by Leen Elle
by
LEEN ELLE
This Novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to events or locations is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2013 by Leen Elle
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
No part of this book may be used or reproduced, in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Dedicated to my Husband and
my Wonderful son -Jack-
"Sir Knight,
I am writing to you as a damsel in distress. I've been warned not to plead for your coming, because others may hear but I am loathe to submit to their counsel. I do not know your name but I pray you come on the speed of the wings of the dawn.
I long for your presence beside mine, your fingers in my hair and your eyes gazing longingly into my own. I long to feel your touch on my skin and feel your hand hold mine, our soul pressed in the age old dance of love.
I fear you may have gotten lost for though I seek you with the depths of my heart I have not gazed upon your face. Or have I? Oh say it is true!
I've thought myself, once, to have gazed upon your shining armor but alas it was only a dream. My heart sighing I turned away from it and have wandered this lonesome path since, pining for you to come to my rescue.
I am held captive here, slave to my solitary ways and drowning in my tears. I wait for your arrival like a bird waits to sing of spring. Eagerly I watch from my prison, trapped within these walls of my own design.
My soul burns with the weigh of affections denied, my heart heavy with the ardor I long to give you. When you come know you shall be welcome. I shall fly into your arms like a bird freed from its cage for that is what I shall be. I shall herald you with cheekly kisses, wrapping you in my expectant hugs…"
The clacking subsided as her fingers paused on the black and white marked board below, a single digit moving to hover over the key marked 'Bk Sp'. However, she was not the fool to throw her dreams away. Placing her hand on the run away mouse she manipulated him to the illumination on the screen bearing the title 'save as draft'.
The screen flashed and she blinked staring at it blankly for a moment. Had her world sank so far? Was her entire life contained within this metal box that whirred with the complaint of overuse and this picture screen hardly the size of a small moving box? Had she really packed up her life into such a space unfit for any but a cat perch?
Reaching up as stroked the head of her only affectionate friend and allowed the creature to roll its head against hers. The being mewed plaintively and she shook her head rising slowly to stretch any muscles weary of lethargy. The gray and white blob arched her back and oozed off the monitor falling in step with a questioning mer beside her owner's feet.
"Come along, Alex," she urged, knowing the feline would follow, "let's go make some dinner, shall we?"
The cat hurried ahead to climb the stairs, pausing several from the top she send back her complaint pertaining to a lack of speed past her swishing tail.
"I'm coming. I'm coming," Promise responded in a small manner of exasperation as she began to ascend the stairs; Alex waited impatiently at the top, her tail candy caning from side to side.
Closing the basement door behind her, Promise moved into the kitchen where Alex had already scaled the heights of the fridge. Maple eyes peered down at her pitifully as she reached in and popped open a can of tuna. Shutting the door with her foot she heard Alex thump onto the counter; she announced her presence with another mew.
"Selfish little thing," Promise chided, affectionately scratching the ying yang forehead. As was usual Promise, once Alex was content, settled down to her meal and another one sided conversation. "Another night alone eh, Alex?"
The cat purred a euphoric tune; her face and mind were so far in her bowl she hadn't heard a word. Sighing, Promise poked at her tuna sandwich and looked at her clock. She still had quite a few hours until she had to be at work. Maybe she should do some cleaning, she thought without movement.
Her alarm scolded her out of bed at 2:30 that afternoon and while she had cleaned some time a pair of yellow monstrosities gripped her hands and threatened never to let go. Ripping them from her suffocating fingers she hurried to dress; donning an unfitted smock covered in smiling fish and unflattering pants of the periwinkle persuasion she prepared to go in for her shift.
Attaching her ID to the pocket of her coat she entered an antique smelling building and smiled. Swinging her stethoscope about her neck she proceeded to the desk greeting her patients as she walked by.
"How are you Mrs. Davers?"
"Eh?"
"I said 'how are you, Mrs. Davers?'" she projected in a caring and patient tone.
"Good, child. Bless you for asking," the old woman responded with a lopsided grin. What must have been beautiful features drooped, bowing to time. Patting the woman's hand she promised her to visit later.
As she worked at the desk later that day a wrinkled hand interrupted her line of sight. An alarm tattled loudly close by and Mr. Wilkins a person deaf and partial blind stood unsteadily before her.
"I've…I've come to get my…my medicine," his hands stuttered, shaking with each motion. Taking hold of him gently she lead him back to the chair and helped him sit down appeasing the whining alarm. Pressing her fingers against his palm she told him patiently the nurses were coming. He settled back against the chair back his head soon lulling to the side. A patient beside him awoke with a start to his snoring.
The nurses about the desk chatted about nothing and everything as they worked on paperwork and filed papers. After arranging for three patients' doctors visits she stretched and decided to wander the halls to check on her patients.
She visited Mrs. Davers again as she had promised and made sure that Mr. Wilkins was settled comfortably in his chair. After making sure none of her more dependent patients were in need of assistance she approached the last name on her roster, Mr. Hillogans.
When she entered his room he was dozing on his bed the TV playing in the background. His wife, Maddie, sat in the chair watching the tiny screen. Hearing the door open she located the remote and clicked it off.
"I just can't bear silence; when Martin falls asleep…" she began to explain then trailed off looked up at Promise. The baggy skin on her face rose a little with her smile. "Well I should probably go. I was just waiting to hear… to hear how he was doing."
"He's recovering well, Mrs. Hillogans." The small wife and woman sighed thankfully. "Thank goodness for this establishment. Why I don't know what I would have done if…"
"It was our pleasure," Promise assured her moving towards the door, "would you like me to walk you to the exit?"
"Oh no, no surely you have something you should be doing."
"At the moment I…" A particularly loud bell rang through the halls causing a commotion that could be heard all the way at the end of the hall where she stood holding the door.
"Mercy!"
"It's the new patient. What's her name?" a voice asked more quietly as frantic fingers began flipping through papers.
"Her name is Ms. Damian," a nurse called as Promise stopped beside the desk.
"What's going on?" she demanded.
"Ms. Damian rang for chest pain. Anne went to check on her," Laurel informed her in a speedy manner.
"Have the proper steps been taken to…" Laurel nodded.
"We contacted her family and she's being sent to the hospital as soon as she's ready."
The rest of the night was pleasantly dull as everyone recovered from the adrenaline high caused by Ms. Damian's ches
t pain. When Promise returned home she shed her uniform and dropped onto her unattractively semi-lumpy bed; her covers were still ruffled from her haste earlier.
She was staring at her ceiling when she overheard the first mew and it made her smile. Making short kissing noises she called her merring cat up beside her. Rubbing the feline behind the ear she sighed away her cares. When she stopped Alex protested but Promise refused to respond; she was exhausted. When Alex bit her shoulder Promise shoved her off but rose.
"Guess I'm a little hungry too," she admitted; nothing tasted quite the same as a true midnight snack.
Selah Donavon stared at the pulsing line on the page pondering the implications of the newest thought skittering through her mind. The plot to her newest story required she gain an intimate knowledge of that desperate attempt known as online dating. She herself was opposed to the mockery of the human mating ritual; however, she was able to justify her cause for bringing up the site and putting her fingers to the board. It was genius!
Writing well required many tools of research. An author's dearest companions were an unabridged dictionary, an inclusive thesaurus, and the plethora of information available at the tip of her mouse's nose.
Marking the world of online dating up as an unconventional resource she prepared her profile. A twenty-six year old female from Harleysville, Pennsylvania who enjoys laughing until she cries, writing quirky stories, and creating new dishes to serve at her café. Her build was how had Dante put it when they were dating? Pleasing and her personality was electric. Well at least her smile lit up the room. She was trusting, spontaneous, and original. She thought herself a true catch with eyes of green and fiery locks of natural red framing the stereotypical Caucasian features of beauty.
Now she needed the perfect name; it had to be alluring yet innovative and all together reflective of her personality and purpose. It took several moments of thought; however, when she had it she had it. Typing the name in to her satisfaction she pressed submit and sat back; all she had to do was wait.
Clicking under his email his eye caught hold of an interesting subject line: new match found. Breaking the seal he let his eyes scan the contents within. Sipofheaven huh? Leaning closer he scrutinized her picture intently. She certainly looked to fit the claim. Venturing under her profile he found himself further intrigued. His eyes read:
I'm not here for romance. I don't believe in the legitimacy of matchmaking sites. However I am here because I believe that all writers should thoroughly research the topic they've chosen to write on. Since my newest masterpiece includes an online romance I'm here seeking someone who is willing to 'play house' with me.
Honestly when I feel ready for the commitment I'll be doing my own searching not letting someone else find me. I refuse to be a list of alluring qualities to some pervert who happened to be crossing the information highway at the time. Romance will come to me when it's meant to. I'm not so desperate that I need to look for it.
Nearly laughing at her boldness and assuredness of her needs he began to type a reply. Beyond her good looks this woman obviously knew her mind and wasn't afraid to reveal it. She was everything he had listed on his profile he discovered as he scrolled through and read more thoroughly. He was always up for a challenge; far be it from him not to challenge this beautiful woman's faulty view of manhood and love.
"Prom, that last chapter you sent me was amazing!" Turning to look over her shoulder Promise paused to allow her friend, Adelie to catch up. She was waving a stack of papers wildly about her ringlets of red. When she came to a stop Promise waited for her to catch her breath in silence; Adelie recovered quickly, never addressing the flailing white between her fingertips though using the hand to gesture. "When are you sending me the next? I want to know what his reply was! What her reaction is!"
"You'll just have to wait," the calmer female responded.
"This is your weekend off right?" Promise nodded hesitantly; the last time she had disclosed the information… she shuttered. The memory of spaghetti and Mozart was too much to handle.
"Yeah…but Addy…"
"You'll love him, Prom! I know my track record is a little shaky right now but…"
"I don't know; I was planning on cleaning this weekend," she returned lamely.
"Cleaning?"
"The house is a mess and…"
"Poo," she pouted, "you aren't even going to give him a chance."
"Adelie, I'm just not…"
"What's two hours on Saturday night?"
"Missed sleep," promise quipped good-naturedly yet with purpose. Sighing at her friend's silence she relented, "just this last time."
"You won't be sorry!"
"So you see…" her date continued bringing her closer and closer to dying of overheated brain cells, "it's quite simple really. The ram is the short term and the hard drive is where all your files are saved for long term access. Binary code…"
"Pardon me but what is binary code again?" he delighted in her feigned interest, rambling on for several more minutes about motherboards, megabytes and modems. He was starting into comparing Dell, Sony, and Toshiba when her cell phone rang. Motioning she had to take the call she hunkered down over the tiny speaker and pressed the receiver to her ear.
"Hello?"
"Prick?" Smiling at the affectionate term she resisted the urge to cry out in relief.
"Colin?"
"You sound desperate," responded his familiar voice, "who does she have you fixed up with now?"
"I can't say. He's sitting right here," she whispered in a polite horror.
"Tell him you have to go powder your nose," he answered, "I'll call you back in exactly 45 seconds. Walk quickly."
She stared at the phone for five of her precious seconds then rose and tossed her purse on her shoulder. "The lavatory calls," she excused herself sheepishly, hurrying to the shelter of the nearest facility; her phone rang as she ducked in the door and she fumbled in her haste to open it.
"Save me," she pled into the mouthpiece by way of greeting. Colin chuckled on the other side of the line.
"I underestimated how desperate you sounded a moment ago." There was silence then he asked, "what's the man's COD?"
"Cause of death? He's not dead, Colin," Promise chided.
"Good as for your purposes. You really have got to stop agreeing to these dates before I find you on my slab."
"You'd enjoy that very much wouldn't you, Colin?"
"It would help me understand you better perhaps," he said almost sounding contemplative.
"Just help me get out," she hurried, "the poor man probably thinks I fell in."
"Have you eaten dinner yet?"
"What does that…?"
"Have you?"
"Yes, I have," annoyed she continued, "I had a steak; he had the lobster if you must know."
"Dab some of that red stuff on your cheeks and tell him you must have gotten some shellfish in your meal. You're horribly allergic and he must take you home immediately. If he insists on taking to the hospital you know where to find me."
"Thanks," she breathed with great relief, "you're a life saver."
Slipping her phone back in her bag she quickly did what Colin had instructed and acted well the part of her dilemma. He insisted on escorting her to the hospital and she was lacking in color by the time he arrived, her hand braced on the dashboard to preserve her life. Colin was right; she may very well end up on his slab if everyone she dated drove like that.
The nurse on duty gave her a strange look when the man she had eaten with hurried explained what had happened. She stared at her fingers raising am eyebrow when the rash spread to her fingers but waited for the man to leave before passing judgment.
"Colin is in the morgue," the older woman sighed dismissing her from the room after the man had left.
"Thanks, Shyrie," Promise threw wholeheartedly over her shoulder as she descended the floors.
"That's a record time." Colin grinned as he saw her move into the theatre that looked
down onto his work area.
"The man drove worse than he carried a conversation," she sighed flopping into a chair and kicking of her heels, "I wasn't sure I was going to make it here alive."
"If not I would have seen you again," he responded with a smile as he inserted the scalpel into the man's chest.
"So what's this man's story?"
"Catastrophe you mean?" Colin inquired, "his stomach became a little too intimate with the business end of a gun."
"Any other wounds?"
"Just he bruises he sustained from falling down the stairs."
"Ouch," she responded with a wince.
"He also managed to…" Promise smiled listening to Colin ramble in about his findings. They had been friends since elementary school and he never ceased to fascinate her. One day she'd write a story about someone like him. That once in a lifetime friend that you could never let go but never hold too tight.
Selah blinked cocked her head as she looked at the subject line. Someone had replied so quickly? Exploring the email she immediately noticed the face. My, my if the man wasn't drop dead gorgeous.
Ok lady, you caught my attention.
Selah chuckled to herself at his bold approach. Most girls would have clicked out of the email then but she was intrigued. Could this be the type of man she was looking for to assist her in her work?
I'm always looking for new challenges and you posed one I couldn't pass up. I'll help you write that story but under one condition. You give me a chance. You say romance will come when it's meant to but who are you to say when that is?
I checked out your profile and studied your picture. You're everything I'm looking for, beautiful. Consider my offer but know even if you turn me down to help you I'll be after you baby. You're the one I want.
Email me soon so we can get started. I'm willing to try anything once. When do we start?
Astonished, she leaned back against her chair, thankful she'd opted for the model with the cushioned back. She hadn't expected such a quick response but she had never imagined a response like the one InYourDreams had sent. Was it safe to reply to? Was she willing to risk it? InYourDreams had been very forward with what he wanted; was she willing to accept his challenge as he had accepted hers? What harm could come of it?
