by Josie Brown
He pats the spot gently. “Truly stingy of you, my dear. Then again, beggars can’t be choosers, now can they?”
“You seem to have your fair share of admirers here, Dominic—my daughter included.” I nod toward Trisha, who stands at his feet, fixated in adoration.
She’s not the only one. Already Penelope, Hayley and Tiffy are eyeing him as if he’s a braised lamb chop.
Dominic may be speaking to me, but he’s winking at them. “Ah yes, the bountiful Mrs. Bing! Met her in Fantasy Island’s dungeon, in fact.”
“Don’t tell me Penelope was one of the prisoners we released!”
His laughter is boisterous, to say the least. Then again, the king of the pride must have the loudest roar. “I meant the BSDM playroom, in Eden Key.” He smiles. “She wields quite a whip! Should she ever be in want of a profession, I know of several private clubs that would welcome her expertise. I’m surprised Peter can sit upright at all.”
The thought of their bedroom antics leaves me wincing.
“Speaking of Peter,” Dominic continues, “I was quite taken with his knowledge of your local real estate. Thanks to his guidance, I’ll soon be closing on the most charming little bungalow, right here in Hilldale.”
I drop a chopped liver canapé on the grass. With the speed of a Wimbledon ball-boy, a butler swoops down and runs off with it.
As shocking as that is, Dominic’s news takes the cake. “You’re moving here? But I thought you loved London!”
“The charm of one doesn’t preclude the other. Besides, I consider it my duty.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“Ryan wants to put this Quorum bother to rest, once and for all. This isn’t to say you and Jack haven’t done a brilliant job at nudging the sleeping beast.”
“Is that what Ryan said, that we’ve only ‘nudged’ it? Seems to me that it’s been all quiet on the Quorum front, thanks to our efforts!”
“No need to get your knickers in a twist, old girl. Acme’s coverage of the presidential candidate next week is a perfect example. The Quorum will do anything to control the Oval Office. Taking out a frontrunner is very much its cuppa, believe you me. Ryan merely suggested that more manpower will be needed, if we’re to deliver an all-around thumping.”
I’ll say someone needs an all-around thumping. Unfortunately I left my baseball bat at home.
"I dare say, a second home allows for a welcomed change of pace.” His eyes sweep over me. “A much needed respite from the role of international man of mystery.”
His slow wink could spark a flame on a matchstick.
Now I feel like the lamb chop.
Trisha tugs at the sash of my sundress. “Mommy, on the plane Mr. Fleming told me I should never worry about you. He thinks you’re one of the smartest ladies he’s ever met.”
“How very sweet.” I stare at Dominic. Is he blushing?
“In fact, Mr. Fleming said if anything should happen to him, I should give this to you, because you know how he feels about you.”
Trisha pulls a baby blue Tiffany box from her pocket.
Oh. My. God.
I open it and find a ring so big that it might have once belonged to the Queen of England. Oh hell, I hope Dominic didn’t lift this from the royal collection.
Looking back, as much as I tried to deny it, certainly the signs were all there. His flirtatiousness. His soulful looks. His aggressive pursuit of me. And when we were trapped by the crocodile he tried to confess…something—
Was it his love for me?
Wait…there’s a Tiffany store on Fantasy Island? Boy, that place really does have everything!
I’m just about to tell Dominic how flattered I am when I notice that Babette has sidled over to us. Apparently she’s heard the whole conversation. She can’t take her eyes off the ring. “But—but Donna Stone is already married! Why in the hell would you want a frumpy, flatchested mouse like her, when you could have had these”—she juts her inflated breasts in his direction—“and all my money to boot?”
Dominic grabs my fist before it ruins Babette’s perfect nose job. “Stop me if I’m wrong, Babette, but didn’t you just tie the knot with Lee?” I ask.
“What?...Okay, true, but” She looks up at him, pleadingly—“if Dominic had asked me first, I would have said yes. It’s not as if I need Lee’s money or anything. And he works all the damn time.” Her glare moves from Dominic to me. “Ha! I wonder what your husband will think when he finds out!”
“Find out what?” At the sound of Jack’s voice, we all turn at the same time.
“Donna is considering leaving you for this pompous stud,” Babette declares as she slaps Dominic’s arm. Her sympathetic gaze at Jack comes off like a cat eyeing a mouse.
“That’s not true! In the first place, I’m already married. In the second, I’d never consider anything so ludicrous.” I cross my arms under my chest. I guess Jack is smiling because he knows I’m doing my best not to slap her silly.
“No doubt I’d be heartbroken. I guess I’d have to find some way to console myself,” Jack says as he waves broadly at his fan club—Penelope, Tiffy and Hayley—who are staring our way.
His attention is too much for Penelope. She passes out.
Oddly, her pals do nothing to break her fall to the ground. So much for friendship.
Being scorned twice at her own reception is more than Babette can bear. She storms off angrily.
Dominic pats Jack on the back. “You don’t have to worry, old chap. Donna is all yours—and always was.”
“I never doubted if for a moment,” says Jack.
Dominic and I burst out laughing at the same time. We’ve been in sync on so much that I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re both thinking the same thing:
As if.
“I needed to make it clear to Babette, once and for all, that our fun and games are over,” Dominic explains. “Your little Trisha is quite an actress. The way she delivered her lines, I’ve no doubt you’ve got another Cate Blanchett in the making.”
I look down at the Tiffany box. “Do I get to keep the ring?”
“Feel free, my dear. The box is real, but the ring is a diamond simulant. The best Amora Moissanite that money can buy.”
I snicker. “With all of Babette’s baubles, you’d think she’d know a real one from a fake by now.”
“Speaking of the real thing, Ryan wanted you to know that your lead on the missing plague bacteria and antidote samples was spot on. Someone placed it in a warehouse dead file by mistake. Turns out it was under the NSA’s nose the whole time.”
Jack and I exchange glances. Mandrake made sure it never left the building. Had he lived, his position and his reputation would have stayed intact.
If a true philanthropic organization had offered him a chance to distribute the antidote for free, would he have taken it? I guess we’ll never know, but I’d like to think this would have been the case.
“Donna old girl, word on the street is that your cooking is excellent, but otherwise you're all corners, as they say on my side of the pond. I can only imagine that your monopoly on the most eligible man at this soirée has only put you deeper in Dutch with your neighbors.” Dominic nods toward Hilldale’s horniest momtourage.
“You’re right, Dominic. Thank you for so thoughtfully pointing this out. You have my blessing to mingle to your heart’s content. I’ll make sure to put a map to the Free Clinic in your Welcome Wagon basket.”
Dominic doesn’t waste any time. Five strides puts him in their midst.
His choice has me shaking my head. “If Dominic is serious about bed-hopping through Hilldale, I wonder how long it will take him to realize he’s not the predator but the prey?”
“Everyone needs a hobby, right?” Jack’s smile fades when he sees Lee on the terrace. Lee waves at us, but his attempt at a smile is tepid at best.
“I’d like to figure out his angle,” Jack mutters.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Something just
isn’t quite right. Don’t you find it odd that Babette’s boyfriend ends up taking her to Fantasy Island, of all places?”
“His firm held the note on the place—or still does, I guess, now that it’s gone into default. Considering that he’s such a workaholic, I’m not at all surprised he chose a getaway that would allow him to combine business with pleasure.”
“You give him too much credit. He knew the Hunt Club’s dirty little secret. The fact that he bid against ‘Carl’ for you is proof of that.”
“I’m just happy that the best man won.” I tuck a tuft of his hair behind his ear. Can he feel the love in my touch? His smile shows me so.
“I’m also happy he chose not to outbid me. Although something tells me he could have done so, easily.” Jack gazes down at me. “I have to admit I’m a bit curious what he would have done with you.”
I’ve seen how Lee looks at me. And I saw his uncontrollable rage toward the boy who almost raped Mary.
I suddenly remember Boarke’s boast—that one of my bidders arranged for the boy to be put in the stockyard. Since it wasn’t Jack, it had to be Lee.
I don’t want to go there.
I want to stay here—at Jack’s side. For as long as we both shall live.
“By the way, I heard they found Boarke’s body deep in the jungle.” Jack shrugs. “The parts not eaten by a crocodile were riddled with pygmy darts.”
“A sad but appropriate ending.” I shudder. “Maybe they’ll use his ‘resignation’ as an excuse to go in a different direction with the resorts. You know, less swinger slashers and human safaris—more sun, sand and surf.”
Jack laughs. “Mrs. Stone, where is your sense of adventure?”
“I left it in the croc nest on Fantasy Island. Admit it, Jack Craig—there is something to be said for sitting on a beach and staring off at the ocean, without a care in the world.”
His arms feel warm and strong as they circle my waist. “I’m glad you think so. I’ve booked a room, just for the two of us, at Post Ranch Inn, outside of Big Sur. We can do some staring of our own.”
My squeal has him cupping his ears, but he doesn’t fight off my barrage of kisses.
When I stop suddenly and frown, he holds up a hand. “I know what you’re thinking. I’ve had all the kids and Aunt Phyllis sign oaths to be on their best behavior while we’re gone.”
“Not in blood, I hope.”
“Jeff suggested that, but I vetoed the idea. However, I caught Aunt Phyllis talking Pig Latin to the kids. I think she said, ‘what happens in Hilldale stays in Hilldale.’”
Seeing my face fall to the ground, he adds, “Just kidding!”
He’d better be.
If I’m going to keep my family in line, I’ll need a croc of my own. Next stop: the pet store.
Trisha runs over and grabs our hands. “They’re going to cut the cake!”
We let her swing between us. Each step between us and the buffet table is her chance to chant out one of the new words she learned while texting on Janie’s iPhone.
“Q…U…O…R—”
Jack and I stop cold. We exchange looks.
By the time he’s kneeling in front of Trisha, he has a smile on his face. “That’s a big new word for you, isn’t it Trisha?”
Her eyes light up, proudly. “Yes! Really, it’s spelled Q-U-O-R-U-M. Mrs. Breck—I mean Mrs. Chiffray taught it to me.”
Jack and I scan the crowd for Babette.
She has just cut a piece of the cake. Lee already has a chunk of it in his hand. Their fingers find each other’s mouths, and the bites are generous.
They should be smiling and staring into each other’s eyes, but they aren’t.
They are looking at us.
The applause and laughter is boisterous.
Jack and I aren’t clapping.
All work and no play can make Donna one mean lady.
The Chiffrays are about to find that out, the hard way.
Next Up!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I owe a lot to the following people, whose love and support gives me the courage to write, every day:
Karin Tabke, who first fell in love with this book, and pushed me (quite adamantly; what are friends for?) to make it a priority; Andy Brown, who is a go-to guru for anything technical and metaphysical. Andy, thanks making the virtual a reality; Rita Abrams, Kendra Williams, Pam Welsh, Elisa Turner, Janell Parque, Susan DiMuzio, Dianne Wallace, Jeanette Conkling, Kimberly Turner and Tom Johnson, who have sharper eyes than mine; Austin Brown and Anna Brown, who are my emotional touchstones, in so many ways; Eddie Concha, Andree Belle, Darien and Don Coleman, Linda May and Ben Brown, and Mario Martinez and Patricia Steadman, who are always there to encourage, nurture and feed me.
And always last but never least, Martin Brown: you complete me.
Dear readers: If you liked the story and Donna, I’d be honored to get a review from you! We authors live by them, and they are always appreciated.
Thank you,
—Josie Brown
HOW TO REACH JOSIE
www.JosieBrown.com
www.AuthorProvocateur.com
www.HousewifeAssassinsHandbook.com
www.twitter.com/JosieBrownCA
www.facebook.com/JosieBrownAuthor
NOVELS IN THE
HOUSEWIFE ASSASSIN SERIES
The Housewife Assassin’s Handbook
(Book 1)
Every desperate housewife wants an alias. Donna Stone has one … and it happens to be government-sanctioned. But Donna earned it the hard way. Her husband was killed the day she delivered their third child. To avenge her husband's murder, Donna leads a secret life: as an assassin. But espionage makes for strange bedfellows, and brings new meaning to that old adage, "Honey, I'm home..."
The Housewife Assassin’s
Guide to Gracious Killing
(Book 2)
A nuclear arms summit, hosted by a politically connected billionaire industrialist, provides the perfect opportunity for a rogue operative to assassinate the newly elected Russian president, on American soil. Donna Stone’s mission: seek and exterminate the shooter before all hell – and World War III – breaks out. Also on Donna’s to-do list: file for divorce. Throw in a couple of killer play dates and a few naughty neighbors, and you’ve got a whole lot of fun.
The Housewife Assassin’s
Killer Christmas Tips
(Book 3)
’Tis the season for murder, mayhem and mistletoe! There will be no peace on Earth if Donna and Jack don’t find a shipping container filled with heat-seeking missiles. Forget Santa! Terror is coming to town…
The Housewife Assassin’s
Relationship Survival Guide
(Book 4)
In the fourth full-length novel #4 of Josie Brown's Housewife Assassin series, contract assassin Donna Stone's idea of a perfect relationship? A man she can trust in any situation. Yes, breaking up is hard to do. Then again, so is breaking out of a Mexican prison, and stopping a massacre by an international terrorist cell. So, how do you mend a broken heart? Donna finds out -- the hard way. And FYI: falling in love with a married man isn't heart smart. Then again, neither is dating a terrorist. But when an old love gets in the way of Donna's chance for true love, she doesn't cry. She gets even.
The Housewife Assassin’s
Vacation to Die For
(Book 5)
A nude sunbathing serial killer, a Lord of the Flies 'tween takeover, poison-dart throwing pygmies...
Talk about a fantasy (nightmare?) island!
An NSA scientist has disappeared with a deadly plague virus. Donna and Jack must find him before it is unleashed on Fantasy Island, home of three very different resorts:
Like Kamp KidStuff, where families frolic among dolphins, cartoon characters--and warring gangs of' tweens who believe in the law of the jungle, including human sacrifices;
And Eden Key, a nude singles sanctuary where tiki-hut treehouses provide the perfect setting for rum-fueled romance
s and casual hook-ups—not to mention the occasional swinger slashing…
Finally, there's the Hunt Club, which allows its members to track a very unique, soon-to-be extinct prey.
And you call this a vacation?
The Housewife Assassin's
Recipes for Disaster
(Book 6)
Donna’s executive mission is crystal clear: stop the assassinations of both US political parties’ presidential candidates.
When she discovers she has a long-term vendetta with one of the targets, can she put her animosity aside long enough to save the candidate’s life—and her relationship with Jack?
The Housewife Assassin's
Hollywood Scream Play
(Book 7)
With foes in high places, what's a girl to do to put food on the table—let alone stay alive? If you're housewife assassin Donna Stone, you accept a Hollywood producer's offer to turn your life into a film.
Lights, cameras and non-stop action await Donna and Jack as they use the movie's exotic location shoots to track down crucial intel needed to take down the Quorum. There will be plenty of close-ups and too many close calls. But nothing—including a lascivious leading lady, deadly stunt doubles, or an encrypted script—will stand in their way.
The Housewife Assassin's
Deadly Dossier
(The Series Prequel)
Finally—Donna Stone, as you've never seen her before: through the eyes of those who affected her life the most.
