Smith's Monthly #21

by Smith, Dean Wesley

  He had insisted that before he would do anything for them, he could talk to Steph every night. The kidnappers had agreed.

  “Sure thing, kid,” the guy said. He reached into his coat pocket and flipped Danny a cell phone. “Just hit redial.”

  He did as the man told him to do, then listened as it rang on the other end twice before Steph answered. “Danny?”

  “Steph?” he said, the relief he felt flooding through him, making his knees weak and his eyes water.

  “Are you all right, Danny?” she asked, her voice barely able to sustain the question.

  “I’m fine,” he managed to say. “How are they treating you?”

  “They’re keeping me locked in a bathroom,” she said, “but they are feeding me and they haven’t touched me.”

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you, too,” she said.

  The phone went dead.

  He handed the cell phone back to the guy and he put it in his pocket. “You want to see that wonderful wife of yours again, you’ll play along tomorrow.”

  “I’ll do what you asked,” Danny said.

  “Good,” the guy said, patting Danny on the shoulder as he headed for the door. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow evening for the grand reunion with your wife.”

  Danny could only nod as the man opened the door, glanced in both directions, and then turned toward the elevators.

  The door banged closed.

  In all his life Danny had never felt so alone as he did right at that moment.

  He stared at the closed door for the longest time before returning to the couch to try to watch television.

  It was going to be another long, sleepless night.

  A very lonely night.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Sunday, April 9th

  6:00 a.m.

  THE WAKE-UP CALL and the sun behind the pulled drapes came way, way too early, as far as Bonnie was concerned.

  Craig grabbed the phone, listened for a moment, hung it back up, and then just lay beside her half-snoring, half-moaning.

  She had the alarm clock set to go off ten minutes after the wake-up call, and if she had anything to do with it, she was going to make sure she used those ten minutes to get as much sleep as she could.

  But the wake-up call stirred the memories of what had happened yesterday, and last night.

  After the second trip to the cart shed and the discovery of the stairs up into the service area, she and Craig, along with Maxwell and Hagar, had spent two hours planning the protection of the Senator today. Hagar was going to bring in an extra three men, and Maxwell would also have extra men on duty, but he never said how many.

  Bonnie never expected to meet any of them. More than likely, knowing how efficient Maxwell had been so far, those extra men would be posing as staff, or even playing in the group ahead of the Senator.

  By the time midnight had come around, they had ways figured to keep the Senator completely covered from the moment he left his room to the moment he got on the plane headed for Washington. And as Maxwell assured them, even beyond. Even the plane he was due to fly on would be double-checked and all baggage scanned with special equipment.

  Bonnie lay there, letting the conversations from last night go through her mind as Craig snored lightly beside her.

  Maxwell had told them he had an idea as to who might want Senator Knight hurt. He had gone on to describe Charles Robins and the relationship between Robins and Senator Knight, including the vote on Monday in Washington in the Senator’s committee that would surely cripple Robins’ companies. The two men had never met, but were deadly enemies.

  “Robins has enough at risk to hurt a United States Senator to stop it?” Bonnie had asked.

  “More than enough,” Maxwell had replied. “But we don’t know for sure that he is behind anything. It could be literally anyone.”

  “Or that anything is even going to happen,” Craig had reminded them. “We’re still only acting on what we overheard by accident.”

  “Which is why we can only protect the Senator and see if anyone makes a move,” Maxwell had said.

  None of them liked that option, but there just wasn’t any other plan as far as they could figure.

  Now Bonnie lay in the bed waiting for the alarm to go off, listening to Craig snore, trying not to think about what the day might bring. There wasn’t going to be any more sleeping for her, that was for sure. And if she couldn’t sleep, Craig shouldn’t be able to either.

  She flicked off the alarm and rolled over to cuddle with him, putting her naked body the entire length of his back. His skin felt wonderful against hers, firm and smooth and warm.

  She rubbed her hand over his unshaven face and then down his chest.

  He moaned softly and then rolled toward her and onto his back.

  She pushed the covers back so she could see what she was doing in the early morning light coming through the curtains. He didn’t move or open his eyes.

  She wondered how long he could stay still with her against him. As it turned out, not long. He nuzzled his chin into her neck, letting his unshaven stubble brush lightly against the sensitive area under her ear. The motion sent shivers down her spine and she pushed against him.

  Their parking in the cart garage last night had been rudely interrupted and they had been too tired by the time they got back to the room to even think about finishing. But this morning was another matter.

  Just the thought of what they had started last night in the cart got her even more excited.

  She glanced at the clock. They didn’t have much time if they were going to meet Hagar for breakfast.

  But they had enough.

  To be continued…

  Hanna had a job and a life that just didn’t let her meet men. So her boss invited her into a very special book club.

  One night Hanna decided to take The Romance Novel Challenge. With luck she just might live happily ever after.

  This might just change forever how you look at book clubs.

  Published under the pen name Dee W. Schofield.

  THE ROMANCE NOVEL CHALLENGE

  ONE

  Hanna Wurmbrand sat on her couch staring at the thick, brown envelope that had just been delivered. The special delivery package lay on her apartment’s brown carpet next to her front door like it was a snake ready to bite her.

  She had dropped the package once she realized what it was.

  She had been expecting the package, yet it still had surprised her when the Fed Ex guy handed it to her.

  She had closed the door, dropped the package, and then backed to her couch like moving away from a wild animal.

  The entire idea had seemed like such a good idea at the time. A daytime-talk-show-idea to spice up her sex life.

  Problem was Hanna Wurmbrand never watched daytime talk shows. In fact, she seldom watched television and she had no sex life.

  At least she hadn’t until tonight.

  Tonight, thanks to that package, she might actually have a sex life again.

  Hanna didn’t even have a boyfriend and she hadn’t had a date in a year at least, even though at five-three, long black hair, and a model’s body, she was very attractive.

  She got lots of those “looks” and some women called her “stunning.”

  She had had more than her share of dates back in high school, even though she was considered one of the “brains” of the place. And in college she went with Dave Pennant for most of the five years before he went slightly crazy and joined the Marines.

  He had told her that killing the enemy took precedence over their relationship. She would have been fine if he had said, “defending the country” or “doing his civic duty” was more important. She could understand that, but Dave had said he would rather kill people than be with her.

  That didn’t do a girl’s self respect any good at all.

  She had had sex with exactly nine different men in her twenty-four years, with most of the encounters being short and no
thing to even bother writing in a diary if she bothered to write in a diary, which she didn’t.

  Over the last year of no sex she had tried to remember a few of those encounters, but the only thing that came to mind was sweat dripping in her eyes and a lot of grunting.

  Nothing at all romantic.

  Every time she had felt like more of a conquest for the guy instead of a heroine being swept off her feet by a hero of a romance novel. Was there anything wrong about wanting to be swept off her feet? Clearly there must be, because it had never happened to her.

  She had graduated from college a year before with three degrees, one in English and two in computer science.

  She had the degrees after five years of college, but no boyfriend.

  No hero.

  She took the first job offered right out of college, a government job doing computer work for the CIA trying to track down any kind of threat to the country.

  Mostly the job was her sitting in front of large computer screens and trying to find patterns in massive amounts of data. It had sounded exciting at first, being on the front lines of the war against terror, but that excitement wore off after a few weeks.

  She was good at her job and she did feel she was helping her country. And it paid well, but wow was it boring.

  Every day she drove alone to work in her fancy new red Mustang, on nice days letting her long black hair fly in the breeze just like a romance heroine.

  She always parked in a large parking lot in her assigned spot, went to a gray-walled office, and sat in front of two large computer screens. She only talked to the other three women in the office and her boss, Constance, all of whom were happily married and who mostly talked about their kids.

  Sometimes the women around her talked about trying to find her a man, but it never had gone anywhere.

  There were a lot of men in the building, mostly wearing gray suits with tight collars and thin ties. They seemed to all carry briefcases and not a one of them seemed to give her a second look.

  She usually had lunch alone or with her coworkers, then went home alone at night and read romance novels until she fell asleep to wake in the morning and start the routine over again.

  On the weekends she either worked extra or went from Washington up to Newark to her parents’ home where she couldn’t talk about her work and never met anyone.

  Twice her parents had tried to set her up on blind dates. Both times had been a disaster. One guy she had tossed her drink on before the salads arrived at dinner.

  It had been one year of the same routine at work. She was shut off from the world, friendships, and any chance of meeting a man even for casual sex.

  It was enough to drive any normal young woman to extremes and a growing collection of vibrators.

  Three months ago she had finally tried a dating service, only to cancel before all three dates the service set up for her. With Constance’s permission, Hanna had run background checks on the three men while at work and all three had turned out to be losers.

  One even had a stalking case pending.

  Now, thanks to Constance, she had decided to do what was called The Romance Novel Challenge.

  After Hanna’s last attempt at the dating service, Constance had called Hanna into her office, closed the door so no one could overhear them, and then had sworn Hanna to secrecy.

  Hanna had thought it was about something going on at work until Constance asked, “You getting tired of spending the night with vibrating appliances?”

  Hanna started to deny everything, then laughed. “I have a few special ones I’ve grown fond of.”

  “I thought so,” Constance said, smiling.

  Constance was an attractive blond with extra large breasts that she kept tightly contained in gray or brown suits. Just as Hanna did, Constance kept her hair pulled back tight and pinned while at work and kept her makeup at work to a minimum.

  But under that hidden shell, Hanna knew Constance had a spirit of adventure.

  She was married to a man named Ben whom Hanna had never met, but he looked handsome in the photo on Constance’s desk. Hanna had heard all kinds of stories about the two of them going skiing, camping, surfing, and other things. They didn’t yet have kids, so they liked to have “adventures” as Constance called them.

  “So why such a personal question?” Hanna had asked.

  “I have a special invite to extend to you,” Constance said and then went on to tell Hanna about The Romance Novel Challenge, calling it the best thing she did for her marriage.

  It seemed that Constance and her husband were both members of a very special book club.

  “The rules of the book club are simple,” Constance had said. “A new romance novel is mailed sealed to two members. By the luck of the draw, two members of the club, one man, one woman, are paired up.”

  “And you have no idea who does the pairing?” Hanna had asked, still thinking Constance was pulling some sort of joke, even though it wasn’t her style.

  “No idea and I don’t want to know,” Constance had said. “With the unopened package, the book club member is sent to an assigned hotel suite where he or she meets a partner for the night.”

  “A dating book club?”

  Constance had just shaken her head no and went on.

  “The hotel suite is always fancy and is paid for by the monthly dues required to join the club. Both members of the book club, without talking, open their package at the same time and then take turns reading the supplied novel in the package to the other person while sipping champagne in the hotel suite.”

  “Now that’s kinky,” Hanna had said and Constance just kept going.

  “No names are allowed except for the character names in the novel. The woman takes the heroine’s name, the man takes the hero’s name. When they reach the first kissing scene, they have to follow and act out what happens in the scene.”

  “And if it’s a sex scene?” Hanna had asked, now starting to understand what this book club was all about.

  Constance had just smiled. “They have to act that out as much as is possible inside the hotel suite. Then, without exchanging any names or personal information, they have to leave the hotel room, taking their books with them.”

  Hanna had been shocked and Constance could tell.

  “Come on, Hanna,” Constance had said. “You can’t tell me you’re a prude?”

  “Far from it,” Hanna had said. But inside she wasn’t so sure.

  Constance went on to tell how she and her husband attended the book club night once a month with different partners, then took their books home and finished the two books with each other the rest of the month, acting out every scene.

  “And you never ask about the other person?” Hanna had asked.

  “Never,” Constance had said. “We both know what happens. The reason we are members is the excitement. And we both love to read, of course.”

  “Of course,” Hanna had said.

  Now Hanna sat on her couch staring at the special delivery package on her floor by her apartment front door.

  It contained a book, a romance novel that would change her life if she let it.

  Tonight was the night. She had gone through all the steps, been vetted by who knew who, signed all kinds of papers, and had paid the first month’s fee of three hundred.

  Since she had started the process, Hanna had to admit she had gotten more and more excited at the idea.

  Constance had told her that some nights were pretty mild, other nights were wild and crazy. It all depended on the novel. And how much each person got into their character’s role.

  Hanna went over and picked up the package, resisting the impulse to hold it at arm’s length.

  It clearly had a book inside. She really wanted to open it, but instead she just looked at the address typed in the return address area.

  Suite 611, Hyatt Regency Hotel. Seven P.M.

  She glanced at her watch. It was four now and it would take her an hour to get to the Hyatt if traff
ic was bad. She had better get going.

  She turned toward the bathroom, dropping the package back on the floor near the door.

  She had a new book to read this Saturday night.

  She just didn’t know what the title or the plot was yet.

  TWO

  By the time Hanna made it across town to the Hyatt, she was early and scared to death. Her stomach was doing flip-flops and even with the night air being cool and the roof up and air conditioning on in her Mustang, she was sweating.

  She got the key to the room from the front desk and then ducked into the restroom off the plush, plant-filled lobby. She put cold water on a towel to try to cool her face. But even the cold towel and two Tums didn’t help the twisting in her stomach.

  This had just seemed like such a good idea at the time.

  And she did so love romance novels.

  But even though she worked at the CIA, she just wasn’t the adventurous type. She much more wanted a real hero to come along and sweep her off her feet to live happily every after.

  Tonight might have a happy ending or two involved, but it sure wasn’t a romance, anymore than a night home alone with her favorite vibrating appliance was a romance.

  She stared at herself in the mirror.

  She looked good, ready for a night on the town. He long black hair flowed around her face. Her shoulders were naked and the lace along the top of her black dress accented her breasts. Plus she had on her best underwear.

  “You’ve gone this far, Hanna,” she said to herself.

  Her voice sounded as hollow as she felt.

  This was stupid, but after a year, even stupid started to sound good.

  She turned and headed back out into the lobby.

  Hanna knew that all romances had meet-cutes where the two characters would meet and fall in love and then eventually hop into the sack, sometimes before trouble hit them, sometimes after.

  Meeting her date tonight would be far from a meet-cute. More like a meet-scared-to-death.

  As she went toward the elevators, she happened to glance up to see a very nervous-looking-man waiting for the elevator, an identical package to hers in his hand.