by Daco
The Mayor kicked the bed again and pulled the blanket and sheet off Zero. “I’ve looked at your chart.”
“Hey, that’s confidential!”
“I’m a high-ranking government official. Nothing is confidential from me even if it’s supposed to be confidential. Anyway, it looks like you suffered no more than a few bruises and scrapes. Your big medical problem was your self-induced alcohol poisoning. Get out of the bed, Zero, or I’ll have you locked up. And let me remind you that there are no liquor stores in jail,” he said pointedly. “I’ve got a job for you. I need you to find Biggie Bitterman.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mayor. That Bitterman joker injured me badly.”
“What do you mean Bitterman injured you? Was Biggie Bitterman the driver of the car that hit you?”
“Yeah. I thought you knew. He’s three rooms over. I heard he broke his leg in the crash. But he ran me over, you know. So it’s his own fault.”
“Get dressed. You’re not hurt. Watch the entrance to the hospital, and when Bitterman is discharged, follow him and find out where Momo is hiding out.”
“Can I at least have breakfast before I go?”
The Mayor pulled down the brim of his fedora and then drew up the collar of his trench coat. With his face covered, he skulked down the corridor until he found Bitterman’s room. Bitterman, too, was asleep.
The Mayor used his foot to jostle the bed.
“Please, Momo. Don’t!” Bitterman said in a groggy voice. He blinked a few times and said, “Mayor Baumgartner? What are you doing here? We shouldn’t be seen together.”
“And you shouldn’t be in my city. When I gave you the rock, you said we were done. Now you’re back, creeping around corners, showing up at City Council meetings. Momo used the Electromite to attack The City of Angels and The Big Apple.”
“You got your money, and what happened after that is not your concern. But now that you’re here, I’ve got a question for you, Mayor. Where’s the rest of the Electromite? And the original casing? If you held out on me, Mayor Baumgartner, you’ll be sorry. Because as soon as I can walk, you’re going to be doing some talking.”
“You’re out of your mind, Biggie. Where’s Momo?”
Bitterman laughed out loud. “Even if I knew, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Oh, I think you know. I’ll make you tell me.” The Mayor balled up his fist and punched Bitterman’s broken leg. Bitterman squealed like a pig going to the slaughterhouse and then tried to press the button that would call for the nurse.
“I wouldn’t scream like that,” The Mayor said. “And don’t call for help. If we’re caught here together, we’ll all go down. Including Momo. Or maybe only you and Momo will go down, because I’m the beloved Mayor of Kensington City, who’s here interrogating you so I can solve a heinous crime.” He jabbed Bitterman’s leg again. “Start talking, Biggie.”
Bitterman stifled a yelp and replied, “The name is Bigelow. May I call you Bobby, or is your proper name Robert?”
The Mayor slapped Bitterman’s face and began tampering with Bitterman’s IV.
“Do what you want to me, Mayor. I’m not telling you anything. But now you have The Momaxita to deal with—whether I’m alive or not.”
The Mayor looked into Bitterman’s hard eyes and shuddered. Suddenly, he realized that Bitterman wouldn’t give Momo up no matter what The Mayor did to him. The Mayor also knew that no matter how high he rose in politics, he’d never be safe from The Momaxita. With as much bravado as he could muster, The Mayor said, “Next time you see Momo, tell him to stay out of my city. Do you understand?”
The door swung open, and a nurse walked into the room. She was a young, attractive brunette.
“What’s going on in here?” the nurse asked. “Mayor Baumgartner?”
The Mayor removed his hat and smiled one of his most seductive smiles. “Nurse, I’m just here to visit the patient. He was harmed in my city, and I wanted to reach out to him.”
“But you’re dressed like—”
“I go on these missions all the time,” The Mayor said. “In disguise, because I don’t want the media around, don’t want the public to recognize me. If anyone saw me, they’d think I’m doing this for publicity.”
“That’s right,” Bitterman said. “I truly appreciate The Mayor’s visit. He’s been great. Speeding up the healing process.”
The nurse looked at The Mayor, beaming now. He walked over and gave the young nurse a hug, and she hugged him back. She was cute, he thought. Another time, another place ...
“I have to be going,” The Mayor said. “And mum’s the word about my visit.”
The nurse gazed at him with longing eyes and nodded. “Alexa Manchester is the luckiest woman in the world,” she said.
“No,” The Mayor replied. “I’m the luckiest man.”
The Mayor hurried out of the hospital and drove his turbocharged jalopy at top speed toward his home. He dressed, got into his gold Lamborghini, which was already loaded with what he needed, and sped toward the Manchester mansion. When he arrived, it wasn’t Sigfred, but Montgomery Manchester who greeted him.
“It’s about time, Bobby,” Uncle Montgomery said. “We thought you were bailing out on us. Now where’s that niece of mine? She knows how much I hate to be late.” Uncle Montgomery called for Sigfred, who came down the front staircase.
“Please tell Ms. Manchester that we need to leave. I hope you’ve loaded her golf clubs into the car.”
“Not yet, sir,” Sigfred said.
“Well, get a move on, man.” Uncle Montgomery turned to The Mayor. While Sigfred was still in earshot, he said, “Incompetence pervades every part of our society.” He paused and, with a smirk, said, “Especially among our politicians. I don’t know one worth a damn. Don’t you agree, Bobby?”
• • •
Sigfred walked up the stairs to Alexa’s room to retrieve her clubs. He didn’t know what to make of Montgomery Manchester. In the early days of working with Mickey, Sigfred had asked about Montgomery, but Mickey—usually very willing to confide in Sigfred—had only said that he and his brother had not gotten along. Sigfred sensed that there was more to the story than that.
Before Sigfred arrived at Alexa’s room, he encountered her walking down the hall, toting her purple-and-blue houndstooth golf bag filled with one too many clubs. Her outfit matched the carrying bag, right down to her socks and shoelaces. She looked adorable.
Not that he was about to tell her that.
“Let me have your bag, Ms. Manchester.”
“I’ll carry my own bag.”
He shot her a dubious look.
“I’ve accomplished much more grueling physical tasks recently,” she said.
“I don’t doubt your ability to carry your own clubs. But so you can avoid your uncle’s displeasure, if you wouldn’t mind, I’ll take those clubs now.”
She offered him the clubs, but when he took hold of them, his fingers accidentally brushing hers, she didn’t let go. A spark ran through him. Their connection reminded him that he couldn’t free himself of this woman, nor did he want to be angry at her any longer. He took the clubs and turned to leave, but she placed her hand on his arm.
“Sigfred, we need to talk,” she said.
“Your uncle is waiting, madame.”
“Just give me a moment. The other day when I said you were only a servant, I was wrong. I didn’t mean that.”
“But I am just that.”
“No, you’re not. You’re ... You’re so much a part of my life that I think of you as family. My friend ... My best friend.” Her cheeks flushed pink, and she averted her eyes. “More than that. Sigfred, I’m sorry for what I said. I never meant to hurt you. Please forgive me. I’ve missed you.”
His own cheeks flushed hot. “There’s nothing to forgive. I always have your best interests at heart. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” Finally, he could relax in her presence again.
Uncle Montgomery
impatiently called for Alexa from downstairs.
“You do trust me, Alexa?” he whispered.
“Of course. You know that I do.”
“Then don’t tell your uncle who you really are.”
“Bobby says the same thing. But he is my uncle, after all. He seems so kind, and he’s the only family I have left. What do you know about him that I don’t?”
“Nothing yet. Instinct.”
She thought for a moment and then smiled at him wistfully. “I won’t say a word for now. Because I do trust you, Sigfred. More than anyone.”
These were the only words he needed to hear.
Alexa surrendered the bag to Sigfred and followed him down the stairs.
“It’s about time,” Uncle Montgomery said. “My father taught your father and me the virtues of promptness. I’m surprised Mickey Manchester didn’t have the wherewithal to pass that trait down to his only daughter.”
“You needn’t fuss, Uncle Monty,” Alexa said. “We won’t miss our tee time.”
“We’re Manchesters,” Uncle Montgomery said. “We have our reputation to uphold. Tardiness is intolerable.”
• • •
At the Kensington City Country Club, Sigfred unloaded the clubs while Alexa, over her uncle’s protestations, insisted on walking the course and carrying her own clubs. He kept repeating that it was “unladylike.” How, she wondered, had her well-traveled uncle Montgomery, who’d been everywhere, become such a fuddy-duddy?
“Let’s compromise, Alexa,” The Mayor said. “Share my cart. We can snuggle while I drive. Your uncle is right, for once.” The Mayor glanced sidelong and sneered at Montgomery. “Carrying your own clubs does not befit the wife of a mayor.” He winked. “Or the wife of a prime minister. What if the media should encounter us playing golf and uses it as a photo opportunity?”
“The media is barred from a private club,” she said. Annoyed at these male chauvinists, she shook her head and hoisted the bag onto her shoulder. If they only knew what she could do when she transformed, they wouldn’t be worried about a bit of perspiration she might shed while walking the course.
The air suddenly filled with Lady Googoo’s Famed perfume. The Dowdy twins walked over. They were dressed more for tennis than for golf. Alexa was sure that the revealing outfits violated club rules.
“We can’t stand around here all day,” Alexa said, annoyed with the expressions on the faces of both The Mayor and her uncle.
“Alexa, darling,” Della said. “How fortuitous that we found you here today. Do you tee off soon?” The twins stopped alongside The Mayor’s golf bag. Dani toyed with his clubs in a way that could only be described as salacious.
“We tee off right now. Let’s go. Uncle Monty?”
Uncle Montgomery wasn’t listening. He was enthralled with the twins, leering at them in their matching miniskirts and skimpy tops, not even trying to hide his fascination with their cleavage and bare legs.
“Are you girls identical everywhere?” he asked.
“Uncle Monty, please!” Alexa said. “Where’s your Manchester decorum now? And we’re late. Where’s that Manchester promptness?”
“We’re the group right behind you,” Dani said, ignoring Alexa. “Just a sisterly twosome.” She leaned over the cart and got closer to The Mayor, revealing even more cleavage.
“Why don’t you girls join us?” Uncle Montgomery said.
“That would work fine,” The Mayor said.
“We can’t play with five,” Alexa said. “It’s against course rules, and it’ll be a six-hour round.”
“Nonsense,” her uncle said. “The Mayor and I will ride in carts to speed things up. Della, you can ride with me.”
Alexa glanced at Sigfred, wishing that the two of them were alone on this beautiful course. But of course, socialites didn’t play golf with servants in Kensington City, even if the servant and socialite shared a powerful bond. What was wrong with the world?
“Alexa, will you please give up the idea of walking and ride with me?” The Mayor asked.
Alexa could feel Sigfred’s gaze fixed upon her. “I’m determined to walk the course,” she said.
“I’ll ride with you, Bobby,” Dani said, smiling sexily and virtually jumping into The Mayor’s cart.
“Fine with me,” Alexa said, pleased.
“Alexa’s right,” Della said. “We don’t want to break course etiquette. Dani and I will just ride along. We’re hackers anyway. So, you golfers will just have to be a threesome.” She giggled. “Dani and I adore threesomes.”
Bobby Baumgartner could do what he wanted, Alexa thought. Their marriage was only going to be one of convenience anyway, albeit for the greater good of humanity.
They teed off. The Mayor was a scratch golfer—he’d played in college—and after five holes, he led Alexa by two strokes, a lead that would’ve been far greater if he hadn’t focused so much on Dani. For his part, Uncle Montgomery—who with his bodybuilder’s strength could hit the ball three hundred plus yards—paid so much attention to the twins that he was hacking the ball all over the course, making Sigfred walk yards to find his ball. Alexa felt like the odd person out.
On the fifth hole, she placed a perfect wedge shot to the green.
“Nice shot,” Sigfred said. “You’re putting for birdie. I was worried that you’d fly over the green.” He winked at her.
“Aren’t you sick and tired of retrieving my uncle’s errant shots?” she asked.
“I’d much rather be caddying for you, Alexa.”
She flashed a shy smile, and then went to the green and sunk her birdie putt.
On the seventh hole, she intentionally duck-hooked her tee shot, causing her ball to land in the thick-wooded area to the left of the fairway.
“Oh, damn,” Alexa said. “Would you look at that? I was doing so well.”
“Don’t worry,” The Mayor said. “We’ll take the cart after we hit and help you find your ball.”
Uncle Montgomery hit his tee shot down the middle and preened like a peacock in front of Della. The Mayor hadn’t missed a fairway all day, but as he was about to hit, Dani bent over to tie a shoelace, and The Mayor took his eyes off his golf ball and onto Dani’s beach balls. The result was a wicked slice into the thicket on the right.
How obvious can he get? Alexa thought, but she only said, “Too bad. You must’ve picked your head up. You’ll have to find your own ball. I’m sure Dani would be happy to go looking with you in the bushes. Sigfred, I’ll need your help. And if either of you gentlemen are ready to play, don’t wait on my account. I’ll catch up with you on the next tee.”
They separated. Entering the thicketed patch of woods, Alexa led the way, swinging her club back and forth to brush away the tall grass and weeds below the canopy of trees. Sigfred also looked for her ball, but seemed rather tentative.
“What’s the matter, Sigfred?”
“I’m watching out for snakes,” he said. “So should you.”
“You can’t possibly be afraid of those wiggly things.”
“Deathly afraid, to be honest.”
She stopped near a tree where the ground was covered with thick vines. “Sigfred, come here. Is this my ball?”
He poked around the underbrush and, despite his fear of snakes, actually used his hands to separate the underbrush.
“I don’t see a ball,” he said.
“I guess I was mistaken.” She smiled flirtatiously. “The Mayor isn’t acting very engaged, is he?” She paused. “But I guess I’m not either.” She wasn’t sure what she wanted at the moment—except for Sigfred to touch her again.
“I would agree with that. A man should never make his intended feel that way. I never would.”
They stared deeply into each other’s eyes.
“Why does life have to be so complicated?” she asked.
“It doesn’t. Break it off with The Mayor and follow your heart if you’re not just playing games like the rest of them.”
Despite their
earlier reconciliation, his words angered her for some reason, though she knew deep down that he was right. She took a step forward, her face no more than inches from his. “You know I’m not playing games,” she said. “Especially since you, of all people, understand what my life has truly become.”
“If you’re going to honor what you’ve become, you’d break it off with The Mayor.” He stared at her for a moment. “Or maybe you won’t break it off with Baumgartner because you really do want him. If that’s the case, say it and let me go back to being your servant.”
He was standing so close to her that she felt his hot breath on her lips. The heat of it almost made her speechless. “What I want is ... is ...” Her heart raced as though she were fending off an attack on an entire city. “Sigfred, you must know what I want. Don’t you understand why this is so hard? Please.”
Without warning, he took her into his arms and kissed her so passionately that she dropped her seven-iron. She closed her eyes, yielding to the raw sensuality of the kiss, his lips against hers, warm and soft. When she pressed closer, his hands caressed the small of her back and then moved even lower. An uncontrollable electrical current flowed through her body and into his. Then she felt Sigfred’s own unique energy, humming between their flesh until it fused and blended them as a single current of pure electricity. For a moment she feared that she’d harm him, but then she realized that this wasn’t Electromancer’s energy—it was hers, Alexa’s, and hers alone.
When his mouth opened and he touched his tongue to hers, a burst of energy surged down to her toes. Their tongues swirled slowly at first, the rhythm building, the desire mounting. He caressed her back, the touch generating even stronger currents of friction, throbbing and tingling.
He drew her closer and held her so tightly that she could feel his arousal—hard and pulsating. She ran her hands along the contours of his sculpted back and down to his narrow hips, and then pulled his loins closer to hers. Together, they undulated like a high-voltage electrical current, charged and dangerous. He lowered his lips to the nape of her neck and brushed his fingers across her shoulders and down her arms. With a firm tug, he pulled her blouse from her skirt and slowly slid his hands underneath her clothing and onto her breasts. She arched her back and sighed. She wanted to soar with him to the heavens.
