The Sandstone Affair (An Erotic Romance Novel)

by Priscilla West

  We exit with the other occupants and quietly make our way to the parking lot.

  “My purse!” I exclaim. “I left it in there. It’s in there with Blake. I don’t have any keys.”

  Mark motions for me to keep my voice down and walks me to another vehicle, a worn down Chrysler that looks like it was just bought from one of those lots by the junkyard where they cover the car in paint and scrawl “Best Offer” on the window. He pulls a key out of his pocket, opens the passenger door and pushes me in.

  “Where did you get this?” I ask, amazed.

  “Robert Clank. He’s not just a bail bondsman, you know. He has all kinds of skills and connections. How do you think he keeps from losing money? One of his bounty hunters loaned me this. Bob also knows some great lock-pick and carjacking specialists. I’ll call and have him get someone to bring your car home this evening.

  Mark pulls out of the lot and drives down the freeway for several miles before pulling over in a grocery store lot and shutting off the engine. He calls Mr. Clank and gives a description and instructions about my car.

  He puts his phone down and looks at me so lovingly that I burst into tears.

  “Are you okay, Julia? Did he hurt you? Did he‒you know—”

  “No!” I slam my fist against the dashboard. “NO! NO! NO! But I didn’t get the folder either. It was all for nothing. I went through that for nothing and now Blake knows I set him up and the file probably got water all over it and it’s all gone. It’s all gone.”

  Mark holds me for a moment, and then begins to pull his shirt out of his pants. I can’t believe he wants to do that now.

  “It’s not all gone,” he says reassuringly opening his shirt.

  “Mark, I’m really not in the mood for—”

  He opens some buttons and pulls a folder out, the same kind of folder as the fake in my purse. At least Blake won’t know we tried to set him up.

  “You saved the fake? Oh good,” I reply half-heartedly.

  “I saved the original,” he said, flipping it open to show me all kinds of tables, charts, pictures and notes.

  “What? How?”

  “I hid under that stairwell while you went in. You weren’t very cool, by the way. I saw you looking for me and Blake could have seen it too. But he stayed in his office. I saw him dragging you to the conference room. That was something I didn’t think about ahead of time. It has more cameras, and better lighting. He was so excited to get you in there he left his office door open, so I went in and made the switch. But I could feel something. I can’t explain it, but I knew you were in trouble. I walked out and saw your shoes in the hall. So, I pulled the fire alarm by the door and went back under the stairwell.”

  “You beautiful, wonderful, man,” I say, hugging Mark and looking through the folder. It was all there. Spreadsheets, emails, even more pictures of Valerie and Mark. I didn’t care. I was so happy to see all that evidence nothing could have stopped me from cheering.

  “I’m so sorry, Julia,” he says reaching out to touch me. I react and pull away from him, the thought of his brother’s hands on me still overwhelming my senses. “I’m staying with you tonight. Tomorrow, we will see the judge.”

  “Tomorrow, my life begins again.” I sigh, hoping somehow to rid myself of the ghost of Blake’s perversion before Mark notices its presence too clearly.

  “You are amazing.” He starts the car and backs out of the parking lot.

  “I love you.” I kiss the folder and hug his arm as he drives us back to my place.

  Chapter 22

  We park the junker in my space and leave the key in the car. Mark texts Mr. Clank to have his helper leave my car in the space and take this car back to wherever it came from. We walk up the stairs hand in hand. I keep touching and rubbing Mark’s arm, reminding myself what good touch feels like.

  We sit down at the table and look at everything in Blake’s folder carefully. Spreadsheets show how he used the Lynx account number to attach funds to each order or payment I made. $300 for printer ink for the staff became $3,000 with the overage going into a private holding area, eventually transferred to Blake’s personal bank. That was just one small transaction but the sheet was filled with them.

  An envelope with smaller pictures reveals more than a few additional shots of Valerie and Mark playing hanky spanky. Some show Valerie on her knees or bent over for other men, all of whom granted some kind of exclusive interview or content for Ladies World.

  “Those were a long time ago. When she was starting,” Mark said, attempting to explain the obvious.

  I collected the pictures and put them back in the envelope. “Give these back to her,” I say softly.

  “I called Paul Fries today. He agreed to do this work for us and let me pay him later. He’s got the rejoinder paperwork ready. We have an appointment with him at ten o’clock tomorrow morning for him to put the evidence in the request and then we have a one-thirty appointment before a judge. You have to sign the rejoinder in front of an officer of the court first, so we need to get there around one.”

  “I’m surprised Paul’s helping,” I say, “He’s always been clear his is a cash and carry law-firm.”

  “Well, some people hate my brother even more than they love money.” Mark smiled. “Blake has made more than a few enemies in town.”

  We keep looking through the stacks of fudged receipts, threatening emails, and corruption when there is a sudden, loud knock on my door.

  “That’s probably Bob’s guy,” Mark says as he gets up. I stop him.

  “No. It’s not. You didn’t tell him my apartment number.” I run and look out the peephole but see nothing. We both crouch by the door waiting to hear the footsteps walk away. When we are sure the coast is clear, Mark sends me to stand behind the couch with the phone in my hand as he opens the door and looks out. Slowly he reaches outside and takes something off the door knob.

  He pauses, looking at it carefully, then brings it in. I can tell from the look on his face it’s not good.

  “You don’t need to see this.” He places it on the table by my door. It’s my purse from this evening, dripping wet.

  “I need to know. We’re in this together.” I look at the purse. At first-glance everything seems fine. Soggy, but fine. Then Mark pulls out the one dry thing inside the bag. It’s a picture of me on my knees in front of Blake, my mouth open, his hand on my head. You can tell by the pixels it’s a still he made from a video camera.

  Across the photo he wrote in marker: “You’ll pay, bitch.” As a piece of punctuation, there is a white glob of ejaculate right over my face.

  “Oh my god, Blake,” Mark says, the disgust evident in his voice. “Julia, I— ”

  He stops as he sees the tears pouring down my face. I pull away from him, wondering if he feels that disgust from what Blake did on the picture or what I almost did with Blake. Mark leans over and takes my hand.

  “Come on.” He pulls me toward my bedroom. We cross in front of the bed and head straight for the bathroom. He reaches in and turns the shower on; the room fills with the warm mist of the steam. “There is nothing of him on you. There is nothing of him about you. He is scum and you are beautiful.”

  I feel him unbuttoning my blouse and I reach to help him. Undressing myself, I imagine my time in Blake’s office falling away from me like scales. I step in the hot shower and let the shame, the guilt and everything wash off me. As I release my feelings, wracking sobs pulling from body, I see his arm enter the shower, and the rest of Mark soon appears.

  He stands behind me, holding me, kissing my neck. I stand still and luxuriate in his healing touch. He takes the soap from my hands, and begins to run it across my arms, back, breasts and body–washing me then kissing each area he has washed before. We stay in the shower, hugging and licking and loving each other until the water begins to cool.

  Stepping out, he wraps me in a robe, dries me off, and puts his arms around me. We end up in my bed, my head on his chest, as he holds and kisses me
. He doesn’t seem to expect anything. He just wants to love me. I feel myself falling asleep, the warmth and safety of his love healing my deepest wounds.

  Chapter 23

  The sun streams bright into the window, promising me a new day. A day filled with hope, justice, and most of all–love. Today’s the day the wrong is made right. Today is when Lynx begins again. I will be at court at one o’clock and free from this terror by two.

  Mark is setting the table for breakfast, has coffee brewing and smiles when I walk out, disheveled in a pair of sweats and a T-shirt all sleepy-eyed.

  “Hello, beautiful you.” His smile immediately brightens my morning.

  “Hello, Prince Charming. Can you tell me where reality is? I seem to have left it some time ago.”

  “No evil wizards here.” He looks around the kitchen. I contemplate kissing him, even with my morning breath when a knock at the door shatters the moment.

  “Oh god,” I say wondering what special package Blake has left us this time. Mark moves as if to answer but I reach it first.

  I look out the peephole and see a face this time. Two faces actually, each wearing a frighteningly familiar hat.

  “Yes, Officer,” I say, opening the door just wide enough to see their badges.

  “Are you Julia Sharp?” The front one asks, the one behind him taking something from his back pocket. Mark walks toward the door.

  “Yes,” I answer. Did they catch Mr. Clank’s friend stealing my car?

  “Turn around and put your hands behind your back.”

  “What?!”

  The second officer began pulling out his zip tie.

  “Julia Sharp, you are under arrest.”

  Chapter 24

  This can’t be happening. Today is not supposed to be like this. I am supposed to drive with Mark down to the courthouse to present evidence of Blake’s wrongdoing and sign the rejoinder. Today is supposed to be the day I get Lynx back. Instead, these two cops are here at my door, about to crush my hopes.

  “Wait. What?” My mind reels as I feel the officer’s rough hands holding my wrists together and slipping the cutting hard plastic around them again. “I can’t be! I haven’t—”

  “You have the right to remain silent,” the second office reads off a card. “Anything you say can and will be used against you—”

  “Mark!” I scream as they begin to guide me into the hallway.

  “Officer, I’m Mark Stone,” Mark says rushing to the door. He’s trying to play it calm but the look of shock and fear is in his eyes. “Can I ask what’s going on?”

  “She’s being arrested, that’s what’s going on,” the first officer says brusquely as he blocks the door with an elbow, a polite but clear gesture that says wherever we’re going, Mark is not coming with us.

  “If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided to you.” The second officer continues droning.

  “I can see that part, Officer,” Mark says clearly but with severe tone I’ve never heard from him before. “I am Miss Sharp’s legal contractor and I have the right to know why she is being arrested.”

  “Yes!” I gasp as he turns me toward the hall. I see the neighbor’s door crack open but I am far past humiliation at this point. “Tell him!”

  Mark’s natural authority wins the day and the policemen stop, momentarily, my progression to the elevator. The officer puts away his worn little Miranda card and opens a notebook. Both men seem to be standing straighter when addressing Mark. Having been over his lap for a stinging rebuke, I can attest it’s the wise thing to do.

  “Miss Julia Sharp is being arrested for New York Penal Code Violation 251.15, Criminal Contempt in the First Degree.”

  “But I’m not even going to court until this afternoon!” I blurt my mind solely on saving Lynx. “It’s not possible.”

  Mark stands silently trying to mentally work his way through the information. One of the many things I realize I love about him is the way he stays calm and strong, never wavering, always in control. I’m not sure if it is a learned discipline or an inborn talent but it’s amazing. It can’t be inborn though, because Blake certainly doesn’t… Oh my god…

  “Blake!” Mark and I exclaim at the same time having both mentally arrived at the answer.

  “Contempt of court is cited due to the violation of an order of protection issued to Mr. Blake Stone and the property known as Sandstone Ventures,” the officer continues reading.

  Dammit! That bullshit restraining order he filed against me after my first visit to his office finally comes back to bite me in the ass. Honestly, the pig had it coming to him, and despite the predicament I’m in now, I don’t regret slapping him across his greasy face.

  “But that’s not what happened!” I start, however, I feel the officer pushing me down the hall away from Mark in the doorway. Having dutifully satisfied Mark’s “right to know,” the second officer accompanies the first in dragging me to the elevator.

  “Julia, I’ll call Paul Fries right now,” Mark yells down the hall, probably realizing that “legal contractor” isn’t really a position recognized by anyone and deciding to withdraw before the officers figure out they’ve been conned.

  “Forget me,” I shout quickly twisting around to call over my shoulder as the elevator doors open. “Save Lynx!”

  If they’re taking me downtown for booking, who knows how long it’ll take to get processed through the system? Maybe at least Mark can go to the courthouse and present our case that Blake’s seizure of Lynx is illegal.

  Once the bell chimes, I am forcibly pushed forward, facing the back of the elevator. One officer faces me, the other faces forward to stop anyone from coming in as we make our way down to the waiting squad car.

  Approaching the car, I think about how many times as a reporter I’ve seen people loaded into the back of these boxy caged vehicles, and how different it feels when it’s your head being pushed down as you’re put into the back of the car.

  Turning to the one holding my arms, I try to see his watch but can’t make the numbers out.

  “Can you tell me what time it is, please?” I ask. I have to sign those forms at one o’clock. I hope that’s enough time for me to call Paul’s office and get out of holding.

  “Why? Got a date?” he snickers as his hand goes instinctively to my shoulder to lower me into the back. “Watch your head, ma’am.”

  “I didn’t violate any orders,” I say as soon as they get in and close their doors. “He invited me. He said he wanted to meet with me. So we could, well, so we could talk. You don’t understand, he asked me to come to Sandstone. I’m innocent.”

  “That’s not our job to determine, ma’am.” the driver says as he pulls away from the curb. “It’s just our job to take you in.”

  “Look, this is a mistake. I mean, I’m sure Blake reported I was there last night, because I was there. But I was only there to get evidence that he stole my company. He asked me to meet him because he thought he could, well, um, he wanted to take advantage of me, of my situation. Anyway, I swear to you I did not go there on my own and I don’t have contempt for any court.”

  “Ma’am,” the policeman in the passenger seat says with his jaw locked and a stiff tone. “I am not a judge and he is not a jury. Save it for court, ‘cause we don’t care.”

  I settle as much as I can against the back seat, feeling the bitter tears of anger and frustration fall down my cheeks. How does Blake do it? Every time it seems like I’m going to get my life back, or that we are going to finally outsmart him, he just pulls another ace out of his pocket. The officer must have realized he was ruder than necessary because he turns to me and speaks almost gently.

  “In case you were still wondering, ma’am, the time is eleven a.m.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, wiping my tears on my shoulder. I start doing the math in my head. If Mark and Paul Fries can get the paperwork together, and I can get someone from Paul’s office to come bail me out quickly, I can still make the courthouse by one
to sign everything. I just need to get that phone call as soon as I can, and hope when Mark calls Paul he will have them set up and ready to answer my phone. My body starts swaying with excitement and false hope.

  “Well, that perked you up,” the officer says with a smile and turns back around.

  “I have a very important appointment this afternoon,” I try to explain. “If I can get my phone call from holding pretty quickly, I can make bail in time to get there.”