible for them.

# Chapter 17

As the morning light filters through my drawn curtains I hear the familiar sound of the garbage truck in the lot behind the building. The far off sound of traffic on the street tells me that the working class folks of Queens are setting off to start their day. I let myself drift down a little into that sweet place between being awake and facing life's limitations and almost asleep where anything can happen. I imagine what the night will be like with Tomi. I wiggle my butt and imagine it against the hard warm hips of that sexy Italian. We're moving in motion again, but now there's no horse involved. What would it be like to wake up with him wrapped around me? I moan with delight. He moans in my hair and I feel his hot breath like a whisper on the back of my neck. "Ohhh, Tomi," I moan and pull his arm tighter around me.

"Tomi?" a voice says in my ear.

"AHHHH!" I scream and look over my shoulder into the eyes of Luther Grolsch. I squirm away from him and pull the sheet up to my chin. "What the hell are you doing in my bed? Did you..."

I look under the sheets and the panties I slept in are still in place.

"I told you the couch was getting uncomfortable," Luther calmly says and laughs. "Don't worry, nothing happened. If it did, you'd know it."

I kick with all my might and hit something incredibly hard and solid; he moves a quarter of an inch. It's like trying to kick a truck out of my bed.

"You get out!" I shout. "Sonofabitch!"

He leans against the headboard, his hairy chest and shoulders above the sheet. "This isn't exactly what I expected," he says.

"What the hell did you expect? I told you last night that nothing is going to happen between us."

"Nothing did happen," Luther says. "We just slept in the same bed."

I kick again and wince as my foot smarts. "Ouch!"

"Take it easy. You're awful excitable, aren't you?" he says and laughs.

I sit up beside him as far away from him as possible balancing on the edge. "This is my bed, buster, and I refuse to leave it."

"Fine with me," he says. "You should get a timer for the coffee pot so we could snuggle an extra five minutes while our coffee is brewing," he says.

"Snuggle this!" I say and use the trailer park universal gesture.

"Is that any way for a nice refined lady to act?" he asks.

As if things aren't bad enough my phone that's sitting on the night stand rings and it's Mama's ring tone. Shit.

"Are you going to get that?" he asks.

"No. It's my mama," I say.

He reaches across me and has the phone before I can stop him. "I'll tell her you're busy," he says.

"Don't you dare!" I scream as he pushes the talk button. He drops the phone in my lap and I hear Mama's voice saying "Annie? Annie, are you there?"

As I pick the phone up and put it to my ear I mouth the words, You're Dead! And glare at him. I take a deep breath and try to control my breathing. "Hi, Mama," I say.

"Annie, how are you? We've been worried about you because we heard you attacked Brittany again."

Again? "What do you mean again?" I ask. "I only attacked her once, well I didn't mean it. It wasn't an attack it was an accident," I try to explain.

Evie chimes in, probably from the extension, "You broke her nose, Annie."

"It's not really broken, just bent real bad," I try to explain.

"And then you threw something in her face, dear, why did you do that?" Evie asks.

"I didn't mean to do that," I say. "It was stuck on my hand and I was just trying to get it off."

"Annie," Mama says, "we're trying to understand, but it seems you've been really rough on poor Brittany."

Poor Brittany!

"Why do you hate my little girl?" Evie asks.

While I'm in the throes of explaining that I don't hate Brittany, even though I'm starting to since she's caused all this trouble, Luther is sliding closer and puts his arm around my shoulders. He snuggles close and I'm hanging onto the cording around the mattress with my butt cheeks and elbowing him. He slides his left hand up under my tee shirt and fondles my breast and I scream something that sounds like, "Meek!"

He laughs and jumps away.

"Annie? Are you alright?" Mama asks. "Annie, what's happening?"

Mama is having a fit and Luther is laughing. "What happened?" Evie asks.

"It's okay, Mama, I just saw a mouse," I say and push his hand away as he reaches for me. I glare at him and add, "Actually it's a big fat rat!"

"You've got rats!" Mama shrieks. Then I hear Daddy in the background having a fit. There's the sound of the phone being wrestled out of her hand and I hear Daddy say, "For christ sakes, Anne, give me that phone."

"Annie," Daddy says, "you've got rats? What kind of place are you living in?"

"No, Daddy, I don't have rats," I say and sigh. "It's a cat. My neighbor's cat stops by sometimes and it surprised me, that's all. He's a pest," I say and shake my fist at Luther.

Luther rolls off the bed and stands and stretches. He's stark naked and I stare in shock. I have never in my life seen a man like Luther Grolsch.

"Oh, my god!" I blurt out. I think to myself, That is one bad boy!

"Annie, Annie..." I hear Daddy saying. The phone is in my lap and my chin is on my chest.

Luther casually strolls into the kitchen and seconds later I hear the coffee machine start to brew. Then the shower starts.

"Annie, why are you breathing so hard?" Mama asks. Apparently she's gotten the phone off Daddy.

"I'm doing housework while I talk to you?" I say.

She and Evie simultaneously say, "Really?"

"Don't sound so surprised," I say. "I do housework... sometimes."

"Yes, of course you do," Mama says without conviction.

"I wish you girls could get along with each other," Evie says. So we're back to that?

"Evie," I say, "Brittany is still working with me at Di Ponti. We were just in a meeting with the owner the other day and everything is good. She's getting along with him really well."

"Yes, I know she and Tomi are getting along real well," Evie says and laughs and for a moment I'm reminded of the old Evie who went through men like a kid in a candy store. Tomi? I hope that's just Brittany embellishing the truth again.

"She called me from his farm last night," Evie says. "Have you seen his farm, Annie?"

I haven't even gotten out of bed yet and my day has gone from bad to worse, to the hell with it, where's the cyanide?

"Yes, Evie," I answer. "I've seen his farm. I know all about the farm." And I get the sinking feeling that I do, but there's always the chance that Brittany is lying through her teeth. Maybe she knows that her mother will tell me these things so she's feeding them to her. Well two can play that game.

"Evie, when Tomi comes here later I'll put in another good word for Brittany. Don't worry."

"Oh, you're seeing him later?" Mama asks.

"Yes, he's coming here for dinner," I say.

There is a stunned silence on the other end of the phone.

"I can cook you know!" I say.

"Of course you can, dear," Mama says.

"Really?" Evie asks and then I hear her whispering to Mama, "I thought you said she couldn't boil water."

Mama whispers back, "Well maybe she's been taking lessons."

"You do both realize I can hear you?" I ask. There's an awkward silence.

"We have to go to prayer meeting," Mama says.

"Mama, it's seven o'clock in the morning there. What kind of prayer meeting do they have at seven in the morning?" I ask.

"Evie and I started a special group..." Mama says.

"For mothers with daughters," Evie adds.

"It just keeps growing and growing," Mama says.

"I'll bet it does," I say. "I love you, Mama and Daddy. Good bye, Evie," I add and hang up.

"Is it really worth getting out of bed?" I ask the walls. Luther appears in the doorway with two steaming cups of coffee and the aroma hits me. Maybe.

"You want these in bed or shall we move to the kitchen?" he asks and grins, "By the way, how's Mom?"

The towel he has wrapped around his waist slips and he says, "Oops."

"If I sit at the table with you and drink coffee as if we're two sane people will you put some clothes on?" I ask.

He nods.

"Good," I say, "Because we have some things to discuss such as boundaries and house rules."

"I don't think I'm going to like this conversation," Luther says as he sits down at the table a few minutes later. "What is it with you and your rules?"

"I wouldn't need so many rules if there weren't people like you in the world," I say. "I bet you were never a Boy Scout, were you?"

He actually looks hurt.

"Oh, come on," I say and roll my eyes. "You and I know you don't give a shit about Boy Scouts or any other organization with rules or standards."

"Were you really dreaming about that guy this morning?" he asks.

"You don't have to sound so shocked," I say. "You're trying to change the subject."

"Have you any idea what it does to a man's pride to be naked in bed with a woman and have her moaning another guy's name out loud?"

"Have you any idea what it's like to be a woman and wake up with some uninvited gorilla in your bed?" I ask. "It's creepy."

"You didn't seem very creeped out when we were playing tonsil hockey in the kitchen just hours before that," he says. "If it wasn't for that tea pot you and I might have swapped more than insults for once."

"I'm warning you, stay out of my bed and my bedroom..." I begin.

"Until I'm invited?" he asks.

"Don't hold your breath waiting for that to happen. I'm meeting with Tomi today and I don't want anything to go wrong. I don't want to hurt your feelings and god knows I don't think it's possible, but I kind of have a thing for Tomi and I don't have anything for you."

"Pretty cruel and to the point," he says and shakes his head.

"It is what it is," I say.

"That's one of the dumbest things I've ever heard people say," he says. "I hate that saying."

"I'll bet you've heard it plenty."

"That couch really is uncomfortable and could hurt my performance... not that performance," he says when I make a moue with my mouth. "I mean when I have to rescue Luis."

"If that ever happens again I'll tell your mama," I say.

"Jesus, you really do play hard ball, don't you?" he says.

"I swear, I'll tell, Ma."

"Okay, okay, I'll try to resist your siren charms, that magnetic attraction, that..."

"I get the picture," I say, "do you?"

He nods stiffly.

"Good, now let's talk about tonight when Tomi is here and you're not."

"Oh, no you don't," he says. "This is where we put on the brakes. I'm here to protect you and that's just what I'm going to do."

"You said it yourself, Luther, you can't protect me from a broken heart. I have to see this through. I also need to make plans with Tomi. He's my boss and the key to my future."

Luther shrugs. "Okay, suit yourself. I'll hide in the bedroom."

"Can't you just wait outside?" I ask. "I don't want you inside while Tomi is here."

Luther frowns and goes silent on me. I wait.

"Well?" I ask.

"I guess so."

# Chapter 18

True to his word Luther calls his mother and explains the situation to her. By six thirty there's a commotion in the hallway that sounds like a trash can full of bricks rolling down the stairs and then a knock at the door. Ida appears and says Luther should carry the bags up. She looks around at the apartment and I expect her to put on a white glove and check for dust. Instead she smiles at me and says in her flat, nasal, window rattling voice, "You've got a man coming?"

"Yes. I do," I say.

She studies my face and beams at me. She reaches out and pats my cheek. "I can see by that smile he's a special man."

I can't help but beam back at her and think I'm even blushing.

"Well, you've got to hang onto him," she says. "That was always my problem. Luther's father just disappeared. I've got some good food for you, though, so maybe you'll catch him."

Luther walks through the door with two shopping bags and places them on the counter. Ida starts pulling Tupperware bowls out of the bags.

"This is droge wurst, it's a metworst sausage and very strong, but good. You serve it after the hachee which is this stew. Serve the droge with the stamppot. That's the vegetables and potatoes with a little bacon for flavor. Wash it all down with this," she says and holds a six pack of Dutch beer. "Men like meat and beer," Ida says as though she's just solved the riddle of the ages.

She slaps Luther's hand as he lifts a lid on one of the bowls and says, "Keep him out of it. That's the dessert. It's bolus made with ginger. You'll have to warm the syrup to pour over it. You can just put it in a small pan and warm it on the stove."

"Or nuke it," Luther adds and taps the microwave.

Ida looks at him like he's an idiot.

"What?" he asks.

"You don't use one of those to make good food," Ida sniffs and looks at the microwave as though it just made muddy footprints on her clean floor.

"That's it," she says.

"It smells fantastic, Ida," I say and give her a hug.

"You get lost," she says to Luther.

"What?" he asks.

"I said, get lost," she says. "Annie and I have some girl talk to take care of and you need to be out of here."

"Yes," I say. "Tomi will be here soon."

After Luther leaves the apartment Ida says, "Is he behaving himself?"

"Yes," I say. It's not exactly a lie. He is behaving, more or less. I'm not even sure that I totally disapprove of his boyish antics. I made it clear that I was hornier than a toad when I wrapped my legs around him and parked my ass on the kitchen table. What he did was just a natural progression. My tongue went just as far as his did.

"Okay, I'm just checking. You know how men are?" Ida says and clucks her tongue. I don't know what Pop Grolsch did but it certainly left Ida with a low opinion of men. "He's only human," Ma says as if it's a class C misdemeanor.

"Here's a red envelope and a card. Luther asked me to bring it. You go outside for a minute like you're getting a breath of fresh air and drop it on the sidewalk in front of your building. Luther will be watching so you'll be safe and he'll see who picks it up. If it's one of the Rigatoni men you'll have made contact."

"What should I say?" I ask.

"Tell them to call you in the morning. You don't want to be bothered while you're dealing with your man," she says, "but we have to get a move on to save Luis."

"I'll leave first and then you come down and drop the card. We better hurry so you'll be ready for Tomi. Good luck, Annie."

After Ida leaves I pull some pots and pans from the cupboard and rinse the dust out of them. Then I fill them with the food and place it all on the stove as though I just cooked it all. What Tomi doesn't know won't hurt him. While my mama wouldn't approve, I'm sure Ida does.

I walk downstairs and stroll up and down in front of the apartment for a minute and then drop the envelope. I see a large patch of leather in the window of the deli and figure Luther is on the job. It's comforting. There's enough man there to make three Rigatoni.

I'm upstairs for a few minutes and there's a knock at the door. It's Tomi in a topcoat and gray fedora. I let him in and take the coat for him and hang it in the closet. His suit is gray with a little blue highlight in it. A tight fitting silk, I'd say, with a teal tie and gleaming white shirt. He looks like he just stepped off the pages of GQ. The five o'clock shadow against his tanned and chiseled chin will leave my face raw and itching, I hope.

He takes a deep breath and says, "What is that aroma?"

"It's a little something I whipped up for us," I say and smile at him. A little white lie won't hurt especially since I've got Mama working overtime to pray me into heaven. I take him by the arm and lead him to the couch. The afghan has been stashed in a drawer. I thought of putting it on the bed, but maybe hiding something on my bed isn't such a great idea. You never know.

When I'm avoiding Luther by sitting at the end of the couch it seems too short, but with Tomi the opposite is true. It seems incredibly long as I sit beside him. "Tonight we're eating Dutch food. So wine is out, but I've got some good beer. Would you like one?" I ask.

"Yes, that would be nice," he says.

I bring two beers and two glasses from the refrigerator. I almost forgot the glasses. I didn't even know that people poured beer out of a perfectly good container just to dirty a glass until I moved to New York. In West Texas we call a beer bottle a Texas stein. Daddy always said that bottles are for special occasions; otherwise he drank from a can.

I just can't help myself and have to ask, "How's Brittany doing?"

"She's fine. She's a real trooper," Tomi says. "Her nose is coming along well and she's been offering some good suggestions to help with the marketing. I'd like you to be more involved with that as well."

"I'd love to go over things with you," I say and smile. Real trooper my foot.

"Maybe the three of us could have a meeting," he suggests and smiles.

"That sounds good," I lie through my teeth. Pray for me, Mama.

There's a moment of silence as Tomi sips his beer and I take a sip of mine.

"Good beer," Tomi says.

"Thanks."

"Are you Dutch? I thought McCauley was an Irish name," he says.

"Yes, it is, Irish American." I say.

"But you have some Dutch in you?" Tomi asks.

I almost had a lot of Dutch in me on the table and then in my bed, I think to myself. That's it, Annie, you've got a fantastic hunk is sitting beside you on the couch and you're thinking about that pain in the ass, Luther Grolsch?

"I guess I have a little Dutch," I say and smile sweetly.

"Shall we eat?"

Tomi and I sit at the table and I ladle out food. It smells fantastic and he keeps complimenting me on my cooking skills. I feel like a fraud, but what the heck, I've got to use everything I can to keep one step ahead of that man stealing redhead. An hour later he pushes his plate away after his second helping of bolus and says, "I can't eat another mouthful. I'll have to work out an extra hour tomorrow, but it was worth it."

We wind up back on the couch. His jacket is on the back of the kitchen chair and his tie is loosened. He puts his arm around my shoulders and says, "Annie, I have a problem."

Oh, boy, when boys said that to me in high school it was usually to complain that they needed sex because they were in pain or something like that.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"I'm more attracted to you than any woman I've ever met," he says. "I get the feeling that you feel something, too."

"Why is that a problem?" I ask.

"For several reasons," he says. "First of all, I'm your boss and I get the feeling you don't want to sleep with me because of that."

Whoo, I suck in a deep breath. Old Tomi doesn't waste any time.

While I'm still reeling from that he says, "Secondly, I think you're very jealous of Brittany. I think you have a problem."

"Hello," I say. "I have a problem? You do remember that I warned you about her, right? Do you remember that she glued my ass to a toilet seat?"

"Calm down, please, take it easy."

"I'm sorry. You're right," I say. "It's just that I was hoping you came here to talk about us and not Brittany." Yeah, right, Annie and you can say that while you're sitting here thinking about that damned Luther.

"Well, that's the point," Tomi says. "There is absolutely nothing between Brittany and me. I wanted to make that clear. That's the only reason I brought her up at all."

"Okay, let's not talk about her anymore," I say. "But I do have to ask you one more question."

"Yes," he says and pulls me closer to him.

"Has she been to your farm?"

Did he just stiffen a little? I watch his eyes and wait for his answer.

"Yes," he answers. "But it was just a business meeting to trade ideas. You know I like to get to my farm on the weekends." He puts his other hand on my shoulder and turns me to him. He kisses me on the lips and a rush goes through me. It's heat wave time in Queens, folks. The fire in my belly spreads and my hips twitch. My mind goes blank and Brittany whats-her-name is a long lost memory.

I push myself against him and melt into Tomi's arms. He breathes in my ear and the hair on my neck and arms stands up as a chill goes down my spine and collides with the heat moving up. I smell that bergamot cologne of his and begin to lose all sense of time and place. His tongue is on my neck and in my ear and I feel my blouse slip off my shoulder.

As I lay back he effortlessly swivels and is on top of me, my legs around his hips. Those tight fitting pants can't hide his excitement from me and I'd swear he's got Lucy hiding in there. He's panting now, his solid chest heaving and his weight pushes me down into the cushions. I fumble with his buckle while he unsnaps my pants.

Our tongues wrap around each other and I taste sweet juices and lips that wash away all thought.

Suddenly, someone is banging on my door. "Ignore it," Tomi says.

The banging becomes louder. "Pizza," a familiar voice calls.

"We didn't order pizza," Tomi calls back.

The banging grows louder, insistent. "Pizza!"

"We didn't order a goddammed Pizza!" Tomi shouts.

"Is this the Annie McCauley residence?" the voice asks.

"Yes," I answer.

"Well you got a pizza here, lady," he says. "It's twenty three ninety five... plus tip."

"Go away!" Tomi shouts.

"My neighbors are going to think there's something going on," I say. "Shhh."

More banging then, "Your pizza is getting cold."

Tomi rises above me. "I'll give him a pizza," he angrily growls.

"No, please, no trouble," I say and place my hand on his chest. I snap my pants and get off the couch. I walk to the door trying to straighten my hair out with my hand.

I open the door and there's Luther Grolsch wearing a red tee shirt with a pizza logo and a red baseball cap. "I'm a master of disguise," he says.

"You're a disaster in disguise," I say through clenched teeth.

"Good one."

"You are so fucking dead," I hiss at him. "Wipe that foolish grin off your face."

"That's twenty three..."

"Yes, I know twenty three ninety five..."

"Plus tip," he adds and leans against the door frame with one hand while balancing a large pizza box with the other.

"How's it going in there?" he whispers, trying to peek around the door.

I glare and mouth the words, GET LOST, YOU BASTARD!

"Isn't it time for Tomi to go home?" he asks. "We've got a busy day planned for tomorrow and you'll need your rest," he whispers.

"Annie, is everything alright?" Tomi asks from behind me.

"It's fine," I say over my shoulder.

Luther pulls me out of the door so fast I can't react except to pull the door shut behind me. Then he pulls me to him and kisses me on the lips. His lips are hot and moist and firm while his tongue is probing and insistent.

"You bastard," I say as I try to catch my breath.

I open the door to go in and he says, "Don't forget your pizza."

He opens the cover and two slices are missing. I look at him questioningly and he says, "I was hungry."

"Mind your own business," I say.

He puts his hand on my arm and says, "You're moving too fast. It wouldn't hurt to slow down."

"This from the Tony Stewart of lovers," I say.

"Who?" he asks.

"Nascar, it's a redneck thing," I say and sigh.

"Send him home, Annie," he says.

I take the pizza and as I'm walking through the door he says, "You'll thank me in the morning."

"But first I'll kill you tonight," I say.

Tomi is sitting on the couch when I come back from putting the pizza in the kitchen. "What was that all about?" he asks.

"Drunken pizza man," I say.

"You should have let me deal with him," he says.

"It's alright," I say, "but it did kind of ruin the mood."

He reaches out to me and tries to pull me to him, but I pull back. "I'm sorry, Tomi," I say. "I think I should just go to bed. We'll continue this another time, maybe when we've gotten to know each other better. This is kind of fast for me."

He sighs and heaves himself off the couch. "Alright... another time... soon." He wraps his arms around me and kisses me gently and tenderly. A reminder of what I'm sending away.

I sigh deeply and hand him his coat.

"Thanks for dinner," he says.

"It was nothing," I say.

A few minutes after Tomi leaves Luther slips through the door. "Whew, that was close," he says. "Hey, where's that pizza?"

"Not so fast, Luther Grolsch," I say. "I'm mad at you."

"Trust me, I did you a favor," he says. He goes to the kitchen and helps himself to a slice of pizza. "Is there any droge left?" he asks.

"Your timing is terrible," I say.

"I thought it was perfect," he says.

"You had that pizza ready so you could come barging in here, didn't you?" I ask.

"You certainly are a suspicious woman," he says.

"I'm no fool, Luther. You had that pizza ready and you also knew the exact moment to start banging on that door. How?"

He stops with a piece of pizza poised in front of his mouth.

"You sonofabitch!" I say as it dawns on me. "You bugged my apartment!"

"It was for your own good, Annie," he says as he chews.

"From now on you can call me Miz McCauley. This is strictly a business arrangement and as soon as I can, I'm getting you out of my life, permanently, Luther sonofabitchin' Grolsch!"

"Does your mother know you talk like that?" he asks and smiles.

I open a beer and sit on the couch. Luther takes up his position on the other end of the couch with a beer and a plate of his mama's food.

"I hope you choke," I say.

"It's nice to be home," he says and reaches for the remote.

"In your dreams," I say and snatch it from him. "It's a good night for a nice long chick flick."

"Whatever you say, honey, you're the boss," he says. "Hey, where's Mama's afghan?"

# Chapter 19

--------

We're sitting at the table eating bagels and drinking coffee in silence the next morning when Luther looks at me and says, "You know what you need?"

"Don't start, Luther," I say.

"No, seriously, Annie. You need a pet," he says.

"I do not need a pet, Luther. I have you and that's bad enough."

"Don't you like animals?" he asks.

"Like I said, I have you Luther," I say.

"If you had a cat or a dog you could get some of that affection you crave."

I look at him over my coffee cup. "Excuse me?"

"Imagine walking in the door and having a nice little dog wagging his tail and wiggling around wanting to be petted," he says.

"Why do I need that when I have a big slob of a Grolsch wiggling around wanting something?"

"That was uncalled for, but I'll forgive you since I know you're kind of frustrated," he says.

"Just eat your bagel," I say. "I'm in no mood."

"Are you ready to admit I was right?" he says.

"Right about what?" I ask.

"That I was right that you shouldn't go too far with that gigolo Di Ponti," he says.

"How could he be a gigolo?" I ask. "He's rich and I'm poor. Gigolos go after rich women and steal their money."

"But it kind of rhymes with Tomi, doesn't it?"

"Yes, sort of like Luther and pain in the ass rhyme," I say.

"Well, all kidding aside," he says. "We have some serious business today." And just like that Luther's face gets stern and he fastens those blue, humorless eyes on me. "When the phone rings today I want you to demand to see Luis or you won't cooperate. Tell them you need to talk to them, say anything, but get them to take you to Luis."

"Okay, I understand," I say while my heart is having trouble not bouncing off my ribs as I think about the cold, dead eyes of the scar faced leader of the Rigatoni gang. "You'll be close by, right?" I ask.

"Yes. I'll be close. After you go in I'll assess the situation and make a move when the time is right. It may not be until after you come out, but whenever it is, don't worry. I'll get Luis out safe and sound. You'll also have a GPS tracking device on you and I'll know where you are at all times," he adds.

"Okay. Are you going to kill them?" I ask.

"I'll do what I have to do to get Luis out. That's job one. Any collateral damage will be a by-product of that action," he says.

"Why does this all sound like it's so up in the air?" I ask.

"Because it is," he says. "I have to improvise when I see what I'm up against."

"But you're sure you can do it?" I ask and realize that I'm asking the man who watches Woody Woodpecker cartoons if he can protect me from evil men and rescue my friend.

"No problem."

As I'm coming out of the shower I hear my phone ring. I answer and a man with an accent asks, "What do you want?"

"I want to know that my friend, Luis is okay," I say as my heart pounds.

"I told you he'd be okay as long as you do what you're told. You don't listen so good?"

"I listen real good, do you?" I ask and can't believe I just said that. There is a chilling silence on the other end of the line.

"You want to talk to your little friend?" he asks.

"I want to see him and talk to him and I also want to talk to her, the boss," I say. I try to take deep breaths. Diaphragmatic breathing is what it's called and that's what I'm doing though it doesn't seem to help much.

"No. You don't make the rules. We do."

"Then the deal is off," I say.

"What do you want first, his arms or maybe his legs?"

Tears burst from my eyes and I feel myself getting physically sick. I want to click the phone off. Instead I say, "Do whatever you want, but if you hurt him I'll go to the FBI and I'll see to it that Tomi Di Ponti's business is a roaring success and you won't have accomplished a thing. How will you explain that to her?"

"You're a tough woman, hunh?" he asks. "A cowgirl?"

"Yeah, something like that. Don't bother calling me again until you're ready to deal," I say and disconnect.

Luther is grinning at me as I run past him to the sink and lose the bagel. "You did great, Annie," he says.

I wash my mouth out several times and go into the bathroom and brush my teeth. I'm holding my stomach when I come back out. "What now?" I ask.

"We wait," he says.

An hour later my phone rings again.

The same voice says, "Downstairs in five minutes. Any funny business and we kill pagliaccio."

I'm wearing jeans and a tee shirt with a Lonestar beer logo. I have my hair pulled back and I've slipped it through the back of a Texas Rangers cap. A Yankees cap would help me to fit in better, but I just couldn't do that to Daddy. I have running shoes and Luther has given me a small metal GPS tracking device that I've slipped into my sports bra.

"Are you sure they won't find that?" I ask.

"Relatively sure, yes," he says. He raises his eyebrows and looks at me as if the Rigatoni will respect my person and won't look in my bra.

"Relatively?" I ask. "What happened to don't worry, Annie, everything will be fine, Annie?"

"There are no absolutes in life, but we can play the percentages and usually come out on top. We'll win more than we lose."

"This is no time for sports metaphors and gambling," I say.

He kisses me and hugs me and says, "Don't worry. It'll be fine."

--------

I'm standing at the curb in front of my building when the same black limo pulls up and the back door opens. One of the Rigatoni steps out and looks around nervously. He nods to me and I slide onto the seat. He gets in beside me and we're off.

"Where are we going?" I foolishly ask.

The little guy chuckles and shakes his head.

"Yeah, dumb question, huh?" I say.

Once again, they don't bother to blindfold me but it seems to be taking a long time to get where we're going with lots of turns. They're probably trying to make sure they're not being followed. I feel us go over several bridges. We finally stop and the door opens. As far as I can tell it isn't the same brick building, but it is the same color and as shabby looking. We enter through a metal fire door, me and my two escorts. I try to brace myself and tell myself that no matter how bad Luis looks and no matter what they've done to him, it'll all be over soon and we'll get him the best doctors and...

Then we walk into a back room after crossing a large cement floor and there's Luis, sitting at a table with a handful of cards.

"Marcos," he says, "it's up to you."

"I'll see you," the pock marked face leader says.

Luis puts his cards down and Marcos curses and slams his cards down. "Sunumabitcha," he says.

Luis laughs and scoops up a pile of money off the table. Then he looks up and squeals, "Annie!"

I stand shocked as he runs to me and hugs me tightly.

When Marcos looks up he looks ten years younger. The marks on his face are almost completely gone or hidden. He smiles brightly, chuckles, and says, "Whaddya think about this guy?"

The only thing I can manage to say to Luis is, "You gave him a facial?"

Marcos beams at me and waves his finger tips at his face. "Whaddya think? Pretty good, no?"

My jaw is hanging down and Luis leads me to the table. One of the Rigatoni gets up and I sit in the chair.

Marcos looks at me and the humor leaves his eyes. "Whaddya gotta make trouble for?" he asks. "He's okay... see?" he nods at Luis. "I thought we had a deal." His beady black eyes are locked on me.

"I missed him and I was worried. He's my best friend," I say.

"Well, now you know he's okay, so no more funny business. Now what can you tell me about Di Ponti? What's he got up his sleeve?"

Good question, Annie, I say to myself, what can you tell him? You better make it good.

"Not so fast, Marcos," I say. "I told you I want to meet her. I want to meet the real boss."

I'm aware that someone has been standing in the shadows while we've been talking. I expect Brittany to come forward and laugh in my face the way she always has when she's had me beaten, but I gasp when the figure steps forward.

"You?" I say.

She towers over the group of Rigatonis standing around her, adoringly looking at her, and glaring at me.

"Well if it isn't Snow White," I say. "Just tell me one thing, Miz Hopkins, which one is Grumpy?"

"All of them so you better quit the bullshit and start cooperating," Miz Hopkins says. "Surprised, aren't you?"

"A little," I say.

"Good," she says and laughs. "I don't plan on being a receptionist all my life. I've got plans and they take money."

"I don't get it," I say. "How is this going to help you?"

"There are some very rich people who don't want your precious pal, Tomi, to succeed," she says.

"And who would they be?" I ask.

She opens her mouth to speak and stops when a metallic object comes rolling past me and stops in the center of the room.

"Shit!" Marcos yells and all I see is assholes and elbows as Rigatoni scatter like rats.

Then there's a flash and a cloud of smoke and I'm drifting in silence though my ears feel like they're vibrating and there's a drumming sound in my head. I'm numb but I feel myself hit the concrete floor as the table and chairs are thrown back.

Time stops and soon I'm being moved. Something has started to lift me and move me and then I realize it's a man and I'm in his arms. As he places me on the cool ground outside the metal door I look up into the smiling face of Luther Grolsch. His lips are moving, but I can't hear anything but a loud ringing in my ears. I lie back down and look up at the sky, watching white clouds flying by and soon he's back with Luis in his arms. Luis has his hands around Luther's neck and he's grinning foolishly.

Luther's face is close to mine, but his voice comes from far away as he says. "Don't worry. Your hearing will come back after a while." From even farther away I hear Luis say, "Are you an angel?" I hear Luther laugh. And then I lie back down to watch the clouds. My body is still vibrating from the shock of the explosion.

Then it hits me, You blew me up, you sonofabitch, Luther Grolsch.

He puts us in an SUV and drives out of the parking lot. We're going over bridges and driving back into Queens and I'm lying there watching traffic waiting for the ringing to stop. I still can't hear well when we pull up in front of our building. Luther sits and waits for us to get out. I'm in the passenger seat and Luis is sitting behind us. Luis must have gotten more of the blast because there is black soot on his face and his eyebrows are singed. I look back at him and mouth the words, He blew us up. He stares at me, his eyes wide open and a dumb look on his face.

Luther patiently waits for us to get out of the SUV. He smiles at me and is saying something, but I can't hear him. "YOU BLEW US UP, YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" I scream and it sounds like my voice is coming from a great distance through a long tunnel. Then I'm hitting him with my fists. His jaw drops and he puts his hands up to protect himself. I'm beating against his arms trying to get to his face. Tears and snot are running down my face. Finally, I stop, exhausted. Luis and I get out and trudge up the stairs. On the second floor Mr. Nussbaum's door opens and he stares, his jaw and bathrobe hanging open. I read his lips, "What the hell happened to you?" he asks.

"He blew us up," a faraway voice says.

We walk into Luis's apartment and I plop down on the couch. Luis goes to the kitchen and comes back with two bottles of wine. He opens them both and hands one to me. We both chug wine and sit on the couch staring off into space. I feel something on my shoulder. It's Luther's palm and he's mouthing the words, Are you all right?

I answer with one finger. He smiles and nods.

--------

I wake up on Luis's couch the next morning. It was a strange night. I dreamt of little guys in black trench coats and hats carrying those old fashioned bombs that are round and black with a lit fuse sticking out like the guys in Mad magazine. Luis stumbles out of his bedroom and waves at me. I wave back. "How are you?" he shouts but it sounds like a whisper.

"I'm great," I shout back.

"Who the hell is that guy?" he shouts.

"Luther, fucking, Grolsch! An idiot," I shout.

Luis nods in agreement. "Why did he blow us up?"

"I hired him," I say.

"To blow us up?" Luis screams.

"No, to rescue you," I say.

Luis nods his head, frowns, and sarcastically says, "Good plan."

I shrug. "Well at least you're safe and home."

"True," Luis says.

He makes cafe con leche and we sit and sip for a while.

"Is that a knock on the door?" I ask.

Luis stops and listens. "I don't hear anything."

"I think someone is at the door," I say. We're still shouting and yet we barely hear each other.

Luis goes to the door and looks through the peephole. "I see a belt buckle and two acres of chest, so it must be that monster Grolsch."

"Don't let that sonofabitch in," I shout.

Luis comes back to the couch and we sit. Then Luther is with us.

"How the hell did you do that?" I shout at him.

"I guess you didn't hear me knocking," he says and pulls something small from his pocket. He holds it so we can see it. "Lock picks," he explains.

"Why did you do that?" Luis asks.

"I had to get in the door," Luther explains.

"No, I don't mean, why did you pick the lock? I mean, why did you blow us up?"

"Oh, that," he says.

"Yeah," Luis says, "That!"

"It was just a concussion grenade. No permanent damage, just a little ringing in the ears."

"A little ringing in the ears?" Luis screams. "My fucking ears were bleeding."

"I'm sorry about that," Luther says. "I didn't mean to roll it so close to you, but I had to hit the center of the room. You just happened to be standing there. You don't seem very grateful."

We both sit and gape at him.

"Maybe this is a bad time," Luther says. "Any of that coffee left?"

Luis and I doze off and on and regain our strength. I awake several times during the day to find Luther sitting in the room watching us. Late in the afternoon I awaken to the aroma of food.

"Are you hungry?" Luther asks.

"Your voice sounds almost normal," I say.

"The effects of the grenade are only temporary. I told you that."

"Yes, Luther, you told me after you blew me up. You didn't say, I'm going to blow you up to get Luis out safely. You said something about neutralizing and extricating..."

"My exact words were, we go in fast and hard and neutralize the kidnappers and secure the package. And you asked, What does that mean in people talk?

"And I said, We invade their space rapidly. We make them so they can't do any harm to the captive and we extricate him from the situation."

"You didn't mention a bomb," I say.

"Well how do you stop a roomful of men who are armed and dangerous from hurting people in the room or fighting back unless you take them out?" he asks patiently.

"I guess I didn't think of that. I trusted you," I say.

"And I did what I said I'd do. I got Luis and you out safely. No bloodshed and no permanent damage."

"What?" Luis says as he sits up on his end of the couch.

Luther smiles at him and as Luis's eyes focus he jumps back and snatches the throw up around him. "Don't come near me!" he shouts at Luther.

"It's all right, Luis," I say, "he isn't going to do anything."

"I brought food," Luther says. "A peace offering." He holds his hand out to Luis and says, "Friends?"

"Don't look at me," I say to Luis. "It's up to you, but he is awful handy to have around when there are nasty people in the picture."

"What about the Rigatoni?" Luis asks.

"Still out there, I'm afraid," Luther says. "I had to get you both out of there and by the time I got back, they were gone."

"That freaky bitch with the pasty skin, too?" Luis asks.

"Yeah, Miss Hopkins got away, too, but I guarantee she won't show her face around Di Ponti again," Luther says.

Luis reaches out hesitantly and shakes Luther's paw.

"My god! What big hands you have," he says.

"All the better to protect you with," Luther says and grins.

"On one condition," Luis says.

"And that would be?" Luther asks.

"No more bombs!" Luis says. "I still have some ringing in my ears..."

"Yeah, like I said, a little ringing in your ears," Luther says. "Now let's eat. Ma sent some food over."

# Chapter 20

--------

"I've got to meet your mother," Luis says to Luther as he eats the last bite of his pastry and washes it down with coffee.

Luther smiles and says, "I'm sure you will, eventually."

We're sitting at Luis's table speaking in near normal voices as the effects of the grenade have finally worn off.

"You know, Luther," Luis says, "I could help you to hide those scars on your face."

"I realize that, Luis," Luther says, "but in my profession a few scars aren't a bad thing. They're like advertising. They make the client wonder what happened to the other guy."

"Are you going after the Rigatoni family and Hopkins?" I ask.

"No, for now I have to stay with you and protect you and it's harder now because I have two people. I want you to stay close to each other, if possible. We can travel together and all sleep in the same apartment."

"Ooooh," Luis says and giggles.

Luther smiles and there's that boyish twinkle in his eyes. I know Luis is becoming a victim of the Grolsch charm.

"But there will be times when we'll be apart," I say.

"Sometimes Ma will be with one of you when you have to go to work," Luther says. "You'll be safe with her."

Luis looks at me questioningly and I say, "She has a presence."

"Well put," Luther says and nods.

"I have some very good news for you, Luis," I say. "The catastrophe of the premier of the Czarina line actually got tons of press and publicity and was well received. They didn't know it wasn't staged and they thought it was hilarious and it was a hit."

"Are you kidding me?" Luis says.

"Not only that," I say, "but Tomi hired me back and I renegotiated our contracts."

"Really?" Luis says. "You fascinate me Miz McCauley, please continue."

"Guess who has a brand new Porsche?"

"You got another Porsche?" he asks.

"No, I kept the one I had, but I got one for you," I say.

Luis's mouth drops open and he gasps. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"No I'm not," I say.

"I'm in shock," Luis says.

"And I got us both a one hundred percent raise so we're making twice as much," I add.

Luis sits stunned. Then he looks nervously at Luther, turns his head away a little and says to me, "How are you and Tomi doing?"

Luther loudly clears his throat and starts to clear the dishes away, taking them to the sink.

"That's kind of a sore spot," I say. "Tomi and I were close to breaking rule number twenty seven."

Luis gasps.

"Until a certain pizza guy came banging on the door."

We both look at Luther.

"What?" he innocently asks.

"You're kidding," Luis says. "At least you brought good pizza, right?"

"Of course," Luther says. "All the pizza in Queens is good."

"Well, I'm glad we finally came to a meeting of the minds," I say. "I was afraid if we got started that we'd never determine who had the best pizza in Queen and I'm more concerned about the fact that he stuck his nose in my business where it didn't belong," I say and point at Luther.

"I did you a favor," he says.

"Tomi is hot," Luis says.

"You, too?" Luther asks. "The guy is a rich phony and I don't want to see her get hurt. He's a player."

Luis smiles slyly and says, "Oh, I get it."

"Get what?" Luther asks.

"You've got the hots for Annie."

Luther looks at me and smiles.

"In your dreams," I say.

"You didn't say that when I had you on the table," Luther says and chuckles.

Luis gasps and clutches his chest.

"It isn't as bad as it sounds," I say.

"You were moaning and..." Luther begins.

"What happened? Are we talking kitchen table? Not mine?" Luis asks and jumps back from the table as though it's covered in sex germs.

"Nope, her table," Luther says.

Luis breathes a sigh of relief.

"I hired you and your mama because the ad said discreet," I say.

Luther smiles and winks at Luther. "She's right. A gentleman never tells."

"Well, I have to know what happened," Luis says.

"Nothing happened," I say. "There's nothing to tell."

"We were interrupted by the steam," Luther says.

"Steam, oh my god, No!" Luis gasps. "There was steam!"

"We were interrupted from the kettle on the stove," I say.

"And later on by her mama's phone call when we were in bed," Luther adds.

Luis is shaking his head and grinning. "Annie, I have to know, have you broken any of the rules?"

"Not a one," I say proudly. "As far as the bedroom scene is concerned, the creep snuck into my bed uninvited and that won't be happening again."

"Well," Luther says and shrugs his shoulders.

"Ever!" I say.

"Annie, how do you do it?" Luis says. "You have two fantastic men chasing after you and I can't get them to look at me."

Luther looks curiously at Luis's hair and piercings and says, "That's hard to believe."

"Isn't it?" Luis innocently asks.

"Could we possibly get back to the subject of the Rigatoni creeps and that bitch, Hopkins?" I ask.

"Sure," Luther says.

"I think her first name is Leah," I say. "I have to warn Tomi about her."

"I doubt she'll go back to Di Ponti now that she's been exposed," Luther says. "They'll lay low for a while and regroup."

"I should still call him and warn him and I also need to start working again. I've got an exclusive contract so I can't take any other work, but I know he needs me to shoot another promo. I also need to know what's going on with Brittany. I would have bet my Porsche that she was working with the Rigatoni gang and what are you shaking your head and grinning about now, Luther Grolsch?"

"You sure seem to have it in for that poor woman," he says.

"Uh-oh," Luis groans and cringes.

"Poor woman? Don't get me going on Brittany," I say hotly.

"No," Luis chimes in, "Don't get her going on Brittany... please."

"She's a snake!" I say.

"A real bitch," Luis adds.

"You seem to give as good as you get," Luther argues. "You might want to work on that temper of yours."

"What is it about men?" I ask Luis. "They can't ever see how evil she is."

He just shrugs and looks at me.

"She's probably with Tomi right now trying to wrap him around her little finger," I say. "I have to call him."

--------

Greta answers the phone when I call. "Hello, Greta, it's me, Annie McCauley," I say.

"I know who it is," she says without enthusiasm.

"I'd like to speak to, Tomi. Miz Hopkins isn't there is she?"

"Well which one do you wish to speak to, Mister Di Ponti or his receptionist?" Greta asks.

"Like I said, I want to talk to Tomi, but I'm also making sure that Miz Hopkins isn't there," I explain.

There's a pause and Greta asks suspiciously, "How did you know that Miss Hopkins didn't show up today?"

"Just let me talk to Tomi and I'll explain to him," I say.

"Did you do something to Leah?" Greta asks.

"No, I didn't do anything to her, but she was blown up," I say.

"What?"

"Just let me talk to Tomi, for crissakes and quit with the third degree," I angrily say.

"He's busy," she says.

"He'll want to talk to me and if you don't get him on the phone, when he finds out that you stonewalled me he's going to be pretty pissed. He may even be in danger," I say.

There's another pause and then Tomi answers, "Hello, Annie, is that you?"

"Tomi, thank god you're all right," I say.

He laughs and says, "Annie, you're so dramatic all the time."

"You won't think I'm a drama queen when you hear what I have to tell you," I say. I proceed to tell him the whole story of his evil receptionist and the Rigatoni and Luis's kidnapping.

"My god," he says. "Annie, are you sure that you and Luis are okay? Are you safe now?"

"Yes," I say. "Luther is still with us."

"Leah Hopkin?" he asks. "I just can't believe it.. I'm so glad you're safe now. You should have told me."

"I wanted to, Tomi, but I was afraid you'd go to the police or that the Rigatoni would find out I'd told you. You had a spy right in your office. Tell me this, how much confidence do you have in Greta?"

"I trust Greta completely," Tomi says. "You don't have to worry about her."

"Okay."

"I'd like to meet this Luther Grolsch," Tomi says. "I'd also like to have a private meeting with you. There's something I'd like to discuss with you. A personal matter, if you know what I mean."

"I think I do," I say, "and I agree that there are things we need to talk about. We need to get things out in the open."

"Yes, I agree. Can you come into my office now?"

"I'll be there in about an hour," I say, "probably with Luther."

"By all means, I'd like to meet him, but you and I need a private conversation."

--------

An hour later, Luther and I are in Tomi's office. A somewhat subdued Greta has led us into the inner sanctum and Tomi rushes to hug me. I melt into his arms. There's so much I want to say, but there's a four hundred pound gorilla in the room that has to be dealt with.

"So," Tomi says, smiles, and holds his hand out to Luther, "this is your guardian angel?"

Luther shakes his hand and offers a grimace-like smile.

I cringe and say, "Well, he's my guardian, anyway."

Luther winks at me and says, "I've been with her night and day."

"That couch must be awfully uncomfortable for a big man like you," Tomi says.

"Couch?" Luther asks.

"He doesn't mind sleeping on the couch," I say and glare at him. "Do you, Luther?"

"No," he says. "But the bed is more comfortable."

Tomi looks at him uncertainly, frowns and says, "I'm really grateful for what you've done for Annie." He puts his arm around my shoulders. It's a subtle, but effective way to say, Okay, she's mine and you can go now.

Unfortunately for Tomi, he doesn't know that Luther could care from subtle.

"Just doing my job," Luther says.

"From what I've heard you're very good at what you do," Tomi says.

"I am," Luther says and leers at me.

Tomi shifts on his feet and clutches me tighter. "It was a difficult job."

"It had its perks," Luther says and winks at me.

"Oh?" Tomi says.

"Well, from now on you'll be working for Di Ponti, since you're protecting our employee, so we'll see what kind of perks we can come up with for you, Luther," Tomi says.

The smile fades from Luther's face and the lasers in his eyes go on high power. He bores them into Tomi and says, "I work for Annie. She hired us and we have a contract with her."

"But I insist," Tomi says. "I'm taking up the contract now and you work for me."

"No."

"What?" Tomi asks.

"I said, no," Luther says.

Tomi has stiffened and is holding me so tightly my arm hurts. Luther is rigid and they're glaring at each other like two rutting elk.

There's a pregnant moment. Then Luther says, "When the Grolsch Agency takes on a job we finish it. She hired us to protect her and until the Rigatoni gang, who have a feud with your family, are under control, I'll be staying close."

"This is my problem now. She works for me and we should be providing security for our employee," Tomi says through clenched teeth."

"Can't you both do it?" I ask.

Luther laughs derisively and says, "No. The amateurs he's likely to hire will only get in my way."

"We provide security for our own employees," Tomi says.

"You do?" Luther asks. "Then why did I have to rescue two of them? Your security is a joke."

"We weren't aware of the situation," Tomi says.

"Yeah, exactly," Luther says. "You and your security weren't aware that one of your employees had been kidnapped and another was being terrorized and that you had a mole right here in your office. That's some security."

"Annie, I don't want you to have any more to do with this man," Tomi says.

"Eh?" I ask. "What did you just say?"

"I said I don't want you to have any more to do with him. He's a problem, not a solution. Look at him, for heaven's sake. He's rough and unruly and won't take orders."

"I may not be pretty and smooth like you, Tomi, but when the shit hits the fan, I'm the man to call," Luther says.

Tomi laughs and says, "Get out of my office. Your employment by Miss McCauley is terminated."

"Whoa, just a minute here," I say. "I'll hire and fire my own bodyguard, not you. That's my decision. I may work for you, but I still have a right to hire someone to protect me."

"Exactly," Luther says.

"And you be quiet," I say to him. I wrench Tomi's fingers off my arm and stand apart from them. "You two are arguing over me like I'm a piece of steak. Let's get something straight. I'm my own person. This isn't about keeping me safe, it's about you two and your stupid turf war. Luther is my bodyguard and if you want to talk to his mama, Ida, you can talk to her about my security, Tomi. She's the one I hired and she assigned Luther to protect me. That's the end of it. Now, Luther, you go out and keep Greta company for a while. Tomi and I have some things to discuss."

"I'll be right outside if you need me," Luther says.

"Shooo," I say and motion with my hands and fingers.

Luther reluctantly walks to the door where he looks over his shoulder to glare at Tomi.

"Shoo!" I say.

"Annie," Tomi says, "I have to put my foot down."

"Make sure you don't put it in your mouth, Tomi," I say.

"Be reasonable," he says. "You can't be serious about keeping that jerk around."

"He may be a jerk, but he's my jerk," I say. "He's right, too. He saved me and Luis. He was very professional. I feel a lot safer with him around, although half the time I feel like strangling him."

"Well, see..." Tomi starts.

"I'm not finished. I'm keeping him. (Why do I feel like we're arguing over a puppy?) Call his mother, Ida, and talk to her. You can pay for my security if you want, but it's Luther Grolsch who will be sleeping on my couch."

Tomi says, "You've got to be kidding."

"I'm not kidding. You saw the man, Tomi. Do you think anyone is going to come into my apartment and hurt me when Luther is there? Wel?"

"I guess not," Tomi reluctantly says, "as long as he's on the couch."

I glare at him for a moment and he shifts uncomfortably. "Then it's settled. Now, what did you want to say to me?" I ask.

Tomi puts his arms around me and pulls me tightly against him. I feel the heat of his body and the power in his arms. He bends and kisses me full on the lips. I put my arms around his neck and pull myself up to him. Standing on my toes I push myself into him and rub my breasts on his hard chest and stomach. He moans and guides me to the couch.

I sit and he's sitting with his arms around me. "I want you, Annie," he whispers in my ear.

"How do you want me?" I ask and look into his deep brown eyes. "Are we lovers? Is this serious? Do you do this with other women who work for you?"

"Annie, you make everything so complicated," he says.

"I want you, too, Tomi, but I want you more than once or twice. I need more than that. Otherwise... I just don't know. I'm confused right now."

"In that case, take your time. I'm not going anywhere," he says and kisses me again and again. The heat of his breath on my neck is driving me wild and the burning in my belly surges to my thighs where it tingles and makes me so sensitive when his hand touches my inner thigh I jump.

"I need to go now," I pant.

"Really?" he asks. "Your body is telling me you want to stay... you want more..."

"My body is totally unreliable," I say. "I prefer to listen to the little voices in my head."

I reluctantly push him away and stand. "What's the plan for our next promo?" I ask.

"Really?" he asks. "You're just going to stop now and switch to business? You can do that?"

"I'm going to give it a shot," I say trying to control my breathing. I straighten my dress and say, "What's next?"

He sighs and says, "Okay, Annie, have it your way, but you know that you and I are going to be lovers. We both felt it the day we met."

"I know, I know, I just need some time," I say. "I'm kind of confused right now."

"Does it have something to do with him?" Tomi asks and nods toward the door.

"Luther?" I say and laugh hollowly.

He shrugs his shoulders and stands. "Okay, it's simple. Brittany came up with this idea."

A little voice in my head says, shit! While another one says, Uh-oh!

"She's been very helpful," Tomi says.

"How nice," I say and smile with little enthusiasm.

"We're going to have a costume ball and the Czarina will dress like the peasant girl while the peasant girl will dress like the Czarina. You see? The peasant girl has a dream that she's at a costume party and she is the Czarina. It will offer hope to all those women out there who identify with the poor working woman and who dream of being the Czarina."

"Gee, Brittany thought of that all by herself?" I ask sarcastically.

"Yes, isn't it brilliant?" Tomi asks.

Men can be such schmucks.

"Brilliant," I say.

"I've put her in charge of the project. She's getting the costumes and working with the director we've hired for the shoot," Tomi says.

"My goodness," I say. "She's been a busy girl, hasn't she? And just think, while she was doing all that all I was doing was being kidnapped and blown up for the company."

"I'm glad you insisted that we hire her, Annie."

"Yeah, me too," I say. Annie, you're an idiot! I say to myself while I smile at Tomi.

"She'll call you and give you the details," Tomi says. "We're hiring a mansion for the shoot."

As I leave, Tomi holds me in his arms and looks into my eyes. "When will we have time for just us?" he asks. "I want you."

"I know," I say. "I'll let you know. For now, though, let's just get through this shoot and fix the problems the company has," I hear myself say while a voice in my head is screaming, For god's sakes, just do it!

--------

In the outer office Luther is sitting beside Greta's desk and they seem to be chatting like old chums.

"Did everything go okay?" he asks as we leave. "How's old rule number twenty six doing?"

"Actually," I say, "it's rule number twenty seven and it's doing fine - still not broken."

"Twenty seven? I thought it was twenty six. What's rule number twenty six?" he asks.

"That has to do with kissing cousins who can't keep their mouths shut. That one got broken a long time ago, and I'll thank you never to mention it again," I say. "For god's sake, wipe that shit eatin' grin off your face."

"You Texas girls sure know how to live," he says and chuckles.

# Chapter 21

--------

Luis, bless his heart, insists on cooking dinner for us. We have chicken cordon bleu, a green salad with white wine and cottage pudding. Luther is quiet while we eat and then finally speaks as we're having coffee.

"Annie, I've been debating something and I've come to a decision," he says.

"What is it?" I ask.

"I think you should have these," he says retrieving something from a bag he's been carrying around all day.

"I wondered what you had in the bag," I say.

"Is that a gun and a phone?" Luis asks.

"Do you know how to use a handgun?" Luther asks.

"I can use one like that," I say. "It looks like Daddy's only smaller."

"What does he have?" Luther asks.

"He keeps a Colt Peacemaker revolver under the seat of his truck and another one in his bedroom."

"I think I'd get along good with your Daddy," Luther says and smiles.

"Shame you'll never meet him," I say with a little edge on it.

"Well, you never know, Annie," Luther says and laughs.

"When this is over we'll be parting company..." I begin.

"Will you two quit it and just get to the part about the gun, Luther?" Luis says impatiently.

"Okay," Luther says. "It's a Smith and Wesson thirty eight caliber double action. That's the snub nosed variety. It holds six cartridges and fits in a holster that rides high on your hip or a shoulder holster. In your case, Annie, it fits real nice in a purse."

"It's heavy," I say as I heft it, "but I like the feel of it."

"Yeah, well if you can't hit anything with it you'll be able to use it as a club. I want you to have it, just in case we're separated. I want you to have it with you at all times," Luther says.

"Daddy started me out on a single shot J. C. Higgins twenty two rifle. We'd go plinking at the dump on Saturdays after hours. Mostly we shot cans, but a few rats were in the wrong place at the wrong time and I got them, too. Then he graduated me to a twenty two caliber handgun and finally I got to shoot that Colt of his... what the hell are you smiling about, Luther Grolsch?" I ask. "You find it funny that a woman can shoot?"

"No, I think it's just one more thing I like about you," he says and pats my arm. "Little Annie Oakley from West Texas, ha, ha."

"I don't think Annie Oakley was from Texas," I say, "but you can bet I'm not the only Texas gal who can shoot."

"I can believe that," he says and laughs.

"What's the phone for?" I ask. "I already have one."

"I know, but this one has my number on speed dial and Ma's number is on speed dial, too. I'm afraid someone may have figured out how to tap into yours. This is a burner. They can't trace it to you so they don't know you have it. Keep it with you at all times and if there's an emergency, call for help, immediately."

I hold the Smith in my hand and slide the button forward to swing the cylinder out. There are six cartridges in it.

"Why didn't you leave one out so the hammer would be resting on an empty chamber?" I ask. "Isn't that safer?"

"Maybe, but you're not likely to pull that hammer back or pull the trigger are you?" he asks.

"No."

"Then there's no sense in leaving a chamber empty. An empty chamber is useless. As far as the gun being safer with just five cartridges in it, that's a matter of opinion."

"This is so exciting," Luis says. "Don't I get a gun?"

"How much experience have you had with a gun?" Luther asks.

"None, but I'd like to learn," Luis says.

"I don't think this is a good time for that," Luther says. "I think Annie is the primary target."

"I don't like the sound of that," I say. "There's something about holding a gun and having someone describe you as a target that's unsettling. You don't really think they'll try to kill me, do you?" I ask.

"I don't know what the Rigatoni will do," Luther says. "I think they're all working for someone that we haven't identified yet. If they're brazen enough to kidnap the two of you off a busy street in broad daylight there's no telling what they might do."

"Don't you think it's time we went to the police?" I ask.

"No. They'll only get in the way and they're terrible at actually protecting people. They'll put a uniform outside your building. That just makes it easy for the killer to spot the cop. The cop still doesn't know who the killer is and the killer could walk right past him. The best security is private. Ma and I have our own ways of doing things. If we had time we could go to a shooting range."

"Don't worry, I can shoot," I say.

"I don't doubt it, but there's a big difference between shooting a rat and shooting a man," Luther says.

"Just a bigger rat," I say.

"Very funny," Luther says, "but it's a different story when you're actually looking down the barrel at a man."

"I'll just think of you," I say and smile. "Am I supposed to keep this in the bedroom?" I ask.

"Yes, of course."

"Good, maybe it will keep unwanted pests out."

"You two really do have a thing for each other, don't you?" Luis asks.

"I hope you're being sarcastic," I say to him.

He smiles and shrugs.

--------

We meet at the Di Ponti Building the following day for the run down on the shoot at the mansion. "It's Old Westbury Gardens," Tomi explains. "It's on Long Island, not far from where you live, Annie and Luis. We rented it for two days and nights so we'll have time to set up and stage the costume party."

"Old Westbury Gardens is a famous mansion and just perfect for our party," Brittany explains. "Many movies have shot scenes there including, American Gangster, Eight Millimeter, Wolf, Cruel Intentions, North by Northwest, Love Story, and many more. I fell in love with it the minute I saw it. It's got twenty three rooms and one hundred and sixty acres of grounds."

"You've already seen it?" I ask.

"Yes, Tomi and I took a ride over there. Westbury isn't far at all," Brittany says. "It's a very romantic place," she adds.

"How nice," I say. The weight of the thirty eight in the purse on my lap is reassuring. There's one redheaded rat I wouldn't mind plinking, I think to myself while I smile at her. And speaking of rats, I see Luther didn't miss it, either, because a little smile flickers across his lips. He raises his eyebrows then winks at me across the room. Smart ass.

Brittany is going on about the gardens and how the house was built for a millionaire who inherited a steel company. It's gripping narrative, but I just want to get it over with.

"I'll have your costumes for you when we get there," she says. "So make sure you see me right away. We'll meet there this evening. The crew is there decorating and setting the lights now. It's going to be busy and crowded. We're using Di Ponti employees plus about a hundred extras from Central Casting. Naturally, they'll all be in costume."

--------

As we reach the elevator, Luther says, "It sounds very romantic." He's grinning like Luis's cat. The only thing that's missing is the feathers around his mouth.

I pat my purse, glare at him and say, "I just want to remind you that I'm carrying and I'm in the mood for plinking."

He chuckles. As we step into the elevator, Luis grins and says, "Just like old times, isn't it, Annie?"

"You, too?" I say.

In the cab we ride in silence part of the way and then Luther says, "We need to go over some things for tonight. Ma will be spending a lot of time with you, Annie, and I'll be with Luis and also backing Ma up."

"Do you really think they'll try something at this costume party?" I ask.

"I don't know, but we have to be prepared. We still don't know who is behind it and how desperate they may feel. They may just be trying to scare people or they may escalate into violence. Kidnapping is pretty serious stuff. Ma and I will be in communication covertly and you and Luis will be wearing GPS tracking devices."

"I just have one request," I say.

"What is it?" Luther asks.

"Will you please promise me you won't bring any more of those concussion grenades?"

"Sheesh, you never forget, do you?" he says.

"I'm with Annie on that one," Luis says and shudders.

"I'd like to take a detour right now," I say. "There's something we have to do."

"What is it?" Luis asks.

"I've got something to show you," I say. "Call it incentive for what we've been through."

I give the driver the address and in spite of the traffic we're there in fifteen minutes.

"A garage?" Luther asks.

"Not just any garage." I reach into my purse and pull out gloves and a hat. "I brought these for you just in case," I say to Luis.

We walk into the garage and there are our Porches parked side by side. There's something about them, even in the garage light, that makes me feel successful. I've never even turned the key on mine, but it's mine and it's gleaming and sleek.

"Basalt black with a garnet interior with silver piping," I say to Luis. "They're the nine eighteen hybrids so we won't be polluting the planet more than we have to as we race past the poor stiffs who can't afford a Porsche. I got them in the same color and style. But if you don't like it, you can send it back and get something different."

Luis settles behind the driver's seat of the car with the plate that reads, MKEUP.

"I love it," he says. "What do you think? Should I buy a long scarf to wear when I'm driving?"

"Yeah, definitely go with the scarf," Luther says and settles behind the wheel of my car.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I ask.

"Come on, Annie. Aren't you going to let me drive your car?" he asks.

"You might get a ride in it, if you promise to polish it," I say. "But I'll do the driving."

"Driving a Porsche in New York City is like sailing an ocean liner on a pond," Luther says. "We'll have to take these babies out on the freeway to see what they can really do."

"Well, unfortunately, right now we have to get home and rest," I say. "It's going to be a very long night."

# Chapter 22

Old Westbury House lives up to its billing. It's a mansion within driving distance of the Queen's Center Mall. Life doesn't get better than that. We drive down the long drive and through the gates. The September air is unseasonably brisk and the leaves of the large trees are starting to show hints of gold and russet hues.

When we arrive the place is a madhouse with cameras and lights all over the place. Our holding area is a wing off to the left. The extras are holding on the back lawn. We walk around to familiarize ourselves. The back lawn stretches off into the distance and is almost Texas big. That's big.

Luis goes off to set up in the makeup area and Luther and I find my room.

"I'll be dressing in there," I say at the door.

"I can't let you out of my sight. Ma's orders," Luther says.

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint Ma," I say, "but you're not watching me change."

As we stand in the doorway, Brittany arrives with a box for me. "Here's your costume, Annie," she says. "Wardrobe is right down the hall if you need anything."

She smiles at Luther and flutters her eyelashes. He smiles back and watches her wiggle down the hall.

"If you can scoop up your eyeballs, we'll get back to business," I say.

"Just doing some surveillance," he says. "You did tell me she's your arch enemy, didn't you?"

"Is that what you call that?" I ask. "I'm going to change into my peasant girl costume. You can wait out here if you like."

"Ma should be along soon. She said she'd bring her own costume," Luther says. "Just remember to keep that GPS device somewhere on your person. If you'd like, I could help you to find a spot," he says and grins.

I close the door in his face.

I put the box on the bed and open it. As I lift the costume a piece of paper flutters to the floor. I pick it up and read, Darling, Meet me in the gazebo at the walled garden at eight sharp, T.  p. s. I'll be a pirate.

Well, well, old Brittany missed that one. I guess she's not as sharp as she thinks she is. Tomi managed to slip that note in the box right under her nose. I'll have to find out where the walled garden is and be in that gazebo at eight to meet my pirate. It will be dark by then. The peasant girl costume is a drab brown frock that's torn and dirty. I can only imagine what the damned makeup is going to be. Luis is probably mixing up a batch of mud and pig shit right now. Brittany is brilliant, Brittany planned it all, I say in a sing-song voice.

"Well, Brit, old girl," I say and laugh out loud. "You didn't plan on Tomi wanting to meet me in the gazebo. If you and Tomi are spending time together cruising around Long Island and checking out mansions I guess it's time to stake my claim before it's too late. I don't like to be rushed into things, but I guess it's now or never and Tomi isn't leaving that gazebo without my brand on his backside. I'll do whatever it takes to get that man."

I imagine she thinks the brown frock will make me look ugly. There's a simple solution to that one. When Tomi enters that gazebo he won't see a frock, he'll see what I'm hiding under that frock. I plan on being in my birthday suit and Tomi will be the one getting the presents. I don the frock and slip my feet into the tattered leather shoes that came with the costume.

There's a racket outside the door and then a knock. I open it to find the ugliest Dutch girl I've ever seen.

"Ida," I say. "Come in. I love your costume."

"I'm a little Dutch girl," she says and smiles. She's wearing a pointed Dutch bonnet with flaps turned up on the sides and trimmed in lace. The straight blond hair and a gallon of rouge under the cap actually go well with the costume. She's wearing a white pinafore over a blue dress that goes to mid calf. There must be several petticoats under the dress because it's billowy, to say the least. All in all she looks even bigger than she usually looks. Her stout legs end in giant wooden shoes. I have a giant sized Dutch girl as my personal bodyguard.

"Luther went to keep an eye on Luis," she says. "I'll be with you the rest of the night."

Like hell you will, I think to myself and remember Tomi's note, but I smile and say, "Of, course. I feel a lot safer now."

There's a knock on the door and Ida says. "I'll get it, Annie. You stay right there."

She goes to the door and has a muffled conversation. "They want you to wait here. They're shooting the scenes and stills with the Czarina right now."

"Have you seen her, yet?" I ask.

"Yes, she's absolutely gorgeous," she says. "She's wearing a satin white sequined gown with a teal green boa and enough diamonds to open her own jewelry store."

Just what I didn't need to hear. Yup, it's now or never. I have to make Tomi mine tonight, but how the hell do I get rid of Ida? We finally get a call to make our way to the shoot. They're shooting a scene in front of the house. We leave the room and walk about twenty feet down the hall and I turn to Ida and say, "Excuse me, I forgot something," and I turn and walk back to the room and in the door. She follows, but I've distanced her and slip in the door and turn the lock.

I run to the window and look down. Crap! I forgot we're on the second floor. Ivy covers the wall, but there's a drainpipe and if I lean way out I might be able to reach it. Don't look down, I say to myself. Keep your eye on the ball, Annie.

I lean as far out as I can and just as I'm reaching for the pipe I hear Ida pounding on the door. How the hell will I explain this one? She's a woman, she'll understand about true love, right, Annie? I say to myself. Yeah, that's it, true love. It must be true love to have me risking my neck climbing down a drain pipe to meet Tomi in the gazebo at the walled garden. I manage to get my fingers around the pipe and swing myself out. It's the moment of truth, will the pipe hold?

They don't build em' like they used to, I say to myself as the pipe holds and I use my feet to hold myself away from the wall as I work my way down the pipe. A few of the extras are standing on the ground when I reach the first floor. The holding tent for the extras is nearby and I can see the lights and chairs and smell the food from craft services. It's almost eight and pitch dark except for the lights at their large tent.

"I don't suppose any of you know where the walled garden and gazebo are?" I ask.

A woman says, "I know where it is. Are you on the run or something?"

"Got a hot date with a pirate," I say and smile.

They laugh and the woman says, "I used to be a guide here and I come for the summer concert series so I can tell you where it is." She gives me directions and I'm hot footing it through the grass on my way to seal the deal, so to speak. I'm breathless from running and anticipation, but I finally find the garden. I wish I'd thought to bring a light, but where would I have gotten a flashlight?

There's a shallow pond and around that pond a wall made with porticos. The gazebo is dark, but I feel my way to it. I'm chilled by the night air and hear the leaves rustling in the trees. It will be Halloween in a month, my favorite time of the year, but not a great time to be scantily clad at night. Soon I'll have the warmth of my lover and what could be better than that? I have nagging doubts about his intentions. Is he toying with me, is that idiot Luther Grolsch right about him being a player? This is no time to be thinking about that big idiot, Luther Grolsch, I say to myself. You'll soon be in the arms of Tomi.

It must be eight by now. All is darkness and shadows. I slip out of the frock as I hear him approaching. I lie back on a cold marble bench and whisper, "Over here, darling."

Then his large shadow is above me. A break in the clouds allows a sliver of moonlight to momentarily light his face. He's wearing a full beard and an eye patch. I giggle and say, "I've decided I want you. I can't wait. I need you, Blackbeard. Let me show you my treasure chest."

He looks down at my breasts and smiles.

I pull him down on myself and wrap my arms around his neck. He feels so strong and powerful on top of me. As soon as he's on top of me all doubts are gone. He's fumbling with his sash as cold air hits my nipples and they stand erect rubbing on the fabric of his shirt. I'm panting, "Hurry," I say and wrap my legs around him, pulling him to me.

A woman's voice shouts, "LIGHTS!" A brilliant light suddenly pours over us and there's a gasp from the shadows.

"What the hell?" I scream and try to hold him down as he suddenly straightens above me. I reach out for him, No, Tomi, wait! And my hand is full of hair.

His beard comes off and Luther Grolsch is standing over me. "You!" I scream in surprise, "you sonofabitch!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he says, squinting to see in the blinding light.

"Annie!" Tomi's voice says from the shadows behind the lights. "Kill those damned lights!" He shouts. A moment later the lights dim and I can begin to see as my eyes adjust to the darkness. There are lights set up around the gazebo and Tomi is standing in the doorway, his eyes flashing angrily. His chest is heaving and he's breathing heavily. "So," he says. "This is the surprise you had for me? Brittany was right about you."

"What?" I ask.

"What the hell is going on here?" Luther asks.

"You can have her," Tomi says to Luther. "Good riddance. She's nothing, but trouble... and you, Annie, you could have just told me you wanted him rather than me. You didn't have to go to all this trouble. I should have listened to Brittany."

"Trouble?" I ask, dazed. Then I realize I'm still naked. There are a few men operating the lights and of course, Luther Grolsch is still standing over me and my legs are still around his hips.

"Get off me, you bastard!" I yell and hit his chest.

"Wait a minute, Annie," he says.

"There you are," Ida says as she huffs and puffs her way up to us. "Luther, what are you up to?"

"Ma, this isn't what it looks likes," he begins.

"Don't be stupid, Luther, it's exactly what it looks like. Pull your pants up and get back to work," she says.

Tomi storms off and Luther pulls his pants up. Ida hands me my frock and says, "What's gotten into you, Annie?"

"But... but I..." I begin, but Luther turns his back and walks away with Ida. I slip the frock over my head and sit on the bench. The lighting crew begins to take the lights down.

"Who told you to set up those lights here?" I ask.

One of them turns and says, "Brittany said we should be ready around eight so we set it up an hour ago and waited here. She was here a minute ago," he says and looks around.

"And she shouted, LIGHTS?" I ask.

"Yes, it was supposed to be a surprise, just as Tomi walked up," he says.

"Oh, it was, trust me it was," I say. "I'll kill her!"

By the time Ida and I make our way back to the mansion Brittany is shooting another scene in one of the large rooms.

Tomi, dressed as a cowboy, is watching her from the sidelines. A little panda is standing across the room waving at me. He takes his head off and Luis is smiling at me. I make my way around the room and stand beside him. "There you are," he whispers. "I've got to make you up. What's going on? Have you been crying?"

I take his hand and lead him down the hallway away from the crowd. "You won't believe what's happened," I say.

"Uh-oh, don't tell me, Brittany!" he gasps.

"Yup, she set me up real good and as usual I fell for it. Damned near broke number twenty eight, but I thought it was going to be twenty seven."

"What?" Luis asks.

Ida and Luther join us and Luther says, "Annie, we have to talk."

"Later, Luther," I say. "I need to get made up for the next scene and I need to talk to my friend, Luis."

"Alright," Luther says. "I just want you to know I was set up, too."

"Yeah, I'm starting to get the picture," I say. "Don't tell me, let me guess, Brittany told you to meet me there?"

"That's right. She said you said that you had something you wanted to give me so naturally I thought..." he begins.

"You thought what! Why didn't you think there was something suspicious about that? You know how I feel about you, don't you?" I angrily ask.

"Yeah, I guess so. You don't have to get so angry. It wasn't my fault."

"You're supposed to be protecting me," I say. "What would make you think I would want to meet you secretly? It's her isn't it? She just batted those eyelashes at you and you didn't even bother to think it through."

"Wait a minute, what do you mean, how you feel about me?" he asks indignantly.

"Well, let's see... you snuck into my bed. You broke up a beautiful romantic night I was having with Tomi..."

"I still think he's not right for you." Luther says.

"I'm not finished yet," I say. "Then you blew me up! Now you do this, this... Ugh!" I groan. "Luther, what's next? Peeing on the carpet?"

"Don't worry. I'll explain it to him," Luther says.

"Tomi will never believe it," I say and shake my head. "She put the idea in his head that I'm bad when she warned him about me and then she set us up. Now do you see what I mean when I say she's evil? You didn't believe me, did you?"

"Annie, you're up next," an assistant director calls.

"Great," I say. "Now I have to go and shoot a scene with her. I'd like to shoot her, alright."

"She'll get hers. Don't worry," Ida says.

"Yeah, I know, Karma and all that, right?" I ask.

Ida smiles and says, "Yes, Karma, or something like it."

When we're alone in makeup Luis says, "I'd say it's about time we did something to her."

"Like what?" I ask. "Anything I try will just backfire and it will make things worse. Let's just get through this shoot and go home."

"Have you heard what we're doing tomorrow?" Luis asks.

"With my luck it's jello wrestling over a shark cage," I say as Luis smears mud on my face.

"Really? Mud?" I ask incredulously.

"Sorry," Luis says. "I'm just following orders and it's actually cosmetic and hypo allergenic.

"Oh, goody," I say.

As I walk away, Luis say, "Tomorrow will be better, Annie. You're going for a balloon ride."

I walk to the stairway in the back of the house and Brittany is there in all her glory. She's even wearing a real diamond tiara. She stands on the stairs with lights all around and looks like a million bucks. They're taking stills and adjusting the lights. Tomi is standing there watching her and I figure it's now or never. I make my way to him and say, "Tomi, we need to talk."

He looks at me like I'm something he just scraped off his shoe. It's probably not a good sign. "I have nothing to say. I'm tired of your practical jokes and your need to humiliate everyone around you."

"That's not the way it is," I start.

"From now on, let's just keep it professional. We have a business arrangement and that's it," he says, coldly.

"Business? You know it's more than that," I say.

"We're in the middle of an important shoot, here, Ms. McCauley," he says. "I need to concentrate on this and I don't have time for games."

"Alright, let's get our peasant girl in here," the director calls.

"Can we talk later?" I ask.

"It's finished," he says and turns away.

"Alright now, peasant girl, I need you to look adoringly at the Czarina," the director says.

"Sure, no problem," I say through clenched teeth. I kneel on the step at her feet and say through clenched teeth so only she can hear, "You are so freaking dead, you bitch!"

Brittany looks down at me and smiles condescendingly, "Screw you, bitch," she says through clenched teeth. "How are things going with Tomi?" she innocently asks as she smiles at me as though I'm a sweet little puppy.

The director loves it and Tomi is grinning at Brittany. The others are unaware of what Brit and I are saying. To them it looks like I'm the adoring peasant girl and she is the kind and generous Czarina.

"I'll get you for this," I hiss while I smile and bat my eyelashes.

"Do you think she's groveling enough?" Brittany asks the director.

"A little more groveling wouldn't hurt," he says. "Remember, this is just the real peasant girl's fantasy, Annie, so she would really want you to grovel."

"Oh, I'm sure she does," I say. Grovel? I think.

"Yes, after all Annie, you owe everything to me," Brittany says and pats my head.

"Tears of appreciation, that's a nice touch, Annie," the director says.

As my tears fall on my lovely brown frock and the steps, I'm kneeling at the feet of my arch enemy. I work on my groveling skills while the words of Evie echo in my ears, Why do you hate my little girl?

Evie, I think to myself, I could give you a list of reasons. Groveling and head patting are near the top of the list.

"A little more smiling now, Annie," the director says. "We don't need any more tears."

# Chapter 23

We spent the night in Luis's apartment. Luther slept on the floor, Luis slept on the couch and I slept in Luis's bed. Ida joined us in the morning and we drove in silence to the shoot at Old Westbury Gardens in her SUV. Except for her cursing and blowing the horn and commenting on the intelligence of the other drivers it was a pretty quiet trip.

As we rode I thought about hostage situations. Sometimes when there are people within a walled compound and the police are trying to get them to give themselves up they set up loudspeakers outside the walls and try to drive them out. The police could save themselves the trouble of setting up loud speakers and just position Ida outside the walls. Within an hour the people in the fortress would gladly give up in order to shut her up. I was numb by the time we pulled up in front of the house.

As we say in Texas, that woman's got enough tongue for two rows of teeth.

As we walk in I lag behind to walk beside Luther. "Is she always like that?" I whisper.

"Like what?" Luther asks, dumbly.

I shrug and smile. Okay...

"Well, no panda costume today," Luis says, wistfully.

"Cheer up, poppet," I say. "Today we have balloons!"

His face brightens and he smiles. "Maybe I can go for a ride."

"I have a fear of heights," I say. "I hope it's old Brit they want to send up."

Once again I find myself in the brown frock and tattered leather slip on shoes. Luis applies a fine smear of mud to my face and I'm good to go.

Brittany is dressed in another floor length gown. This one is purple and she's wearing a tiara again along with lots of jewelry. Diamonds sparkle on her wrists and around her neck where I'd like to put a noose.

The shoot is very simple. First we'll do a scene in the mansion that doesn't include the peasant girl (that would be me). Then we'll do a shoot at the balloon. I stroll to the back of the mansion and find a massive rainbow colored balloon with gold letters that read, CZARINA by Tomi Di tethered to a stake on the lawn. Apparently the peasant girl is still fantasizing that she is the Czarina and this time she's dreaming of going up in the balloon and floating over the colorful fall landscape while the real Czarina plays the part of the adoring peasant girl who watches in breathless wonder.

Personally, I think the shit slinging scene is starting to look better all the time. If it wasn't for the huge paycheck this is bringing me, not to mention the Porsche, I'd probably quit. I never thought I'd say it, but maybe there's another job I could do besides modeling that wouldn't be so aggravating and difficult. But, as they say, the show must go on. I walk up to a guy who is standing near the bottom of the stairs looking out across the lawn to where the balloon is tethered.

"You must be the balloonist," I say.

"That's me," he says and smiles. He's a middle aged man with a good natural tan and an engaging smile. He's about as tall as me with a slight paunch that is held in check by a big belt buckle and a wide leather belt. "I'm the pilot and chief balloonatic."

"Is it hard to fly a balloon?" I ask. I join him sitting on the back stairs.

"Not at all," he says. "You just give it some gas to rise and pull the parachute cord to let some air out and descend. The tricky part is finding a good spot to land."

"I guess it's just idling now?"

"Yes," he says. "I've got the burner keeping it up. When we go up we'll use the main burner to ascend and then switch to the secondary burner which is much quieter since it runs on liquid fuel instead of gas."

"How do you steer it?" I ask.

"Ah, that's the tricky part. We try to find the right altitude to hit an air current that's going the way we want to go, but it's really just hit and miss. I always check the weather forecast before going up."

"Which way is the wind blowing today?" I ask.

"It's blowing toward Manhattan so a trip today would possibly take you right over the city. That's certainly better than the usual alternative which is a trip over Long Island Sound, next stop Liverpool," he says and laughs. "Excuse me," he says and walks into the house.

Ida is sitting beside me and we're enjoying the morning sun and warmth on our backs. "We'd like to get a few shots of the peasant girl in the balloon," a man says from behind me. "I look over my shoulder and see a few cameras hanging off his neck, his face obscured by the sun.

"Sure," I say. Ida and I walk to the balloon which is quite a ways from the house. I imagine they have to keep it well clear of the building, which isn't a problem with acres of lawn. Several more cameramen have joined us and we're soon surrounded by cameramen... short cameramen to be exact. I don't think one of them is as tall as me. A little voice in my head is trying to tell me something and then it hits me as we reach the balloon.

"I forgot something in the house," I say and turn toward the house. "Ida, could you help me," I say and grab her arm, but the little cameramen have completely surrounded us and we can't get past them.

"Not so fast," a familiar voice says.

I turn and Marcos is standing with cameras around his neck and a gun in his hand. "You keep your mouth shut," he says to Ida. "Or she gets it."

He reaches up and takes a small earpiece out of Ida's ear. He drops it and smashes it with his heel. "There, now that son of yours won't be bothering us," he says.

"You won't get away with this," I say.

Marcos laughs and says, "Get away with what? We're just going to send you on a little ride, but there's going to be a little accident."

He nods and one of his men takes a knife to the floor of the basket that's attached to the balloon.

"There you go," Marcos says. "No, you go up in the balloon. Maybe and you and the fat lady wanted to stand in the balloon and it accidentally got loose. There's an accident. The basket was weak and you both fell through. Something like that."

"That's one hell of a plan you've got there, Marcos," I say. "Obviously, Miz Hopkins didn't think that one up. It's too stupid."

"No," Ida says.

She says it so loud that Marcos jumps and cringes. "Don't shout, fat woman," he says.

"She's not shouting," I say.

"You mean she talks that loud all the time?" he asks, incredulously.

I don't want to hurt her feelings or piss Marcos off so I just smile.

"I'm not going anywhere," Ida says.

One of the little Rigatoni prods her from behind with his gun. She wheels and glares at him. When she turns her back on Marcos he quickly raps her on the back of her head with the butt of his gun and she collapses in a heap of blue and white fabric.

"Tie her hands... and gag her," he says. Several of his men breathe a sigh of relief.

A stunned Ida is starting to make sounds and is moving a little.

"Leave her alone!" I shout.

"Tie her hands, too." Marcos says.

Four of the Rigatoni struggle to lift Ida and push her over the side of the basket. Her hands are tied behind her back, but she kicks and one of her wooden shoes connects with the head of one of them. He goes down like he's been shot. Another gingerly steps up to take his place.

Marcos sighs and says, "You should have tied her legs, Stupido!"

He looks over my shoulder and says, "Shit."

I turn and see Luther racing toward us.

"Now you've done it," I say. "He'll probably blow us up again!"

Marcos' eyes go wide with fear. He fires a shot at Luther, but Luther keeps running toward us. "Sunamumbitcha!" Marcos says and runs for the woods.

Ida finally drops into the basket and the Rigatonis scatter toward the woods before they get a chance to tie my hands. The basket starts to rise and I realize I'm the only one who can stop it in time. It's gaining altitude and the one rope that is trailing it is still dragging on the ground, but is getting shorter all the time. I dive for the rope, but miss it. Then I run after it, the loop trailing on the ground just out of my reach. Instead of trying to grab it with my hand I decide to step on it to stop it and then pick it up as if it's a paper blowing in the wind.

The only problem with that plan is that it isn't a paper. It's a rope attached to a giant balloon with enough hot air in it to lift hundreds of pounds into the air. I manage to put my foot on the loop, but it's pulled free by the balloon that's picking up speed. My foot slips through the loop and before you can say, bad plan, I'm jerked off my feet and being dragged along the ground. Like I said before, I'm not real good at the hokey pokey and knowing when to put my foot in and shake it all... well, you get the idea.

The loop tightens on my ankle as I'm lifted off the ground. I'm slowly turning in the wind with my lovely brown frock hanging down over my face. I push it aside and sometimes I see the house and Luther running toward me and sometimes I see the end of the lawn and the trees which are coming up fast. Finally, Luther is below me as I hear a tearing sound and look up to see Ida's legs break through the basket. She gets hung up somehow and her legs are hanging down and kicking.

Luther tries, but is unable to reach my outstretched arms. He looks at Ida's legs and says, "Ma?" As I rise above him and look at the dizzying lawn and trees below Luther looks at me and angrily says, "What did you do to her?"

"HELP!!" I finally shout. "Help me, you idiot!"

Luther is standing below us, watching the balloon, and glaring at me.

"We're going to Manhattan!" I scream at him.

"You're crazy!" he shouts.

As we start to glide over the trees I try to grab a branch, but wind up with a handful of leaves and then the trees are out of reach. I hear the basket tearing a little more and see Ida's legs drop a little lower.

I'm swinging in the wind and slowly turning as we drift over trees and houses. The cars look like tiny toys below us. I hear honking and see a V of geese flying by. The blood is rushing to my head and my stomach isn't feeling so good. How do you vomit upside down? I wonder. A sound is gradually getting louder. What the hell is that? I wonder. It's behind me so I wiggle and try to turn. I manage to get twisted around and there it is, hovering beside us, the local News chopper. Oh, My, God! I think. They're filming me hanging upside down looking like this. I push the frock aside and look closely. Yes, they are filming. Oh, No!

Thank god I wore panties today, I think to myself. But a little voice says, If you wore panties why is it so breezy down there? I slowly search with my hands and feel cotton.

I'm going to die, I say to myself. I'm going to die hanging upside down in a freaking brown frock with mud smeared on my face and I'm worried about panties? No pictures in Women's Wear Daily, no fame, no... wait a minute..."

I look at the copter that's circling us and the guy with the camera smiles and gives me a thumbs-up. Could these idiots actually think that I'm doing this on purpose?

"HELP!" I scream.

He grins and waves.

I give him the one digit trailer park salute.

I reach up with both hands and grab the back of my thigh. I start working my way up my thigh and as I do, I am getting closer to the rope, pulling myself up bit by bit. Finally, exhausted, I have myself upright again and I'm holding the rope. My foot slips through the loop and the loop rides up my thigh. I wrap my arms around the rope and catch my breath. I look down and almost pass out. I'm not good at judging distance, but it's a long way down. I know that much. The basket is about thirty feet above me.

I used to be good at climbing the ropes in gym class. Some of the "big" girls could only hang there, but I was so skinny I could make it all the way to the top and touch the ibeam they hung from. There was only one girl in the class who could beat me and before you ask, yes it was her. But she's not here now, is she? Noooo, she's safe on the ground because she got to be the Czarina today while I got stuck being the peasant girl.

"Hang on, Ida" I shout and the legs stop kicking. "I'm right below you and I'm going to try to climb a rope and get to you."

I start working my way up the rope and finally reach the edge of the basket. I pull myself to the rim and look down on Ida who is looking up at me, her face red and angry. I debate taking the gag out of her mouth. It would be the decent thing to do, I tell myself and sigh. I lean over the basket and pull the gag free and cringe. She's drowning out the sound of the gas burner.

"I can't reach your hands to untie you," I say.

"I'll kill those little men!" she shouts.

"Ida, sit still," I shout. "The basket might break. I think I can get us down, but you have to sit still."

She beams up at me and says, "You're very strong. You'll make good babies."

"Have you been talking to my mama?" I ask.

She laughs heartily and unfortunately that makes her drop a little lower.

"There's a support here behind me," she says. "I have my hands on it. You do what you have to do. I'll be alright."

Now if I can remember what the balloon guy said. The hard part is finding a place to land. I look down at roads, cars, and buildings. We must be over Queens. Where can I land in Queens? I ask myself.

I yell to Ida, "I have to cut back on the gas and open the parachute at the top of the balloon. There are knobs something like a gas grill on the control panel."

She looks up at me, smiles, and nods.

I reach up and pause. Let's see, I have a problem with directions and this is upside down. When I used to help Daddy work on the car it was lefty-loosey, righty-tighty. So, do I turn the knob that way or the other way? I give the knob a turn and the noise gets louder. A half minute later we start to rise. Oops, not that way. I turn it the other way and the noise subsides a little. We start to slowly ascend.

There's a cord hanging down. It seems to go all the way to the top of the balloon. I give it a tug and the top of the balloon where the parachute is folds in on itself and I see blue sky. We start to ascend faster.

"I think I'm getting the hang of this," I call to Ida. "I see a parking lot up ahead. I'm going to shoot for that. Hang on!"

Several other helicopters have joined us including one with a police insignia on the side. I see a cop inside motioning with his hand. "Put it down!" he says over a loud speaker.

"Easy for you to say," I yell at him.

I gradually let the air out and tighten the knob on the gas. We're still travelling horizontally as well as dropping. Ida's legs hit the tar first and she's running while holding the basket by the support. Fortunately there aren't many cars in the parking lot. We finally smash into the side of a pickup, but all in all, it's not so bad for a first landing. I kill the flame and the balloon descends around us. When the parachute reaches us I push it aside and Ida and I are standing in the crown of the balloon. We're surrounded by people who are snapping pictures with their phones.

"Hey, Ida, I don't believe it," I say. "We're at the mall!"

A police car screeches to a halt and a handsome guy in a suit dashes over to us. "Ma?" he says.

"I can explain," I say and bat my eyelashes at him.

"Don't tell me, let me guess, Luther has something to do with this, doesn't he?" he says.

"It's not his fault," Ida says. "Help me out of this."

He's big like his brother and hardly strains at all to lift Ida out of the basket. He swings me out like nothing, but I notice he holds onto me a little longer than necessary. Probably wants to make sure I've got my balance, I think to myself and laugh. He has the same short haircut and dark blond hair with beautiful sky blue eyes, not as light or piercing as his brother's. Why is it I always meet the cute brother last?

The SUV comes wheeling up and Luther jumps out.

"What the hell are you up to this time?" the cop brother asks.

# Chapter 24

Hours later we slouch into Luis's apartment exhausted. I'm still in the frock. We've stopped at the liquor store and we're each holding a package. Luis puts a pizza on the coffee table in front of the TV.

"I'll get the corkscrew," Luis says.

"I don't need it," I say. "Screw top."

"Same here," Luther says and sits on the couch.

Luis shudders and says, "Good wine never came from a screw top bottle."

"This ain't wine," Luther says through swollen and split lips. He has two blackened eyes to match.

I sit at the other end of the couch and chug cheap Riesling. "And this ain't good," I say.

Luis sits between us and sighs.

I say, "Well, we got to meet Luther's brother Martin today."

"Marty seemed nice," Luis says brightly.

"Yes, apparently it was his brother Luther who got all the Neanderthal DNA in the family. Luther, are you still grinding your teeth?" I ask. "I thought the part where the other cops had to pull you and Marty apart was the best part, didn't you?"

"We got the Rigatoni gang anyway," Luther says.

"How many did you catch?" Luis asks.

"We got six, including Marcos and Leah Hopkins. She was in the mansion pretending to be part of the crew."

"Well then," Luis says, "that's the end of that."

"Shall we watch the news?" Luis asks and turns on his television.

The big human interest story of the day is that the woman known as Revolving Door Lady on the internet has staged another hilarious caper. This time she is dangling by a rope and drifting over Queens while a pair of enormously fat legs with wooden shoes hangs down from the basket kicking.

"Ma ain't going to like that," Luther says.

She manages to climb the rope and get herself into the basket and then lands at the Queens Center Mall. The Di Ponti company is going to be fined for staging the event without a license.

A scuffle broke out in the parking lot between police and an unidentified man who is seen here being pepper sprayed and tasered. It took about a dozen officers to finally get him under control.

"Not exactly your finest moment, hey, Luther?" I ask. "How are your eyes? Have they stopped burning?"

"Grrrrr," he says and chugs some whiskey.

"Well, I'm going to soak my rope burned legs in the tub," I say and help myself to a slice of pizza.

"Make sure you wash all that mud off your face," Luis says.

"Oh, don't worry about that," I say. "The tears took care of that hours ago."

--------

I've had a good long soak in the tub and I'm bundled up in a nice fluffy terry cloth robe. Unfortunately, about half the bottle of cheap Riesling is gone and I'm not about to go out for more. On the other hand, I think I've endured enough punishment for one day so maybe I'll put the rest of the wine in the fridge.

Luther and Luis are still on the couch. I'm not up for any confrontations, but after a good night's sleep all bets will be off. I've come to some conclusions in the tub. The most important decision I've made is to get Luther Grolsch, the human tick, out of my life. The second decision is to give it one more try with Tomi. I want to make him realize that Brittany is evil and I'm a very warm and caring woman who could also be a great lover if he'd give me a chance.

I have to be honest. I waffled on the Tomi decision because I'm still not clear on his ideas on fidelity and honesty. I want to believe that he will love me so much that he'll forsake all others, as the old marriage wheeze goes, but I do have some nagging doubts. Speaking of nagging doubts I wonder how this news will sit with the folks in Mesa View? The story will probably hit the national news and when the good folks in West Texas see me hanging upside down showing off my big girl panties the Evangelical Path people will probably send a delegation to save my soul and remove me from New York City, also known as Sodom or is that Gomorrah?

The events of the last few weeks are a little hazy and I may have the exact order a little off, but I've given myself a little job review and here's what I've come up with so far. First, I had an erotic ride on a horse with the owner of the company while being interviewed for the job. Secondly, I missed my employment interview because I was stuck to a toilet seat that I stole from the ladies room. I got stuck in a revolving door with the seat on my ass and became an internet sensation. I met the Di Ponti family and was molested while saving one of them from being strangled by a giant snake.

Then I head butted a fellow employee and threw shit in her face while having my dress ripped off and that resulted in a catfight on the sidewalk in front of the Di Ponti Building in the fashion district of New York. I got myself kidnapped right after that. Then I almost screwed the owner of the company on my couch, but was saved from my lustful cravings by L. G. For my next trick I was kidnapped again and then blown up. Finally, I was held at gun point, hung upside down from a runaway balloon and sort of crash landed in the parking lot of the mall.

Sales are up and the Di Ponti family's company is doing fine. Ooops, almost forgot being caught in flagrante dilecto with a pirate while I was supposed to be flagrante dilecto with the boss in the walled garden. Did I miss anything?

"I'm tired and I'm going to bed alone and in my own apartment," I say. "The bad guys have all been rounded up and as far as we're concerned, Mister Grolsch, our business is concluded except for the check and I'll let Tomi take care of that. I said, alone, do I make myself clear? I plan on trying to explain things to Tomi and to make this all right if I can. I honestly think I could have something special with him. Do I make myself clear, Luther?"

Luther has been staring off into space, but he finally turns his head and his eyes fasten on me. "I could have done a better job of protecting you. I understand how you feel. Good night, Annie. I'll be here if you need me."

"I won't," I say. It's not that I'm angry. It's that I'm spent. It's been too much.

I walk across the hall and into my apartment. When I close the door on my apartment, it's like I'm closing the door on the world. I crawl into my own bed and when I close my eyes I see visions of an upside down world spinning over my head. I feel myself twisting in the wind and spinning and falling. I jerk awake and realize I may have screamed. Jesus Christ! I say to myself. I could have been killed. I shake like a wet and cold dog for about five minutes and cry like a baby. Blubbering is the word that comes to mind. I hug a pillow and say over and over, It's alright, you're okay, it's alright, you're okay...

Why the hell wasn't I more afraid while it was happening?

I have to get up and get toilet paper from the bathroom because the tissue box beside my bed is empty and I don't want snots running down onto my pillow. When I turn the light on I look at my apartment. It's not clean. It is cluttered. It's not homey, but it's home. I sit at the kitchen table for a moment and say to myself, this is fucked up. I thought being a fashion model in New York City would be glamorous.

There would be handsome men wining and dining me and clubs and parties every night. I'd have beautiful clothes, diamonds, and expensive cars. Well okay, maybe I've got the car and some clothes and there are handsome men, but it isn't what I thought it would be. Other models have those things, so why don't I?

Maybe Luis is right. I have to figure myself out. I have to know what I can live with and what is a deal breaker. What do I want and need and what can I get as Annie McCauley? It's too much, but I vow to find the answers starting tomorrow. For now, maybe I can find some peace in a good night's sleep. I go back to my bed and fall asleep almost as soon as my head hits the pillow.

The early bird may have gotten his quota of worms. I couldn't tell you because I slept way past early. I slept past mid morning and by the time my phone ringing and buzzing woke me up it was almost not morning at all. I fumble around and finally manage to find it on the nightstand.

"Hi, Mama," I say.

"Annie..." I hear Mama say. Her voice is quaking. Not a good sign. I guess she's probably been watching the news and has been rethinking the whole parenthood thing albeit about twenty two years too late.

"Mama, I can explain," I say.

"What?" Mama says. "How do you know? Did Brittany tell you?"

"I'm not exactly on speaking terms with her at the moment, Mama. Tell me what?" Apparently, my latest life fiasco isn't the biggest disaster on Mama's radar.

Mama is sobbing and I hear Daddy pick up the other phone. He's chuckling. Mama sobbing and Daddy chuckling isn't a good sign.

"Well, she did it again," Daddy says.

"What?" I ask.

"Oh, Annie, it's terrible," Mama says.

This day is starting better than I thought it would. Rather than being a hissing and byword in my family and the Western plains someone else has outdone me. Or maybe the folks back home just haven't heard about my balloon ride and exhibition yet because someone else is acting up out West. Either way, for the moment, I'm off the hook.

"Mama, what's going on?" I ask.

"It's Evie Carstairs," she says and sniffles.

"Is she dead?" I ask. It's the only thing I can think of and it doesn't seem right that Daddy would find that funny even though he says most of the Carstairs are no account and useless as a bag of rocks.

"N-o-o-o-o," Mama wails. "It's worse than that."

Having just flirted with the grim reaper at two thousand feet over Long Island I can't think of anything much worse than death, but then again I just woke up. It's apparent that I'm not fully awake because I completely missed the most obvious reason Mama would be crying and Daddy would say that Evie did it again. What does Evie always do?

"She's run off with the Reverend Goodnight!" Daddy says and laughs out loud.

"What!" I gasp and giggle. "You've got to be kidding?" Yes!! I say to myself and pump my fist. Thank you, Jesus!

"Yup," Daddy says and laughs again. "He cleaned out the church's building fund and they took off yesterday morning and ain't been seen or heard from since. She's at least fifteen years older than him, too."

Way to go, Evie, you man stealing bitch.

"I'm glad you two are enjoying this so much," Mama says sarcastically. "He left his wife Pauline and their five little girls and just took off with that Jezebel, Evie Carstairs. I can't believe I trusted her and even gave her my recipe for tuna casserole... it's not funny, Annie!"

"I'm sorry, Mama," I say and hit the mute button as I break out laughing and tears roll down my cheeks. Somehow, life doesn't seem so bad when other people are losing tuna casserole recipe's and building funds.

Maybe this would be a good time to warn them that they might see something disturbing on the news, I think to myself. Nope, better to let Evie have the spotlight for a while.

"How's the new job going?" Daddy asks.

"Oh, it's going good," I say.

"Did you have to put that Porsche in the shop, yet?" Daddy asks.

"Not yet, haven't had a bit of trouble with it," I answer.

"Well, you will," Daddy says. "When it breaks down, see if you can get a Chevy."

"I will, Daddy," I say. "Mama, I'm sorry to hear about Evie. I really am."

"Thank you, darlin'," Mama says. "If I wasn't a Christian woman I'd have a few things to say about that home wrecking... you know what."

"I know, Mama," I say and think of Tomi. "Trust me, her daughter is a chip off the old block."

"The egg don't roll far from the nest," Daddy says and chuckles.

Mama sobs into the phone and says, "I'm glad to hear you're doing alright, Annie."

"I am Mama and Daddy. You don't have to worry about me," I say. "I have to go now. It's late here and I've got some things to take care of..."

"You're not still in bed are you?" Mama asks.

"No, Mama," I lie. "I've been up for hours..." Lying to my Mama, Me and Reverend Goodnight are headed straight to hell, I think to myself.

"Good bye," Daddy says.

When they're off the phone I lie back onto my pillows and think to myself, Just when you thought the world had gone crazy and you couldn't depend on human nature, you wake up and everything is back to normal.

After I landed the balloon, or maybe crashed would be a better description, pandemonium broke out and I didn't get to have any private words with Tomi. He said he was happy that we were both safe and relieved that the Rigatoni gang had been captured along with Miz Hopkins. Luther got into an altercation with his brother and half the police force, but when the dust settled and the emergency room doctors pronounced me and Ida fit, we all separated and went home.

I'm not sure about my current status with Di Ponti. Maybe I have a job and maybe I don't. I got them a ton of free advertising. The name of the company is all over that big old balloon and it made the national news. If the public liked the revolving door fiasco and the head butting, shit slinging, street fight, they'll love my latest caper. On the other hand, after the mix up in the garden and seeing me naked with my legs wrapped around Luther, I guess Tomi has had it with me. He's probably in Brittany's arms right now being consoled.

I shower and get dressed in jeans and a tee shirt with a plaid flannel shirt over it. I put a pair of running shoes on and push my hair through the hole in the back of my Rangers cap. It's a dress down day and my dreams of making the cover of Women's Wear Daily have probably gone up in smoke. I hope Luis can keep his job with Di Ponti. I probably still have some power to sway them since the public will no doubt want more of me and Di Ponti will have to go along with it to keep the media happy.

When I walk into the living room something is different. There's a ceramic jack 'o lantern about the size of a baseball on the coffee table and it has something green sticking out of the top of it. Spiky green fronds are sprouting from the top like green hair. There's a card with a big balloon on it. I open the card and read...

Dear Annie,

I'm sorry for the way things worked out and that I didn't have a chance to talk to you after you landed the balloon. You were fantastic and Ma and I are very impressed. If you ever decide you'd like a career change we could probably find some work for you. I realize my methods are a little rough and over the top sometimes. I've had a little trouble adjusting to civilian life since my time overseas. I know, it's no excuse. I just thought you should know the reason.

It looks like you won't need me anymore. Keep the Smith and the phone as souvenirs. If you ever need me, just give me a call.

I found this little guy and he seemed to need a home. I thought of you. (He's glued to the pumpkin with waterproof glue) He's real easy to take care of because he lives on air. He's an air plant known as a Tillandsia. Just give him a good soaking once in a while and some sunlight and he'll be fine and you'll never have to come home to an empty house again. Maybe you could even name him. If you're looking for suggestions, how about Luther? Just a thought.

Anyway, I hope things work out for you. I've never met anyone like you before.

Yours,

Luther

P.S. I'll explain everything to Tomi and if he's really Mr. Right, he'll understand.

I put Luther on my window sill and wipe a tear from my eye. "Shit, Luther," I say. "Why couldn't you just keep being a jerk?" That's the trouble with men. Just when you think you've got them figured out they go and do something human.

I decide to make some changes in my life starting with my diet. I'm going to get some groceries and actually have grown up food in my own apartment rather than mooching off Luis all the time or eating at the deli across the street. I leave the apartment and head off to the grocery store. Just your average young woman, Jane Doe, casual clothes, no make-up, buying some grub for me and my... well that's the thing, isn't it? No one to buy food for... just me. I guess I could invite Luis over for a meal. I certainly owe him.

Healthy food, that's the ticket, I say to myself as I fill my cart with lettuce, tomatoes, kale, and stuff. At the checkout counter I scan the bloids and see a picture of Tomi on the cover of one of them and a picture of me and Brittany mixing it up on the sidewalk. The picture of Tomi shows him looking worried and haggard. Those bloid photographers are experts at catching a person at his absolute worst. Fortunately, no one recognizes Toilet Seat, Revolving Door, Shit Slinging, Balloon Woman and I make it home with my grub.

My phone rings that familiar ring tone when I finally get the food put away.

"Hello, Tomi," I say.

"Annie? How are you?" he asks.

"I'm okay, just a little sore from hanging by that rope and I got a few bruises when the basket hit the pickup, but I'm good."

"I'm sorry," he says and hesitates. I'm listening to dead air and wondering what comes next. Employment termination seems like one option.

"Annie, I'm so sorry I doubted you," he says and throws me for a loop. "I just had a visit from Luther Grolsch. He can be very persuasive when he wants to be."

And almost human, I think to myself.

"Yes, he's definitely a force of nature," I say.

"Would it be possible to have a bite to eat and talk about things," Tomi asks.

"Sure," I say.

"I can have a car pick you up now," he says.

"I'm sorry, but I need some time to get ready, Tomi," I say. "Could we make it in two hours?"

"Certainly," he says. "I'd like a fresh start, Annie."

"Me, too," I say and can't stop grinning.

I jump in the shower again and then I start styling my hair. I've got to look my best. I place an emergency call and Luis rushes over with his kit. When I'm made up and my hair is up he looks me over and says, "Annie, girl, are you sure about this?"

I nod and smile. "I have to know if he's the one," I say. "This is my chance, Luis. He finally knows the truth about everything. What do you think?" I ask and spin in front of him.

"I love the black skirt and gold lame blouse, he says. It makes you look like the princess you are."

"Czarina," I correct him.

"Yes, your highness," he says and curtsies. Luis gives me a good luck kiss and dashes off to prepare himself for his date with Ricky. It seems that whenever there's a turn in my love life he and Ricky have a fling, but unfortunately they seem to end badly for Luis.

I carry a black beaded clutch that is much lighter without the thirty eight that I've left under a cushion on the couch. I'll deal with that later.

# Chapter 25

I take one last look at my apartment. It's amazing how much different it looks with just a little straightening up and of course, my new friend, Luther Junior. I turn the knob and open the door and stand there gaping.

"Back up," she says and motions with the gun in her hand.

I back into my apartment and she closes the door behind her. "Back," she says and I back into the living room. She fumbles with the lock on the door and finally manages to get it locked all while keeping her hate filled eyes fastened on me.

"The party is over, bitch," she says. "I've had just about enough of you screwing things up for me. Surprised?" she asks and sneers at me. "Life is certainly full of surprises, isn't it?"

"It certainly is, Cheryl. I just don't understand," I say.

"That's because we were never formally introduced. My name is Cheryl Hopkins."

"Leah's mama?" I ask.

"That's right. Starting to understand?"

"Not really. Why are you doing this? What do you have against Tomi Di Ponti?"

"Not a thing, dear girl. That's the beauty of it. Everybody is looking for a connection and a reason as if those stupid old world feuds were important. The fact of the matter is, I'm in it for one reason and one reason only... money. For years I worked in a steno pool. Then the world started changing. I had to upgrade my skills and try to keep up as I lost my looks and struggled as a single mother. I slipped farther and farther behind. Then the internet came along and I started to see how to make more and to be able to stay home with my kid.

"So why didn't you just work online and stick to that?"

"Because online scams weren't enough. Not only that, the public kept getting alerted and I had to keep coming up with new angles. I made money, but not enough. I wanted more."

"So you went to work for Di Ponti?"

"Yeah, as an office clerk at nearly minimum wage. Middle aged, minimum wage and no prospects, but I have a beautiful daughter. When the receptionist job opened up I sent her in and she got it. I figured she'd be able to seduce that over sexed wop from what I'd heard about him. But for some reason, he didn't show much interest. Apparently, he likes models like you and that annoying redhead. But then I found out the company was in trouble and a new angle opened up."

"You're helping someone who wants Di Ponti to fail."

"Hey, you're a pretty bright girl. Brains and looks, too, just like me when I was younger. They don't want the company to fail. They just want it to stumble a little and then they'll take it away from Tomi and they'll build it back up. They'll cut the staff, outsource jobs and make it pay. They'll squeeze every penny out of that company."

"The only problem is that it isn't failing is it?" I say.

"No it isn't. Thanks to you and your screwball antics it's thriving. Now Leah is in jail and my plans have been ruined," Cheryl says.

"Then why this?" I ask and look at the gun.

"Why this?" she says and glares at me. "Are you that stupid?"

"Killing me won't accomplish anything. They'll just hire another model. The city is full of them."

"But not with your magic touch, bitch," Cheryl says. "Besides, it's personal now. You've fucked everything up and my kid's in jail. You're going to pay..."

We both jump when someone bangs on the door.

"What the hell?" Cheryl asks, uncertainly.

"Pizza!" a loud and familiar voice slurs outside my door.

"Go away! Wrong apartment!" Cheryl angrily yells.

There's a hesitation and then he bangs on the door again. "Pizza delivery... twenty three ninety five..."

"I said go away. You've got the wrong door!" Cheryl yells and glares at the door.

"Nope, this is the right place," he slurs. "Pepperoni and mushroom, extra cheese... Annie McCauley..."

"He's drunk and we'll never get rid of him," I say. "He's going to have the neighbors pissed and they'll call the cops."

"Who orders a pizza when she's going out?" Cheryl asks suspiciously. "You were going out when I met you."

"He's an old boyfriend. He delivers pizza. He gets drunk and pulls this shit once a month. If I don't answer the door we'll be up to our ears in cops."

"Okay," she says and waves the gun at the door. "Let the idiot in, but remember, I'll have this in your back and if you do anything stupid I'll shoot you and him."

I walk to the door and open it a crack. "This isn't a good time," I say.

"Twenty three ninety five," Luther says.

"Just go away, please," I say and roll my eyes.

"Extra cheese, just the way you like it, baby," he slurs.

"Will you please just go away!" I hiss.

Cheryl jerks the door open and steps back out of his reach. "Okay, Romeo," she says. "Since you can't take a hint, you might as well come in and join the party."

"Where's your hat?" I ask.

"I got dressed in a hurry and forgot it," he says and weaves on his feet as he walks in.

"You two get on the couch," Cheryl says.

"He's drunk and doesn't know what's going on. How about if I just pay him off and you let him go?" I plead.

"You want some pizza?" he says and leers at Cheryl. "Hey, a toy gun, very funny," he says and burps.

"You get on the couch," Cheryl says.

"Hey, I don't like your attitude," Luther says.

I sit on the couch and smile at Cheryl. "Okay, see, I'm sitting on the couch," I say and slip my hand under the pillow. I feel around a little and then I find the handle of the Smith and Wesson. "For god's sake, Luther, sit down," I say. "I have the situation in hand." I look at him and raise my eyebrows, but he just looks at me dumbly.

"Annie, I'm sorry," he begins and almost falls down.

"He's stinking drunk," I say to Cheryl. "Please?"

He's between me and Cheryl so I don't have a shot at her. If he'll just step aside I can try to shoot. He's weaving and almost giving me a chance. Then he says. "I got some nice pizza here, see?" He weaves a little as he opens the box and Cheryl momentarily looks in the box.

I slip the revolver out from under the cushion and squeeze off a shot as Luther lunges at her and rips the gun from her hand. He backhands her and she lands in a heap on the floor and lies there as still as the throw rug under her.

I put my hand over my mouth and start to hyperventilate. "Did... I... kill... her..." I gasp.

"Nope," Luther says and sits beside me on the couch. He wraps his arms around me and holds me tightly while I sob and break down. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" he asks me tenderly and pushes my hair out of my eyes. He gently rubs my back and makes cooing sounds and begins to rock me slowly.

"There, there, now, Annie, it's alright," he says. "You're okay and everything is going to be okay."

I look up at him and he's smiling.

"You're not really drunk, are you?" I ask.

"No," he says, "just worried about you."

"I'm okay now," I say. Cheryl is lying still on the rug. I can't even see her breathing. "Are you sure I didn't kill her?" I ask.

"Yes, she's okay, I just knocked her out," he says.

"How can you be sure?" I ask. "I shot her."

"No, Annie, you didn't hit her," he says.

"How do you know?" I ask. "We need to check."

"No we don't, Annie," he says.

"How do you know I didn't shoot her? I don't see any blood, but maybe she's lying on the bullet hole."

"Trust me, Annie, you didn't shoot her," he says.

"How can you be so sure?" I ask.

"Because the bullet hit me, Annie," he says and squeezes me tightly.

"WHAT!" I shriek. I pull away from him and look at the red stain spreading across the front of his shirt. There's blood on my blouse and leaking onto my couch. I feel nauseous and faint.

"It's okay," he says. "Looks worse than it is."

I lay him back on the couch and say, "Oh, my god, Luther, don't die."

He chuckles and says, "I'm not going to die, but I think you should call the cops. Ask for that jerk brother of mine. This will make his day." Luther closes his eyes. Though he's acting tough the skin is stretched tightly across his face in a mask of pain, his lips are drawn into a firm line, and his breathing is labored.

"Oh, my god, Luther, don't die," I say.

Luis is banging on my door. I open the door and he rushes in, but stops in his tracks, his eyes wide in shock. "My god, Annie, what happened?" he asks.

"I didn't mean to shoot him. I was aiming at her," I say.

"Holy shit! You shot Luther?" Luis gasps.

"Not on purpose. Look, he gave me a plant," I say and point to Luther Junior.

"A-w-w-w-w, isn't that sweet," Luis says. "It's a pumpkin air plant!"

Cheryl's starting to move and is moaning on the floor. "You have to call the police," I say to Luis. "Ask to speak to Martin Grolsch and tell him what's happened. I need to tie this bitch up so she can't get away."

"I think we should just shoot her," Luis says.

"Don't tempt me," I say. I get a knife and cut the cord off my least favorite lamp. Then I tie her hands behind her back as tightly as I can. She lets out a yowl of pain as I cinch the knot good and tight.

Then I'm back on the couch talking to Luther. "What should I do?" I ask. "Does it hurt?"

His eyes are closed and I don't know if he's conscious, but then he laughs and a trickle of blood leaks from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, shit, Luis, he's bleeding internally."

Luis is talking rapidly on the phone and trying to explain. After every sentence he says, "We need an ambulance right away, a man is dying!"

He's finally off the phone and I hear sirens in the distance. "What should we do, Luis?" I ask.

"I saw this thing on television once about first aid. When they're bleeding like that you're supposed to push on it to stop the bleeding," he says. "Apply pressure is what they said."

I put my hand on Luther's stomach and push.

He jumps and yells, "Ow! Jesus Christ, what's the matter with you? That hurts."

"What were you watching, a freaking cartoon?" I shout at Luis.

Mr. Nussbaum puts his head in the door and says, "What the hell is going on in here?"

"A man's been shot," Luis says.

"Oh," Mr. Nussbaum says shakes his head, muttering to himself and leaves.

Minutes pass and it seems that time is standing still.

"Luis, please go downstairs and bring them up here," I say as the sirens finally reach the parking lot behind the building.

Martin Grolsch is the first one through the door followed by the EMTs wheeling a gurney.

He looks at me and says, "Is he dead?"

"You wish," Luther says and opens his eyes.

"I live in hope," Martin says sarcastically.

"How can you say that?" I ask.

"I've known him a lot longer than you have," Martin says and sighs. "Well I can see you're not going to die."

Luther laughs and then coughs and spits up blood.

Martin reaches down and pats his shoulder and says, "Hang in there partner. You're a shitty brother, but you're all I've got."

"That's touching," Luther says. "I think you better call Ma."

"She's already on her way, in fact, I think that's her coming now," Martin says.

We all stop and listen and sure enough, it sounds like a large truck is driving down the hallway.

Ida storms through the door and looks at me and says, "Why did you shoot my boy?" Apparently Luis gave plenty of information over the phone.

"It was an accident, Ma," Luther says.

"He got between me and her," I say and nod at Cheryl who is slouched in the corner. "She was going to shoot us."

"Oh," Ida says and nods in comprehension. "What, are you too stupid to duck?" Ida asks and slaps Luther's arm.

The EMTs are wheeling him to the door. Martin points at me and says, "You, come with me." Then he turns to two uniformed policemen, points at Cheryl and says, "Take her downtown and book her. We'll start with criminal threatening and add more charges when we find out what happened here."

They lift Cheryl to her feet and escort her to the door. Ida puts her arm around me and says, "So, you took a shot at her? Good for you!"

"You're not mad that I shot your son?" I ask incredulously.

She shrugs and says, "He got in the way."

Luis whispers in my ear, "God, she's a tough old broad!"

# Chapter 26

I thought I was in a lot of trouble for shooting Luther, but as it turned out, Cheryl was irate and ran her mouth so much at the police station, despite being warned, the police soon had the whole story and let me go. Since it was Luther's gun and not mine, they didn't think there would be a problem. Marty was very nice and helpful and didn't seem to mind that I'd shot his brother. A little eyelash batting didn't hurt.

Ida went to the hospital where they removed the bullet from Luther. She talked to me on the phone and told me that the bullet hadn't hit anything important, as she put it, (kind of makes you wonder what she thinks of her son) and her boy would be fine. The slug had gone in his back very low and passed through under his ribcage so it didn't hit a rib and mushroom. If it had it would have done a lot more damage and would have taken more flesh with it.

Luther was resting comfortably. Needless to say, I never made it to my date with Tomi. I called and told him what happened and he was stunned. He offered to pick me up and wanted to help me, but for some reason, I didn't want to see him. Several hours later, I'm on Luis's couch again. I don't want to see my couch, not tonight, maybe never. The only other casualty was the half bottle of cheap Riesling. I didn't want to go in my apartment. There was police tape in front of the door anyway. I thought that might mean I should stay out, so Luther Junior would have to spend the night alone. Some mother I turned out to be, his first night with me and I leave him alone.

The next day I'm up early and feel fine. "I'm making changes in my life," I say to Luis.

He settles across from me at his countertop island and says, "What kind of changes?"

"I'm going to eat healthy food and make my apartment look like somebody lives there," I say.

"Well, that sounds good," he says. "Sounds like you're going domestic on me."

"Yeah, you know I feel kind of like... like..." I struggle for the word.

"Female? Motherly? Oh, my god! You're not..."

"Nope. Couldn't be," I say. "Nothing has been happening in that department, but you never know. I think I'm ready."

"You've straightened things out with Tomi?" he asks.

"Kind of, it's complicated," I say.

"Oh, god, what now, Annie?"

"Well, it's that damned Luther Grolsch," I say.

"Other than getting in your way when you tried to shoot Cheryl, what has he done?" Luis asks.

"He gave me that plant and he tried to save my life," I say.

"That's powerful stuff, but you're not telling me you have feelings for Luther?"

"Yeah, kind of. I'm just not sure. I have a dilemma."

"I should be so lucky," he says.

"I'm going to see Luther in the hospital and then later today I'm supposed to meet Tomi for..." I make quotation marks in the air with my fingers, "the talk."

"Well, pumpkin, just remember to pace yourself," he says and giggles.

--------

Luther is alone in the hospital and looks about as out of place as a man can look. If I'd turned the corner and saw Sasquatch in the bed it wouldn't have looked any weirder. There are things attached to him and his eyes are closed, his head back on the pillow. I sneak in soundlessly, but he opens his eyes and is looking right at me.

"Can't sneak up on you, can I?" I ask.

"I don't know," he says and grins ruefully. "You did kind of do just that."

He reaches out and I hold his hand. "Sorry about shooting you," I say.

"No problem" he says. "I had too much blood anyway."

"When are you getting out?" I ask.

"I'm planning on leaving first thing tomorrow whether they want to let me go or not. I'm just not good at laying around in a hospital," he says. "It's not like you hit anything important like a heart or a lung."

"That's sort of what your mama said," I say. "I guess it runs in the family."

"She raised Marty and me alone and I guess she's kind of used to it. One of us was always at the emergency room with a broken bone or something when we were growing up."

"Yeah, football, falling out of trees, boys will be boys," I say.

"No, we used to beat up on each other," he says.

Sheesh, some family.

I stand and hold his hand for a moment and feel the warmth of his body. He's smiling at me with that boyish look and my heart is skipping and doing that thing it does when I start to get excited. He seems to be able to read my thoughts.

"Why don't you sit on the bed?" he asks.

"I don't think I should," I say.

He leers at me and pats the bed. "Aw, come on."

"Not today," I say. "I just wanted to thank you. Whatever got into you to pull that pizza man stunt? It was certainly lucky that you did it while Cheryl was there. Talk about timing."

He's grinning at me and a light goes on in my head.

"Shit!" I say. "You have my apartment bugged, don't you? You bugged my apartment and didn't tell me. You were spying on me..."

"Geez, don't get so excited," he says. "I had to keep an eye on you..."

"I can't believe you bugged my apartment!"

"It wasn't over," he says

"You knew someone would come after me?" I say.

"I thought there was a good chance of it."

"You used me for bait, Luther?"

"I was close by."

"You set me up! You son of a bitch, Luther Grolsch."

"Well, you shot me."

"You got in the way!"

"You should be grateful, Annie."

"You could have gotten me killed."

"I saved your life."

"I was doing fine! You didn't save my life. I was going to shoot her."

"I distracted her while you got the shot off."

"Idiot."

"Ingrate."

"What?" I ask.

"Ingrate," he says.

"That's not even a word."

"You're beautiful when you're angry," he says and smiles.

"I'm angry when I'm angry."

"Why don't you sit on my bed and we can talk?"

"I have a meeting with Tomi and don't you roll your eyes at me!"

"He's not right for you."

"As if you'd know. I can't believe you bugged my apartment."

"Are we back to that again? You shot me."

"Are you going to keep throwing that up in my face? You bled all over the place. You owe me a couch."

"Ouch, this really hurts," he says and touches the bandages wrapped around his waist.

"Give me a break, you big baby. It's just a flesh wound," I say.

"When a bullet goes in one side of your body and out the other, it isn't a flesh wound," he argues.

"Hell, in Texas we call that a scratch."

"In New York we don't shoot the wrong person!"

"You suckered me in by giving me that plant and then... Oh, no, don't tell me...No..."

He's grinning like a jackass eating cactus and nodding his head.

"You hid the bug in Luther Junior! I can't believe you'd stoop so low."

"Luther Junior?" he asks.

"I can't believe I actually started to like you a little bit," I say and stomp out of the room.

"Say hi to Junior for me, honey," he calls after me and the hallway is filled with the sound of Luther's laughter.

--------

I walk up the three flights of stairs and rip the tape off my door. What the hell do the cops expect me to do, live on the street? They've had enough time to look in my apartment and they have our statements. I walk across the room to the damned little jack o' lantern that is leering at me from the window sill. Now that I think about it, there is a family resemblance, I say to myself. He has his daddy's idiotic grin.

I rip the felt pad off the bottom of the ceramic pumpkin and remove a small round metal disc, otherwise known as a bug or listening device in the creepy world of Luther Grolsch. I walk to my trash can, throw the bug in, and hold Junior over the open lid and say, "Like father, like son. Unfortunately, you're a chip off the old block, Junior." I hesitate and look at his pointy little fronds or are those leaves? I sigh and walk back into the living room and put him on the sill.

"Wipe that stupid grin off your face," I say. "I'm just not going to punish you for what your father did."

Then I retrieve the phone that Luther had given me and throw that in the trash. "There!" I say and smile. "That felt good. Take that, Luther."

I've got plenty of time so I dress slowly and do a good job on my hair and makeup. Tomi wants to talk to me and I want to talk to him. I have things to say to him and he says he has something to give me. I smile wickedly at myself in the mirror and say to myself, I have something to give to you, too, Mister Di Ponti... something you've been wanting for a long while. I'm wearing a slinky red silk blouse that I unbutton all the way to the snap on my bra. My hot short black skirt is slit up the side showing a nice thigh that I hope to wrap around that Italian Stallion.

You ride what you want to ride and I'll ride what I want to ride.

As I walk to the door I look into the living room and the light from the window gleams off Junior.

"Don't look at me like that," I say. "Your father had his chance."

I have my hand on the door handle and then there's a ringing sound coming from the kitchen. The phone is ringing in the trash can. I look back, sigh, and hesitate. Junior looks at me hopefully...

--------

The End

--------

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Here's a sample of the second book in the series entitled, "Annie's 2nd Chance"...

My life, since I moved to New York to be a high fashion model, has been a series of new experiences. For instance, I just woke up in the dark and there's a horrible odor. I seem to be lying on my side on top of squishy stuff. I should also probably mention that, since I am bound hand and foot, I can't move. I'd yell for help, but someone seems to have taped my mouth shut, at least I hope it's tape and not super glue. I recently had a bad experience with a toilet seat and super glue.

But there's no time to go into that now because I'm in trouble. My head is throbbing, which probably means someone knocked me out. I'd vomit, but my mouth won't open. I can't move to find out where I am, but I'm beginning to think I'm inside a dumpster. One minute you're getting ready to go to a corporate board meeting with the man of your dreams who may one day be the father of your children and the next you're lying in a dumpster.

As bad as that may sound, there's a more pressing problem. I hear a machine and some banging sounds and unless I'm mistaken that's a trash truck and it's working its way up a row of dumpsters toward the one I'm lying in. I try to yell, but it sounds like, hrmfma! hrmfma! I can't get any volume with the tape over my mouth. In a few more minutes I'll be dumped into a trash compactor on the back of the truck and squished into oblivion. I taste that metal taste like copper in my mouth that let's me know I'm scared out of my wits... again.

Dang it! How do these things happen to me?

I think to myself that the only thing that could possibly make my life any worse would be a rat and then, as if on cue, something moves behind me. A very large something is crawling toward me through the garbage. Not that it makes any difference since the inside of the dumpster, as we used to say in Texas, is as black as the inside of a cow, but I still close my eyes and try to fade into the trash.

Light filters through my eyelids and I open my eyes to find myself looking into two beady red eyes. An incredibly filthy little man is holding a lighter and staring at me with his mouth open. He looks like something the dog has been keeping under the porch and smells like it, too.

"Who are you?" he asks.

"Hurumf a hurmfa," I shout.

"What are you doing here?" he asks.

"Hake tap hofff," I say.

He rips the tape off my mouth and I scream, "Ouch!"

"Who the hell are you?" he asks again.

"Please, we have to get out of here or we'll be compacted," I say. "Please untie me."

"You're not tied, you're taped," he says.

"Well then, please un-tape me," I say, trying not to lose it.

"I don't know," he says and shakes his head.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"Well, obviously someone wanted you taped up like that or they wouldn't have done it. I don't like to get involved in other people's business."

The truck is now very close, perhaps at the dumpster beside the one I am lying in arguing with a human rat.

"Maybe it was just a practical joke," I say and try to laugh lightheartedly, though it sounds a little forced, sort of a cackle. "I don't think someone actually wanted me dead," I say and cackle again, though I can think of one woman who would gladly dance on my grave.

"I have to go," he says and gets up on his knees. He lifts the cover of the dumpster and a little light comes in. I can now see the stinking garbage I am lying on and also see the tape around my ankles.

"Please. I'll pay you. I have money," I say.

His eyes dart around the dumpster and then he reaches over me and lifts my purse from the garbage.

"See, I have a purse with money."

"You had a purse with money," the little rat corrects me and grins.

"Really? You're going to rob me, but you won't untie me?" I ask. I'm trying to hold it together, but I start to cry.

"Aw, gee," he says. "Alright, turn off the waterworks. I'll help you to get out, but it's going to cost you a hundred bucks."

"A hundred bucks!" I shout. "Back home I could get it done for a six pack and two Slim Jims."

"Well, I work on the metropolitan scale. New York is an expensive place to live," he says wistfully.

"Okay, just please hurry."

He works on the tape and soon has me free. I stand up and see the taillights of the truck disappearing up the alley.

He hands me my bag and I take out five twenties and pay him. He stuffs them into a coat pocket and crawls over the side of the dumpster and scurries up the alley into the shadows.

"Hey, did you know that truck wasn't going to empty this dumpster?" I angrily call after him. He ignores me and is gone, melting into the darkness.

"Yeah, he knew," a voice says from the shadows along the wall. "The first row of dumpsters is the Tip Top Trash Company. That dumpster you were in is Okay Trash, they haul tomorrow."

"Who's there?" I call out.

An extremely tall, cadaverous man appears from the darkness and says, "Me."

He reaches up to me and helps me out of the dumpster, swinging me to the ground like a five pound sack of sugar. He's so far up there I feel like I must be standing in a ditch and my neck is getting a crick in it because I'm leaning so far back to see him.

"I'll take that," he says and points at my purse.

"Like hell you will," I say. This would be a really good time to have a can of pepper spray or the thirty eight Smith and Wesson, but the pepper spray may be on my dresser at home. I didn't think I'd need it at a Board of Directors meeting and I can't remember if I brought it. As for that sweet little thirty eight, the police took the Smith and Wesson away when I shot Luther.

I fumble around in the purse while I try to keep the giant wraith busy with snappy patter.

'Um... Gee... Uh..." I say as my hand feels the smooth sides of the pepper spray and my finger finds the button on top. Yes!

"You wouldn't be stalling while you look for your pepper spray, would you?" he asks. Obviously a man of experience.

I whip it out and give him a blast directly in the face. Squirt, squirt, squirt.

"Hey, that shit stings." Then he sniffs and says, "That's not pepper spray, that's perfume."

Rats! "Oh, yeah, well when you go home and your wife or girlfriend smells that on you, you'll be in big trouble. How are you going to explain that?" I ask.

"For your information I happen to be between women."

"Gee, hard to imagine a stud like you isn't in a relationship," I say and cluck my tongue.

"Don't make fun of me. I can't help it if I have relationship problems. We aren't all beautiful or handsome, you know. I suppose it's easy for you. You probably clean up pretty nice when you're not crawling around in a dumpster."

"Huh! You think you have relationship problems. I have two men but neither one is right. I like stuff about each one of them, but there's other stuff that drives me crazy."

"I know what you mean," he says.

"Has this ever happened to you? You meet someone and think they're the one, but the next thing you know they do something and then..." I say.

"Yup, big deal breaker. Then you meet someone else and think they're the one and the same thing happens so you're wondering which one should I choose?" he says.

"I wish I could take the things from one man and put them with the things from the other man..."

"I know what you mean. I have the same problem with women. It takes two women to make one good one," he says.

"Or two men to make a good man," I say.

"I hear ya'."

"Look, you don't seem like such a bad guy," I say. "Can't you just let me go? I can give you a few bucks if you need money."

"It's been a slow night, but okay. I guess you've been through enough. It would have been a lot easier if you'd been dead. I saw them throw you in the dumpster and was waiting for someone to come down the alley to mug, but things were slow so I decided to go over to the dumpster to see if you had any jewelry or a purse. I thought you were dead. I specialize in mugging, not robbing the dead."

"Sorry to disappoint you."

"No problem. It's not your fault."

"You saw the people who did this to me?" I ask.

"Yeah, two big guys with no necks, wearing sport coats. When I saw Rudy the Rat jump out of the dumpster I realized he'd probably gotten anything valuable that you had. How did you manage to hang onto your purse?"

"I guess he felt bad for me," I say. "His name is Rudy the Rat?"

"Yeah, he's Rudy the Rat and I'm Zip or the Zipster," he explains.

"I'm Annie McCauley, Zip, pleased to meet you."

"That's quite a drawl you've got there. You're not from around here, are you?" he asks.

"You're right. I'm from West Texas."

"So, Tex, what are you doing in Manhattan?" he asks.

"I'm a model. I was on my way to a Board of Directors meeting at the Di Ponti Building. Tomi Di Ponti is my boss and he wanted me to help him hang onto the company. It's been going through some tough times and he thought that having the new spokesmodel there would help."

(end of sample)

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