Forever Young: Blessing or Curse (Always Young Trilogy)

by Morgan Mandel

  “I’m not much of a drinker and planned to stop at one, but even that must have gone to my head. All I know is later I had what I’d describe as a particularly erotic dream. I won’t gross you out with the details. Let’s just say, they were exceedingly hot. I did stuff I’d never imagined, even with Larry. Not only that, I’ve been getting these weird flashbacks. I thought it was my imagination or some kind of strange side effect from the pill.

  “Apparently, it wasn’t a dream. It really happened. I feel terrible because I’d never have done any of that sober, especially with Larry still in my heart. It’s so strange I could have gotten so drunk, because I swear I only had one drink.

  “If it were any other guy, I’d think he’d slipped me a Mickey, but Roman wouldn’t have to do that. He could get almost any woman with a flick of his finger. Anyway, it happened and I’m struggling to deal with it.”

  Kelly frowned in thought. “Maybe that young pill, coupled with the fact you’re not much of a drinker, threw off your system. Also, understandably you’ve been lonely without your husband and our boss is not exactly a cur. I can see how it might have happened.”

  Dorrie bit her lip. “There’s another problem. I have no idea how the pills will affect the baby. A normal child exposed to the pills would die in three months, if not earlier, and I can’t bear the thought of that happening to my baby.

  “I’ve wanted a child for so long, but this is a strange time to have one. I’m so mixed up. I don’t know if it would be best to stay on the pill or go off of it. If I go off, I’ll revert to my actual age, and could die during childbirth.

  “There’s no way I can avoid facing Roman and telling him the news. I’m so embarrassed and scared I could crawl into a hole and cover it up.”

  Kelly grasped Dorrie’s hand. “We haven’t known each other long, but I still consider you a good friend. Whatever you need, I’ll be here for you.”

  Tears sprang to Dorrie’s eyes. “Thanks, Kelly. You don’t know how much I appreciate your support.”

  “That’s what friends are for. Look on the bright side, Dorrie. A child is a wonderful blessing.”

  Dorrie nodded. “I did pray for one a long time, but gave up when it didn’t seem possible. I just wish it were Larry’s instead of Roman’s.”

  “It’ll work out, you’ll see. If you’d like, I’ll even babysit the little angel.”

  The nickname, “angel,” struck a bad chord. What would the Angel Man say when he learned of his child? What about her job?

  There were too many unanswered questions. What had seemed a bright dream had darkened into a nightmare.

  Dorrie passed Sunday in a fog, wondering if the pill could damage her baby or whether stopping it would make matters worse. The situation left her frightened and sleepless. Hopefully, Roman could provide enough answers to set her mind at ease. Had he considered the complications of pregnancy when he’d invented the pill?

  By Monday, she was in no condition to work. She could stay home, but lying around and torturing herself would do no good. Best to keep busy.

  Like a brave trooper, Dorrie drove in, anchored herself in front of the computer and flicked on the monitor. A glance at the call director showed Roman’s private line was lit.

  As soon as the light went out, she’d march into his office and tell him off, saying something like, “You know, that night in Hollywood we never talked about, well, you see, it’s not exactly over. I’ve got a little souvenir growing inside of me.”

  That sounded lame. She had to come up with something better. The words must be said. She had to know if the man she’d considered an angel was really the devil in disguise.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  From the embarrassed, questioning looks Dorrie had cast in his direction since the Hollywood trip, Roman surmised his assistant remembered more of their night together than she should have.

  The high tech equivalent of the Mickey he’d slipped her should have erased her memory, but he suspected the youth pill had negated some of the other drug’s effects.

  Since he’d not been the one who’d taken the Mickey, every detail of that night remained vivid in his mind.

  Though he’d seen her in scanty bikinis, the Dorrie without clothes had been even more delicious, her skin soft and pliant, her hair and womanly scent fragrant. The sex had been hot, sweet and urgent.

  He’d been wrong to take advantage of her, but he was no angel, despite how well he played the role. How ironic the goal of his deception had not borne fruit, yet the act had. Unfortunately, the iPhone mystery still remained to be solved.

  Because of his intimate knowledge of her body, when the signs had appeared, he’d recognized them and opted for more staid commercials to hide her condition. The situation presented too many hazards for his liking. Considering the unknown factor of the pill, pregnancy could be dangerous for her and the baby.

  The shocked, blank expression on Dorrie’s face as she stood at his office door this Monday morning told him the showdown had arrived. With lips tightened, she stared unblinkingly at him. “Roman, I need to talk to you.”

  He had a new role to play and it better be good. “Sure, Dorrie, come on in,” he said pleasantly, from behind his desk.

  She didn’t bother with a chair, but started right in. “Roman, I’m pregnant. I believe it’s your baby.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think that?”

  The blood rushed to her face. He hated to embarrass her.

  “You’re the only one since Larry. Also, memories are coming back to me from that night in Hollywood. At first, I thought it was my imagination and nothing happened, but now I’ve got the evidence.”

  Roman sighed. No use denying what a blood test could affirm. “I was afraid of that. As I recall, the campaign got to me that day, what with all the pressure building up to get the word out and convince everyone about the pill’s benefits. Before you showed up at the bar, I was already half bombed.

  “I heartily apologize if I offended you in any way. From your actions, I surmised you were willing. Otherwise, I’d have stopped.”

  Her eyes reddened. She bit her lip as she assimilated his words. “I hadn’t eaten beforehand, but never expected one drink to go to my head. I do know my limits.”

  “Hey, like I said, I was drunk, but my recollection tells me you matched me one for one.”

  Her eyebrows puckered. “I did?”

  He nodded. “The pill must have made you more susceptible to alcohol, and getting drunk does have a way of loosening inhibitions. Look, that’s neither here nor there. I’ll pay for the abortion.”

  “No, I’d never do that.”

  Roman frowned. Getting rid of the kid would have been neat and easy. Her refusal to do so presented a problem. Who knows what the pill could do to her system, or the kid’s.

  If by some miracle the child lived to term, it could be mentally or physically impaired. That would not help sales of Forever Young.

  “I’ve already told you of the danger to normal, already born children who take Forever Young. I’ve never tested the pill on a fetus who’d been exposed to it since conception. There’s no guarantee of the outcome. If the child lives, it could be a monster.”

  Her eyes widened. “Should I stop taking the pill? Would that help?”

  “Not a good idea, with the fetus already accustomed to a daily dosage. Also, stopping could be dangerous to your health. Abortion would still be the smart solution.”

  She shook her head. “No, I can’t do that. This baby didn’t ask to be conceived and doesn’t deserve to die because of my mistake. I’ll keep taking the pill and hope for the best. However the child turns out, I’ll love it and care for it.”

  “It’s not the smartest thing to do, but if that’s what you want, I’ll help with the expenses. I’ll keep you on at the office as long as I can, but understand, once your pregnancy becomes obvious, I can’t use you in a public capacity. A malformed or dead baby would ruin our image.”

  He si
ghed. “I have no choice but to look for another model.”

  “I understand.”

  That’s what she said, but her fists were clenched. Women could be so sentimental. She’d had it all, yet didn’t hesitate to throw it away for the sake of an unknown entity. A classic example of why emotions should be avoided.

  “All right, it’s settled. Let’s get back to work.”

  She nodded and, head held high, left his office.

  After Dorrie had gone, he stared out the window at the suddenly cloudy sky, which mirrored his thoughts.

  What he’d suspected had become reality, and he was to blame. No ordinary child grew inside of her. That fact alone put her in more danger than she realized. He’d heard of cases where fetuses were cut from a woman’s womb for far less reason than that of experimenting with the aging process.

  He’d not resort to such measures, but someone he knew might. Damn, he hadn’t admitted it to her for obvious reasons, but the blame lay squarely on his shoulders, no, actually somewhere further down, to be more accurate.

  He’d known exactly what he was getting into, had planned everything beforehand, and yet had botched it. What he hadn’t counted on was falling prey to his own emotions. If he’d thought with his brains instead of his dick, he’d have used protection, and the crisis would have been averted. No telling what the outcome would be.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Dorrie blinked back tears as she sat at her desk. She hadn’t expected or even wanted Roman’s profession of undying love. Still, it would have been nice if he’d shown some enthusiasm for his own child instead of suggesting an abortion. Obviously, her baby would not see much of its father. She’d have to go it alone.

  Dorrie squared her shoulders. Through some quirk of fate, God had brought a special person into her life at a time when she needed someone dear. No matter how it had happened, she’d make sure this special someone would be cherished.

  From Roman’s description, it sounded like they’d both been bombed out of their minds that night in Hollywood. She’d been lonely and it had seemed ages since she’d been intimate with a man. That, combined with alcohol and the miracle pill, had catapulted her into an unknown territory where reality and fiction blurred.

  She remembered his touch and taste too well. Strange, how she’d loved Larry for so many years, yet the sensations of another man overwhelmed her. It wasn’t right and it wasn’t what she wanted.

  She preferred to remember every moment spent in her marriage, not those from an X-rated, alcohol-induced, one night stand. There were intimate things about her sexy boss she had way too much knowledge of. And vice versa. What a sacrilege to conceive a child in such a way.

  Dorrie grimaced, knowing it would be difficult to face Roman at work each day. She had no choice, but to brave it out as long as she could, not for her sake, but the baby’s. Though he’d offered to help her financially, she’d not leave anything to chance. The innocent new life growing inside of her must not suffer because of her mistake.

  Assigning blame would not solve anything, so for now she’d try and get her mind off the matter. She’d type dictation and answer the phone as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

  She set to work, doing her best, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t concentrate. Her eyes kept filming over at thought of how much she and Larry had wanted a baby. He’d loved kids and would have made a wonderful father. Biting her lip, she backspaced over another typo.

  “Are you all right?” Roman asked, stopping by her desk.

  At the sympathy in his voice, she almost burst into tears. Head bent, she nodded.

  “It doesn’t look it. Take the rest of day off and sort things out. Maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.”

  He may as well have said take two aspirin. She fought back an hysterical giggle, then decided she may as well follow his advice. She couldn’t think straight anyway. It would be heaven to stretch out and sleep the nightmare away, at least for a few hours.

  By rote, she drove home and pulled into the garage. At the top of the stairs, she unlocked the connecting door, stepped into the hallway, and gasped.

  ***

  Had she walked into the wrong house? This couldn’t be hers. How else to explain the mess, with chairs overturned, couch pillows gouged, and masses of items scattered across the carpet? With one hand over her mouth and the other on her abdomen, she stepped through the family room into the kitchen. More destruction awaited her. Cabinet doors and drawers were flung open, their contents spilling out. Pots, pans and utensils littered the floor and countertops.

  In seconds, shock and surprise turned to unease. Someone had invaded her space. What if that person were still around? As if to confirm her fears, the stairs creaked.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Half expecting a fiend to reach out and grab her, Dorrie raced across the hall, purse in hand. As she opened the door to the attached garage, the thud of following footsteps set her heart racing. She pushed the keyless remote and dashed to the Hyundai. She jumped inside, started to close the door, but stubby fingers from a short squat creature blocked her efforts.

  With all her might she pushed the door inward. The monster jerked its hand away. Her fingers shook as she clicked shut the doors and windows and reached for the remote. It took forever for the garage door to open. She made it out, but so did the invader.

  As her valiant Hyundai flew down the street, in the background she heard the slam of a car door and the squeal of tires. She sped as fast as she dared, yet a dark Taurus caught up with her and closed in. She blew the horn and barreled through the intersection, then onto the next.

  Her normal, cautious driving turned to bold as Dorrie fought for hers and the baby’s lives. If only an officer would pull her over and solve the dilemma. Unfortunately, none were around. If the mountain wouldn’t come to Mohammed…

  A jeep of raucous teenagers cut in front of her, forcing her to jam the brake pedal. The Taurus almost plowed into her rear. She swerved to the left and darted forward, overpowering and passing the jeep, and getting a raised middle finger for her efforts. Niceties didn’t count in a fight for survival.

  The Taurus cut back in front of the jeep and loomed menacingly behind her. More traffic merged, forcing the Taurus back.

  Her target loomed three blocks ahead. Could she get there in time?

  The Taurus drew closer. She wove in and out of the surrounding cars, praying she’d not hit anyone. Luck was on her side as she finally pulled up in front of her destination: an aged brownstone. The Taurus slowed down next to her, enough for her to glimpse the driver’s features. Oh, my, God, that had to be a mask. No one looked that hideous. The Taurus’ owner frowned, gunned the motor and swerved away.

  Dorrie jumped from the Hyundai and darted to the entrance.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Inside the building, Dorrie dashed up to the glass partition, where a uniformed woman sat behind a desk. “Someone just trashed my home and followed me when I got in my car,” Dorrie gasped out.

  The officer nodded. “You’re safe here. Now, take a deep breath and slow down. First, did he hurt you?”

  “No, thank God.”

  “Okay, tell me what happened.”

  “As soon as I walked in my house, I could tell something was wrong. The place looked a wreck. I could hardly take it in when I heard footfalls on the stairs. That scared me so much, I ran out and jumped into my car. Good thing, too. The burglar almost grabbed me before I closed the door.”

  “Do you know who it was?”

  “No one I’ve ever met, as far as I could tell, but I don’t know for sure. The person had to be wearing a mask, the face looked so hideous. It might have been a man. The features were terribly distorted with the nose almost gone, mouth twisted. The whole face seemed unreal.”

  The officer gave Dorrie a quick glance, as if to confirm she wasn’t inebriated or on drugs. “What else do you remember?”

  “Whoever it was had a short, squat bui
ld. I couldn’t tell more. The person raced away as soon as I pulled up here.”

  “Did you get a plate number?”

  “No, I couldn’t. We were going too fast.”

  “Have a seat, Miss. Sergeant Dunlop will be right with you.”

  In about five minutes, Sergeant Dunlop, who seemed more like Dorrie’s actual age, led her to a small office. “Miss, before we go further, let’s get this straight. I’ve seen your commercials. This isn’t a publicity stunt, is it?”

  “Not on your life. I could never make this one up. Take a look at my house. You won’t believe it.”

  After fixing her with a stare, he finally nodded. “We’ll see to that, but first let’s finish the report.”

  When she got to the description of the thief, Dunlop’s eyebrows shot up.

  “I know it sounds farfetched, but that’s what the person looked like, as if from a horror flick or something. Everything happened so fast, I couldn’t tell if it was a mask or real.”

  He nodded. “Lots of kooks out there. Anything’s possible these days. Go on back to the waiting room and I’ll get a few officers to accompany you home and inspect the damage.”

  Dorrie waited on one of the uncomfortable vinyl chairs until finally two officers joined her. The middle-aged mustached one with graying temples introduced himself as Detective Willowby. The younger curly haired blond one he called Townsend.

  “Are you able to drive, Miss?” Willowby asked.

  “Yes. I made it here under worse conditions.”

  “Fine. We’ll follow you in the squad and have a look-see.”

  They pulled up to the front of the house. The gray-haired Willowby examined the front lock and nodded. “Those scratches are where our burglar gained entry.”

  He took a few notes, then opened the door. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here.”

  One look at the chaos and he frowned. “Any enemies, young lady?”