Love Vs. Illusion

by MJ Rodgers

  “It’s my business, too. If you get caught, you could screw up my plans.”

  “What plans? Why were you in the courtroom that day? What does this case mean to you?”

  “A.J., I can’t tell you. You’ll just have to trust me.”

  “I don’t just have to do anything, Coltrane.”

  He leaned closer, lowered his voice even more. “This time you do. You see, if you don’t agree to work with me on this, I’m going to tell Linbow that you’re Adam Justice’s sister and you’re on the island under an assumed name for the sole purpose of trying to find something to free your brother.”

  “If you expose me, I’ll expose you.”

  “Go ahead. I can afford to wait a few more weeks, a few more months even, and send in one of my operatives under an assumed identity. Can you?”

  The answer to that question was all over that lovely, stubborn face. Her desire to get her brother out of jail quickly was the chink in her otherwise intact armor.

  Zane would have preferred to have her agree to work with him of her own accord. But if coercion was the only way to get her cooperation, then so be it.

  Her lips tightened into two white lines as her eyes sparked at him. He found he rather liked the fact that she refused to concede, even in defeat.

  “Hi, I’m Deann Wells,” a very loud voice called suddenly from across the airplane aisle. Zane swung around to see a young, pretty woman with a breezy strawberryblond perm and a pert smile. He turned more fully in her direction and held out his hand.

  “Lamont Cranston,” he said. “And this is Margot Lane.”

  Deann didn’t even glance in A.J.’s direction. She wrapped her fingers securely around Zane’s hand, their inch-long pink nails scraping across his skin suggestively.

  “Hello, Lamont,” she said in a voice that told him she had no immediate intent of releasing his hand. While Zane was wondering how to gracefully disengage her grasp, a late boarder barreled down the aisle, forcing Deann to let go.

  “Make way, Dee,” a young, slim, dark-bearded man called as he rushed by to take the seat behind Zane in the back row of the small plane.

  Zane gratefully reclaimed his hand.

  “Some people,” Deann said in a tone that matched the frown on her brow.

  Zane sent her a small smile. He wasn’t interested in the lady, but he recognized that her obvious interest in him could very well prove of some use.

  “This is my first time at the park, Deann. How about you?”

  “Oh, I’ve been twice before. It’s great fun. You’re going to love it. Do you know that they allow coupling?”

  “Coupling?”

  “A man and a woman sharing their fantasies.” She paused to pass her eyes appreciatively over his shoulders. “Living them together.”

  “That’s nice,” Zane said, not able to miss the message Deann was sending. “Any other repeat attendees you see on the plane?” he asked more to change the subject than anything else.

  Deann leaned toward Zane across the aisle. She cupped the half of her mouth facing the back of the plane with her hand.

  “Only one I recognize is that guy who so rudely rushed by just a moment ago. He’s Ken Beyette. He’s overly impressed with himself. Spends all his free time hitting on me.”

  “Ladies and gentlemen, good afternoon and welcome aboard,” the pilot said over the speakers. “We’re ready to taxi to our runway. Our total flight time will be very short, just seventeen minutes. We’ll have you back on the ground in a jiffy. So, sit back, relax and enjoy the short ride to your Fabulous Fantasies weekend.”

  Zane gazed around the plane, memorizing the faces as he counted the ten filled seats.

  “This seems like a very small group to be going,” he commented to Deann.

  “There have already been four flights that have landed on the island today,” she said. “This is the last one. The island can only handle small aircraft.”

  “Why don’t they ferry their customers across?”

  “They don’t allow ferries or boats of any kind to dock at the island because the seas are too rough. Anyway, this is quicker.”

  “You said there are five flights? The park takes only fifty patrons at a time?”

  “Yeah, I was surprised at that at first, too. But that’s all they can accommodate.”

  “Why is the park only open on weekends?”

  “Maybe because most people can’t get away during the week. It would be hard for me. I’m a dental assistant.”

  “It’s strange they don’t advertise,” A.J. said from the other side of Zane. “I only became aware of the Fabulous Fantasies park because of that court case that’s been in the news lately. You’ve heard about it, of course?”

  Zane could see Deann didn’t look too pleased at the turn the conversation had taken. Or maybe it was the fact that A.J. had joined into it that caused her to frown.

  “That trial’s a bunch of bunk,” Deann said. “There’s nothing in VR fantasies to make you do something you don’t want to do. Those husbands are just trying to grab what they can get. I think all lawyers should be shot.”

  “Even the ones defending Fabulous Fantasies?” A.J. asked with a beautiful innocence.

  Deann bit her lip as she seemed to grapple with the dilemma any answer to A.J.’s question would pose.

  Zane flashed her a smile, determined to keep on her good side. “Do you know why the amusement park doesn’t advertise, Deann?”

  “No,” she said, thawing under the heat of his smile. “But I’m glad they don’t. With just fifty patrons, it gives you a chance to get to know someone better if you want, know what I mean?”

  Thanks to the look in Deann’s eyes as she asked, Zane knew exactly what she meant.

  A.J. KEPT HER ATTENTION focused out the window during the short flight, her ears pricked to pick up useful information from Zane’s conversation with Deann. It was hard to overlook the woman’s sexual innuendoes and Zane’s reciprocating attention.

  And damn hard to forget that a short time before, Zane had been showering that attention on her. His eyes had explored her face with such honest intensity it had left her breathless. There was something about this man that spoke directly to the woman in her, bypassing every single hard-earned reasonable brain cell in her head.

  From out of the corner of her eye, A.J. could see that Deann was gushing again, her well-endowed body flung halfway across the aisle. Whatever Zane possessed obviously had universal feminine appeal. And what was also obvious was that he didn’t care who was on the receiving end.

  A.J. crossed her arms over her far more modest chest. She was very thankful for Deann’s presence on this plane. Deann’s embarrassing behavior was a perfect reminder of what a woman looked like when she made a fool of herself over a man.

  Well, it wasn’t going to happen to A.J. Not again.

  Zane probably thought he had succeeded in blackmailing her into working with him. Well, they’d just see about that.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the pilot announced, “Fabulous Fantasies is just ahead.”

  A.J. focused on the scene outside the window as the theme park came into view. The small island shone like an emerald in the afternoon sun, the swirling waters of the Pacific surrounding its deep green like a shimmering blue halo. It was lovely, picture perfect.

  The pilot cut the engines back as he circled over the sea and then the forests in a gradual approach. From the lighter green color of the vegetation on both ends of the landing strip, A.J. judged that at one time it had been a lot longer to accommodate larger aircraft.

  Their plane touched down with a small thump and then the reverse thrust of the jets echoed throughout the small cabin. They taxied to the entrance of an enormous gray metal building with a large black mound of volcanic rock rising from its rear.

  A heavy, extrahigh, chain-link fence with barbed wire netting on the top circled the sides and back of the building. This razor fence surrounded the lauding strip, as well. Signs had been post
ed at various intervals, warning of its hazards.

  As for the building itself, it was windowless and looked a lot more like a World War Two airplane hangar to A.J. than a housing for an expensive amusement park. A simple black-and-white sign set above its single door read Fabulous Fantasies.

  A.J. noted the shocked look on the faces of most of the other passengers as they disembarked. She was obviously not the only one surprised at her first sight of the facilities.

  “All that money for this?” a comfortably chubby, gray-haired man in his early seventies grumbled to the comfortably chubby gray-haired lady of the same vintage on his arm. The two had been sitting in front of A.J. and Zane during the flight.

  “Now, dear, the kids told us it wasn’t one of those plush places, remember?” she answered. “Just be patient. They said we’d be pleasantly surprised.”

  The passengers descended the metal stair ramp that had been pushed up to the plane. The temperature was a comfortable sixty. An island breeze, pungent with the salty scents of the nearby sea, rustled against A.J.’s sweater and slacks.

  A whiff of distinctive sandalwood and sage preceded Zane’s slight brush of her arm at the bottom of the stairs. “At least the weather is nice,” he said, as though reading her thoughts.

  A.J.’s traitorous body tingled at his touch. She moved quickly away as the group approached the drab building. Two smiling young women emerged out of a single door located beneath the sign and hopped down the two steps. Both were clad in white jumpsuits with the initials FF in red felt on their breast pockets.

  “Welcome to Fabulous Fantasies!”

  After their hearty hello, the greeters wasted no time in ushering everyone into the large hangar-type structure through a small door at its front. A.J.’s initial surprise at the building deepened when she stepped into the simple entry hall.

  She knew money and good taste could achieve a certain type of simplicity. This was not that type, however. The walls of the building were plain white stucco, and beneath A.J.’s shoes was what was euphemistically referred to as black-and-white tile squares, but which was in reality what her old-fashioned grandmother called linoleum.

  A.J. immediately noted that there was a green light above the door and two TV cameras mounted high on the opposite walls. The theme park was obviously knee-deep in security, and Linbow was not attempting to hide it.

  And why should he? Just knowing he had taken these precautions would probably deter most from making an attempt to steal his secrets.

  Of course, A.J. knew that blocking a closed-circuit surveillance TV was no major problem—not with a signal generator, an oscilloscope and access to the cables.

  Unfortunately, since she had none of those things, it presented a big problem if she wanted to get out the door when the green light switched to red.

  The unpleasant drone of an overworked air-conditioning unit blasted out of several ventilation ducts in the ceiling. But even at full blast, the air seemed heavy and exceptionally moist inside the windowless structure. A.J.’s sensitive sinuses immediately clogged.

  As one of the young greeters led Deann and Ken to the left side of the hallway, the other greeter ushered the rest of the group into a room on the right.

  A.J. alighted on one of the well-worn plain wooden chairs that were bunched together at one end of the long narrow room. Zane slipped onto the seat beside her.

  He smiled at her disapproving look.

  “We shouldn’t be seen in each other’s company so much,” she protested. “If I were on assignment with one of my operatives, we’d stay clear of each other until there was reason to meet in order not to draw attention to ourselves.”

  He edged closer, whispered in her ear. “You’re not on assignment with one of your operatives, A.J. You’re here with me, and from now on I’m your shadow.”

  A totally inappropriate wave of warmth bubbled up her back. She knew if she was going to keep her unwanted physical reactions to this man in check, she was going to have to ignore him as much as possible.

  But it irritated her that she couldn’t ignore the warm feel of him beside her, that she was conscious of the entire length and breadth of his powerful body and that after several days she could still taste the hunger of his kiss.

  “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Fabulous Fantasies,” a petite, fortyish woman with short brown hair, large brown eyes and a perfectly round face said as she stepped onto a small platform at the front of the room. She was wearing a bright red business suit and an even brighter smile.

  “My name is Dr. Clarise Ingram. I am your program coordinator here at Fabulous Fantasies.”

  A.J. recognized Clarise Ingram’s name immediately. In the background checks her people had done on the employees at the theme park, Ingram had stood out. The woman possessed impressive credentials and an impeccable reputation.

  Or she had, anyway, until it had gotten out that her highly publicized studies on the importance of fantasy to the human psyche contained major statistical errors. Considering the subsequent scandal surrounding that news, A.J. wasn’t surprised that the only job Ingram could get was at this rinky-dink theme park.

  “I could try to tell you what you’re about to experience here,” Ingram was saying, “but believe me, it will be much more effective and fun if we just give you a preview of the coming attractions.

  “So, in a moment, the attendants will show you to a private viewing room with a fiber-optic bed and mask. By connecting yourself to them, you will be introduced to a sample of the virtual reality fantasies that you may select to experience during your weekend here at Fabulous Fantasies.”

  Ingram paused to gesture at the young men and women who had positioned themselves in front of a series of smaller rooms at the right. The two women were the ones who had greeted the plane. The men wore the same jumper uniforms and enormous smiles.

  “To activate the sample programs,” Ingram continued, “simply remove your shoes, lay on your back on the special bed, rest your head on the pillow and place the mask over your eyes and ears.

  “After your sample program, an attendant will show you to your room,” Ingram continued. “Dinner will be at six-thirty. All meal times are posted in your room. Meals are served in the dining hall, which adjoins this room.”

  Ingram turned and pulled back a flimsy accordion-type wall behind her to reveal the tables. To A.J., the dining hall looked more like a coffee shop, and not a particularly upscale one, either. The same linoleum lined its floor. The round, Formica-topped tables were set for six and were surrounded by ice-cream-parlor style cane-back chairs.

  When A.J. remembered how much she was paying for this weekend and how high the bribes had been to get her here in two weeks, she began to appreciate the sucker born every day idea on a whole new level.

  “Between fantasies,” Ingram was saying, “you may wish to socialize with other guests in the large recreation room on the other side of the hall, which will have fresh fruit and beverages available at all times.”

  She paused and pointed to her right.

  “We also have a fully equipped exercise room for those of you concerned with maintaining muscle tone. Your attendant will point out both of these areas to you.

  “The only thing we ask is that you remain within the building during your stay here with us. This request is for your own safety. The island terrain is exceptionally rough and there are wild animals beyond the fences.”

  For the first time, Ingram lost her bright smile. “They are very wild and dangerous, ladies and gentlemen,” she said in a somber voice. “So, please, stay inside the building.”

  Ingram’s smile reappeared.

  “Of course, if you have a fantasy about confronting dangerous wildlife, we can provide that in the safety and comfort of a VR experience. So, now, to find out those individual preferences, please follow the attendants’ directions as they take you into the wonderful world of Fabulous Fantasies.”

  A.J.’s attendant had a ponytail as long
and dark as hers, several nose rings and a name tag that read Tripp on his white jumper pocket beneath the embroidered FF. He ushered her into a small room off the large one.

  A.J.’s viewing room turned out to be a windowless cubbyhole with the same plain white stucco walls and blackand-white linoleum floors as the rest of the hangarlike structure. The room contained a single-size, extralong bed with a white-sheeted mattress, a thick white pillow and a feathery white mask attached to the back of the bed by glistening silken fibers.

  Remembering Ingram’s directions, A.J. removed her shoes and lay down. She immediately sunk a couple of inches into the soft, giving material of the pillow and mattress.

  She picked up the lightweight mask, set it over her eyes and fitted it to her ears. It was soft against her skin, a velvet blackness beneath its thick-weaved mesh. A speck of light appeared almost instantly as the muted sounds of soft, melting music reached her ears.

  Then, from within the center of the light, shapes began to form and come into focus.

  A.J. found herself standing at a counter. On the other side of that counter was Clarise Ingram. Behind Ingram was a multicolored sparkling sign that said, Welcome To The Fabulous Fantasies Travel Bureau.

  The colors were vibrant, the textures and shapes true to life. A.J. ran her hands over the oak counter before her. She could see the grain in the wood, feel the polish that had been recently applied. She looked at Clarise Ingram. She, too, was accurate in every detail.

  “Hi,” Clarise said. A.J. could have sworn the woman was looking right into her eyes.

  “Hello,” A.J. said a bit hesitantly, surprised to hear how natural her voice sounded.

  “You have just entered the very special travel bureau of virtual reality,” Clarise said. “We’re going to walk down a hallway now to see the different programs we offer here at Fabulous Fantasies.”

  “You’re a computer program,” A.J. said, trying to remind herself that she couldn’t trust her senses anymore. “None of this is real.”

  “It will be as real as you allow it to be,” Ingram replied. “Aren’t you here to have fun? To let go?”