Saved By The Glass Slipper

by Markee Anderson

  He walked to me, pulled me into his arms, touching his lips to mine. “I love what’s in that nightgown.”

  “You don’t really mean that. You’re playing with me again.”

  “No, I’m not playing with you. It’s like I told you before. Now that I know what you’ve been up against for the past few years, I can honestly say I’m in love with you, even more than before.”

  I pushed him away from me. “Slow down, Romeo.” I knew this was exactly what I needed to hear. He was tearing down my barriers and I was almost hooked on Mr. Mark Dallas.

  He tried to contain his grin. “Right. Romeo.”

  “And no, I’m not Juliet yet. Give me a week and we’ll talk.” I stared at the bed and bit my lip. “Maybe I should sleep in that guest bedroom?”

  “You promised. Which side do you like?”

  “I never had a ‘side’ before. Where do you sleep?”

  “I’m usually on the side with the phone. That way, if it rings, I’ll be right there.” He pointed to the phone on my right.

  “Then the left it is.” I headed for the left side of the bed and after sliding down between the silk sheets, I watched Mark get in beside me. I stared at him. “I know this is a stupid question, but I know nothing about proper bed etiquette.”

  “Whatever you want.” He moved closer to me and kissed my cheek. “Just don’t kick me out of bed.” He moved down my neck and I stared at the ceiling. He kissed me down to the base of my neck, and I closed my eyes. It just felt so good.

  “I don’t trust myself,” I whispered, almost out of breath. “If I reciprocate…”

  “Feel free to reciprocate.”

  He lifted his eyes and stared at my solemn face, then moved to my chin. “You’re just so hot.”

  I turned to him and smiled. “If I just knew you a little bit better.”

  “That’ll change.” He leaned over to his side of the bed and flipped off the light. “You’ll see.” He pulled me to the center of the huge bed and snuggled with me.

  I kissed his forehead. “Good night, sweet prince.”

  “Is that all I am to you, a prince?”

  “I’d dub you king, but I don’t think they have those in this country, at least I’ve never heard of any. You’re the prince and I’m getting the glass slipper after you saved me.”

  He laughed. “Whatever works for you. But remember, I’m king in the workplace. I just need a queen by my side. By the way, I never got an answer. Want to work for me?”

  “Can I meet some of the governmental people before I make that decision?”

  “Oh yeah. I guess that might be a good idea. Which area of the company do you like the most?”

  “I’m not sure. Explain the games programming that you do.”

  He went into a great lengthy discussion about the type of programming and the software languages they used.

  “I could do that, too,” I said. “I’ve done things very similar to that type of work in undergrad. I even made a game about secret agents saving the world. I wonder what ever happened to that? The professor never gave the paperwork back to me.”

  “A game about secret agents?” he asked. “I wonder if that would work for our company?”

  “It was a fun game, too. You get to shoot the bad guys and take over the evil empires, with rules according to the country you chose. I loved that game.”

  He stared at me as if I was insane, but continued. “Well, we have a few tiers of workers. If you did work for the government, you’d make a lot more than the games programmers make. Also, the clients really want you badly and are willing to make you an extra offer as a bonus.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. If I remember correctly, if I sign you on, you’d get fifty thousand dollars off the bat. You have to stay a year, though.”

  “Did you say fifty…thousand…dollars?”

  “That’s just a signing bonus. Your salary would be six digits.”

  “Six digits? Like a hundred grand?”

  “At least.” He pulled me closer to him and started to kiss me again. “And if you marry me, you get my billions too.”

  I backed off. “Did you say billions?”

  “Yeah. I’m worth close to a few billion right now, I think. I don’t worry about money at all.”

  “A few…billion?”

  “Sure. When you own a company, you have a lot of investments that’ll pay off.”

  “Must be nice, but I’ll stick with my six digits if I take the job.”

  I studied his face and allowed myself to stroke his cheek. Gosh, he was really good-looking. I leaned over and kissed his lips while he just grinned at me. The kiss turned into more and I rolled on top of him, attacking his grin with extreme passion. Yep, I was definitely hooked now.

  “Don’t you think we should go to sleep now?” he asked as I kissed down his chest, pulling his tee shirt over his head.

  “Huh?” I stopped what I was doing and stared at him.

  “Remember, you wanted to wait until you knew me better?”

  “I did? Oh yeah. I guess I did.”

  He pulled his tee shirt back down over his beautiful chest, running my hand down his six-pack abs in the near dark. A nightlight gave the room a romantic ambiance, which didn’t help my libido.

  “When did you say we could go to Vegas?” I asked.

  “Tease,” he whispered. “You just want me for my money, don’t you?”

  “No. From what you’re saying, I’ll have my own, so you can keep your money.” I stroked his head. “You’re just such a nice person.”

  “Now you understand what I’ve been saying all along. It’s about time, huh?” He cuddled up to me and kissed me, then closed his eyes. I heard him start to breathe slower, then I drifted off into the sweetest slumber I’d ever had in my life. I was safe, I was loved, and I felt like I was finally home.

  ~~~~~

  “A-my.” The voice sounded very far away, so I turned over to my stomach and ignored it. It would go away, eventually. I was in a wonderful nest of a bed, and no matter what someone did; it wasn’t going to change. My dreams were even sweet. I think it was the smell of the sheets, because they almost smelled like roses.

  “A-my.”

  It was that annoying voice again. It was a nice voice, and I really didn’t want to wake up. But it seemed that it wasn’t going away, so I had to answer.

  “What?” I whispered.

  “Don’t you want to wake up today?”

  “Not really.” My eyes stayed shut.

  “A-my.” It was that voice singing to me again. I opened my eyes and saw the sheets around me filled with rose petals. Tons of petals of every color were everywhere. I looked all around me and they covered every inch of the bed.

  “Mark! We’ve been attacked by aliens disguising themselves as rose petals! Quick! Take cover!” I threw the pillow over my head, hearing him howl in laughter.

  “Amy, sweetheart,” he said, sticking his head under the pillow covering my face. “They’re not aliens. I promise.”

  “Are you sure it’s safe to come out?” I whispered.

  “You do have an imagination, don’t you?”

  I smiled at him. “You’re so sweet. I didn’t want to wake up because it smelled so nice. I was afraid it was all just a dream.”

  “No, my dear, this is reality. How do you feel today?”

  Taking the pillow off my head, I stretched my arms and smiled at him, then kissed his cheek. “I feel great. Best I’ve felt in years, actually.”

  “Good, because the plane leaves in an hour.”

  I sat up and hopped out of bed, careful not to hit any petals also covering the floor. “An hour? I don’t have enough time! I have to clean up these rose petals, we have to get through security—”

  “Private jet. Remember? An hour means about fifty minutes with ten minutes for travel time to the plane. And the rose petals aren’t your job. You’ll be fine.”

  “Oh.” I sat back on the bed with a thud. “D
id you have a shower yet?”

  “Yes, I did, but I can join you again if you want.”

  Studying his grin, I considered it, but knew it wasn’t a good idea. “I think I’ll be fine. I have to see John today and he’ll know if anything happened. He’s weird like that.”

  Mark started to walk out the door. “Breakfast will be ready whenever you come downstairs.”

  “Did you make me breakfast?” I asked.

  “I would have, but I didn’t know what you wanted. The chef is here, so—”

  “Chef?” I’d died and gone to heaven.

  He stopped and turned toward me. “Sure. Someone from the company only comes in when I ask them to, and I figured you’d want something good to eat. We’re kind of pressed for time.”

  “I’ll be down in about fifteen minutes or less.” I ran into the bathroom and hopped in the shower. I threw on some clothes, did what I had to do to make myself presentable and ran down the stairs, almost running into a woman standing in Mark’s kitchen. She was very pretty and about my age. Interesting development. So was Mark the type to have mistresses on the side, or what?

  “Amy, I’d like you to meet Brenda. She’s my chef.”

  “Hello, Brenda.” Why didn’t he date her?

  “Hi, Amy,” she said in a very high-pitched voice that was worse than fingernails on a chalkboard. I tried not to wince, pasting a smile on my face. So that’s why he didn’t date her. Mark walked away, biting his lips while trying not to laugh.

  “What’ll it be?” she screeched.

  “Uh, what do you have?” I asked in a low tone, trying to counter that voice.

  “Anything you want.”

  I just wanted her to be quiet. “I’ll have cereal, thanks. I can get it, too.”

  “There are cinnamon rolls out there…and tea,” Mark yelled from the living room.

  “Thanks.” I turned to Brenda. “So where are you from?” Mistake. Big mistake. She told me…no, she ‘dissertated’ at me, telling me at length about her childhood, her move from the big city of Fort Myers when she was three that gave her psychological scars, and so on, and so on and so on. I felt so sorry for her. No one, if they still had eardrums, ever talked to this woman. They probably didn’t want to hear her talk. I sat at the dining room table and listened to the woman prattle on as I ate my cereal and drank my cup of tea.

  “Ready to go?” Mark asked, interrupting Brenda’s lecture on the uses of cleaning supplies in the kitchen.

  “Sure,” I said. “I have to get my suitcase.”

  “It’s in the car.”

  “Huh?” I asked with my mouth hanging down. “But I didn’t even pack.”

  “Don’t worry. The chauffeur took care of it.”

  “Chau…” I shut my mouth. I wasn’t used to this sort of service, and I guess it showed, according to Mark’s peeling laughter.

  “Have fun!” Brenda screeched.

  “We don’t know when we’ll be back,” Mark said, picking up the jewelry box, the key, the piece of paper with the combination, and the baseball bat.

  “Are you going to a ballgame?” she asked.

  “Something like that,” I answered. I still wanted to lower my voice when I spoke to the woman. I wondered if she knew she was terribly annoying.

  As soon as Mark and I left the house, the chauffeur opened the door to a big black limousine. I got inside the extremely spacious back, with seats facing in each direction. After Mark joined me, the driver closed the door. Mark raised the divider between the driver and us and immediately moved closer with his arm going around me.

  “What do you think of Brenda?”

  “I can’t possibly see why you didn’t date her,” I quipped, staring at his face. “She’s just your type.”

  He laughed while touching his lips to mine. “You’re so funny. How did you like the rose petals?”

  “Absolutely wonderful. How did you do that…and why did you do that?”

  “I wanted you to have sweet dreams. You were so still all night long that I was worried you’d wake up from a deep sleep with a nightmare.”

  “Did you get any sleep at all?”

  “Sure. I slept like a log.” He kissed me again. “I liked having you there, more than you’ll ever know. It felt like I had a family.” He touched my nose and grinned. “You’re really cute when you sleep, too. Did you know that?”

  “How long did you watch me sleep?”

  “Just this morning for about an hour. I had some things to work out in my head and watching you sleep really put everything into perspective for me. I know where I’m headed now.”

  “Care to share?”

  “Not yet, Miss Poet.” He glanced out the window. “Oh, we’re here.”

  I joined my gaze to where he was looking and saw a huge plane on a private airstrip. The driver pulled up beside the stairs and we got out of the car. As I walked around the back to get my suitcase, Mark pulled me to him. “Not your job.”

  “But they’re my things, sort of.”

  “They are your things, but not your job. Now, come with me. I have to talk to you.”

  “Sure.” Having no idea what he was going to discuss, I was sure it wasn’t good from his tone. I hoped he didn’t want to throw me out of the plane while in flight. That would just tick me off…until I hit the ground.

  ~~~~~

  Chapter 5

  “I guess I’m not going to church today,” I whined as we stepped inside the beautiful private jet. It was decorated in silver, red, and black, with overstuffed chairs rather than airplane seats. There were tables near some of the seats and Mark moved me toward one of the biggest tables. Sitting across from him, I felt like I was in the principal’s office.

  “No, you’re not going to church,” he said. “Because you’d be a sitting duck there. If they’d kill the man in your apartment, it could be you next. Sorry, but no church.”

  “I knew you’d get out of it,” I muttered, looking around at the leather chairs.

  “I need to talk to you anyway.” He walked to the back of the plane and grabbed a folder, a laptop, some paper, and a book. “Buckle your seatbelt. The pilot’s ready to take off.”

  “Sure.” Doing as I was told, I realized I was riding backward. I hoped I didn’t get sick.

  Mark sat down, buckled his seatbelt and opened the file in front of him. “This is what the NSA told us they needed.” He stared at me with those blue eyes and I wanted to die. “This is completely confidential. Got it?”

  “Sure. I’m good with confidential. You should know that by now.”

  He read over his papers. “Not when you’re drunk.”

  “What was that comment?”

  He looked up at me and leaned over the table while whispering. “If the enemy ever finds out that you can’t hold your liquor, we’re all in big trouble. I’m supposed to desensitize you to that.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes. I had a meeting this morning with some very high up and classified members of the government.”

  I leaned closer so I could hear him whisper. “You did? When?”

  “While you were sleeping. It doesn’t matter.” He sat back and looked at his papers again. “You need to explain some of your thesis to me.”

  “Considering I don’t even have a copy of it and finished it a semester ago—”

  He handed me a book. It was plain and had a brown cover, with the title ‘Jolly Old Cryptology’ on it.”

  “Who thought up this title?”

  “Some joker. It’s your thesis.”

  “It is?” I opened the first page of the thick book and read over it. It sounded like my thesis, but my name was nowhere to be found. “So it is. What do you want to know?”

  “Explain the part in chapter twenty-one. The NSA guys are having problems programming it.”

  “Programming it?”

  “Yep.”

  “I see. Have you read to chapter twenty-one?” I leafed through to about page one-fifty.

  �
��Not yet, but if you can explain it to me so it makes sense, it’ll make sense to the NSA guys when you tell them.”

  I lowered my voice and closed the book, handing it back to him. “Oh, no. I’m not dealing with government agents. They’ll probably kill me if I even sneeze.”

  Mark started to laugh, handing the book back to me. “They’re not going to do that. I promise. Remember, this is all under the radar and no one in the government knows the NSA is coming to us at all.”

  I sighed, hating being in this position, then turned to chapter twenty-one again. “What do you want to know?”

  “I want to know how you do it. Explain your thesis to me.”

  “Oh, that’s easy, but I need a laptop.”

  He opened the laptop in front of him and plugged it into a hidden outlet in the floor, then turned it on. I watched as he clicked on a few things, then he moved it to face me and showed me some code. “This is as far as they got. Explain it to me.”

  I studied the code with my mouth hanging. They’d programmed some of my thesis, for real?

  The plane taxied to the runway and in the meantime, I went back a few chapters and explained what the current mindset was, then showed him on paper. The plane took off and as soon as it leveled, I explained some problems they had with their programming. I showed him a diagram of how things could be bent to change what they were currently using into something better, then told him in vague terms what would need to be done to the program to make it work, but never gave him exactly what he needed, on purpose. I still didn’t trust anyone. However, he had enough to keep the NSA guys going for a while.

  Mark stared at me with his mouth hanging wide open.

  “Does it make sense?” I asked.

  “Absolutely. It’s completely clear to me and I’m wondering why no one else has thought of this before. It seems like a natural progression for breaking any code. How did you come up with that?”

  I guess I had him snowed. “Research and a computer. Why?”

  “I wonder why the NSA didn’t talk to you themselves?”

  “I think they talked to Dr. Urban. I went on vacation when they were in his office and drove up the coast. I really didn’t want to talk to them.”