Authors: Marianne Stephens
“I’ll meet you there.”
That’ll leave me the opportunity to
make a hasty retreat.
“We’ll all pay our own way.”
He got up and paraded toward the door.
“Hey, remember what
my list says?
Wear something red.
See you then.” After pointing at her and
winking, he swaggered out of her office, reminding her of a damn male peacock
strutting his stuff.
Serena slumped in her chair.
What the hell was she getting
herself into?
A date with a charmer who fancied himself a French-speaking
playboy?
Who loved red?
She’d be sure to wear something more demure and avoid French
wine.
Heck, in an Italian restaurant maybe there wouldn’t be anything but
Italian wines available anyway.
As an extra precaution, she should avoid wine
altogether so she could stay focused and make that quick getaway.
She imagined her date, hair slicked back, an air of playboy
charm and superiority oozing through.
Lord, she prayed he didn’t try to use
another phony accent and attempt to speak Italian to their waiter.
The image
made her shudder.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t try to speak the language.
She rubbed
the back of her head where a real headache now formed.
Damn.
If Sean decided to
switch gears and try the Italian Casanova approach, she’d be totally mortified.
What would Dan and his date think?
That she was a loser and
hooked herself up with some genuine idiot of a date?
What kind of confidence
would they have in her and her abilities then?
The headache spread to the front of her head, threatening to
become a full-blown migraine.
She needed to confide in the one and only person
who understood her “sight” and possessed a special ability himself.
Her mother’s “woman’s intuition” was as close as Serena
could label either of her parents as possessing a second sight.
Although ten
years older, her brother sensed her ability at an early age and helped nurture
her talent.
The two remained close, more so as the years went by and they’d
realized how complicated and special their gifts proved to be.
Hers involved
reading people.
Michael’s ability was both similar and different, something
he considered a curse rather than a gift at times.
His talent was more in tune
with his chosen profession, although he tried hard not to advertise it.
Only
selected individuals knew of his “sight”.
Even at work, his peers never realized his special ability.
His boss and one coworker knew how he could snatch glimpses of the past and see
into a crime scene by touching victims or something that belonged to them.
Michael’s gift wasn’t a pleasant one, but provided vital
information and usually the important missing key to unlocking an unsolved
crime.
When the police department in Wichita was stumped, his boss would
quietly authorize Michael to use his “sight” and help solve a mystery.
So far, he’d been accurate in ninety-nine percent of his
cases.
But there was just one time where he couldn’t help.
Serena knew the case
involving that missing child haunted him even now.
Talking to Michael would help her.
She dialed her brother’s number, eager to hear his
reassuring voice again.
He’d boost her morale, tell her to go with her feelings
and not fight her “sights”.
He’d always said her failed relationship with Alan
had nothing to do with her gift.
She’d ignored the warnings buzzing in her head
about him because she’d been so overwhelmed by the charmer.
“Michael?
It’s me.
I need my big brother.”
“Hi, sweetie.
What happened?
Did word get out about how good
you are at matchmaking and now you have too many clients beating down your
door?
Did you match up two love-starved lunatics and now they want you to plan
their wedding and name their children?”
She could hear his laughter over the telephone.
“No and you
can stop laughing.
It’s nothing as tame as that.
It’s worse.
I matched myself
up with an idiot and I know it’ll be a disaster.”
Chapter Four
“Can I come in?
I don’t want to disturb you.”
Dan poked his head through the door of Serena’s office,
offering her a smile that curled her toes.
After the way she’d practically
tossed him out the day before, he probably lacked the enthusiasm and courage to
boldly walk in.
She chided herself on her lack of customer courtesy, but damn,
the man messed with her mind…and body.
“Please, come in.
I promise not to throw you out.
Unless, of
course, you say something like you’re searching for a fortuneteller.”
Hopefully, he’d see the humor in her comment and take it as an offer of truce.
He held up his hand in an “I promise” gesture while crossing
his heart as he walked through her door.
“No, ma’am.
I know my place and no
more jokes about your business.
Hey, you’re working hard to set up my dates.
I
wouldn’t want to spoil our relationship, now would I?”
“I hope you’re not mocking me.” She frowned, trying to get a
“read” on his true feelings.
Nothing but honest vibes emanated from him.
Maybe
he was being on the level with her.
“Any negative thoughts giving me away?”
His seductive tone caused her skin to prickle while his
glance warmed her.
Heat rushed from her toes to her head and Serena’s burning
face indicated an unplanned flush stained her cheeks.
She cocked her head to one side.
“No, you seem friendly
enough.
You’re hard to read.
Some people are.
Unless I touch you, I don’t seem
to get many hints about you.”
“So?
Do you want to?”
“Want to what?”
“Touch me.”
Every nerve in her body screamed, “Hell, yes” as her
breathing rate doubled at the thought of body-to-body contact with Dan.
Even
the lightest caress would satisfy her urge to feel him.
No.
No men in her life.
She didn’t need any now and, maybe,
not for a long time.
Dating Sean, sham date that it would be, was enough to get
her out and have Dan meet his first mystery woman.
Let them have their fun,
with her as a witness, chaperone, whatever.
She had to keep him interested in his dates.
And, not let
him get under her skin, creating the itch she desperately wanted to scratch.
“No need to touch today.
I have your ladies in mind.
We’re
good to go tomorrow night.”
His face clouded over with…what?
Regret?
Disappointment?
“Sure.
I’m ready to start.
Say, could I look over the three
ladies’ bios again?”
Businesslike in her response, Serena answered, “Of course,”
and shuffled through the folders on her desk.
“I have the first two here, the ones for Miss ‘S’ and Miss
‘E’, but I think I put the last one in my back office filing cabinet.
Would you
excuse me for a moment?”
“Of course.”
Before she completely moved out of her main office, Serena
noted that Dan had picked up his first two “date” briefs from her desk.
His
concentration focused on them and not on her exit.
As soon as she was out of sight, he glanced at the papers
covering her desk.
Turning a few to give him a better look, one in particular
caught his attention.
On it was written Mr.
“Eight”.
The mayor’s daughter’s
alleged date had that number.
Hmm.
The address he’d written on this form didn’t match the
one Dan remembered seeing at the office.
He’d have to check on that discrepancy
once he returned to work.
Maybe the man wanted lots of female clients and figured
charging them for his services would make him rich.
But did that make Serena part of the scam?
A madam, setting
up clients with sex partners for a future cut in the profits?
Second Sight
Dating, prostitution ring?
A gigolo service?
Dan glanced at the door to the office Serena had entered.
Not seeing any sign of her, he shoved the papers back into their original
spots, relying on his memory to retain the information he’d look into later.
What’s he looking for?
Serena peeked at Dan through the
crack between the door and the doorframe, careful not to let him see her.
She’d
noticed him eyeing the papers on her desk and not really paying any attention
to the two information sheets she’d given him.
Was he trying to find other women to date?
She’d agree to
set him up with three.
Did he need more?
Why would a man need more access…?
She slumped sideways against the filing cabinet.
Could he be
looking for women to approach…like a gigolo?
Offer himself to women wanting to
pay for his services, services Serena couldn’t deny assuming he would readily,
and with satisfaction, supply?
Why hadn’t she thought about it before?
How could such an
incredibly sexy, virile, charismatic man, not be able to get himself a date?
God, she’d have to keep things light and friendly once she
went back into the room.
Crazy thoughts swam through her head.
She had trouble
separating truth from fiction, things that appeared logical and ideas that
could be coming from her own creative mind.
It all could have been an innocent scene with Dan just being
curious, looking to see if she had more paperwork on his dates.
Willing her
breathing to return to normal and to keep her suspicions under control, she
walked out to her main office.
“Here’s Miss ‘X’s’ bio.
Sorry to keep you waiting.” She
plastered a smile on her face, hoping to remain calm.
“I’ve read over the other two.
Both seem fine to me.
Give me
a minute to read this last one and then I’ll be out of the way.”
He busied himself with the last brief as she sat down.
Fighting the urge to rifle through the papers scattered across her desk, Serena
cooled the desire to figure out which files he’d studied.
She’d be sure to lock
her door when he left and do a thorough scrutiny of every piece of paper on her
desk.
She jumped slightly as he interrupted her planning session.
“I guess I’ve taken up enough of your time.
Thanks for the
second look at everything.”
“Sure.
No problem.”
He got up and opened the door.
“See you tomorrow.
Will we be
a foursome?”
“Yes.
See you there.”
Dan winked, smiled and walked out, closing the door behind
him.
Damn.
It looked like taking him up on his request to get herself a date
would prove to be a good reason to be there and watch him.
No telling what the
man was up to.
She’d analyze his every move.
If he tried anything funny, she’d
drag his ass to the police so fast he’d think a tornado had swept in, funneled
him up inside it and taken him for a ride.
Could he really be a con artist, trying to take advantage of
her business?
None of the negative vibes she’d expect to sense about a
dishonest person roused her.
He still came across as just another client…except
for the three-letter thing.
She rushed over to the door, locked it and hoped for no
further interruptions.
Time was needed to gather her thoughts, sane ones and
calm the panic building inside her.
Plopping down onto the sofa, she rubbed her
face with her hands and wished for a soothing, inner peace to invade her
system.
Or, perhaps, potential victims?
Money.
He’d written that his goal in life, to live
comfortably and retire early, propelled him to excel.
Hmm.
How many insurance
salesmen hit it big at an early age and exited the job market before the
dreaded four-zero birthday rolled around?
An insurance salesman.
Dan.
Hmm, again.
Niggling doubts paraded in her head, all centering on his
application and how many items would indeed prove truthful.
Hell if she could
tell.
Her head still registered “nothing wrong with him”.
Was she losing her
“sight”?
A groan escaped her lips as Serena thought about his
letters.
S.
E.
X.
Yep, they spelled sex.
Could be a warning of some kind,
screaming for her to pay attention and beware.
Should she rein in her impulse
to cancel his business as she waited for neon lights glaring at her with the words
“He’s looking for sex from these women”?
Or, she shuddered, did he plan to
offer that to them, for a price?
Talk about being paranoid.
Get a hold on yourself, girl
.
Serena inhaled and let out a few, deep breaths with a
whoosh.
His number, four-eighteen, the one that appeared from nowhere, still
bothered her.
Then, she realized that April eighteen, what his number could
imply, would occur the following week.
She hadn’t made that connection before.
Could his number prove to be a sign, a harbinger of some event soon to happen?
She closed her eyes, longing to regain control of her
rambling thoughts.
One thing saved her sanity…knowing her brother would arrive
Friday night and stay the weekend.
Michael had figured she’d had some minor
problems when she’d spoken to him the night before.
Wait until he heard the
mess she found herself in now.
Having a big brother who happened to be a cop might prove to
be a godsend.
* * * * *
“Steve, this Gino guy doesn’t appear to be who he says he
is, at least according to what he wrote on that file at Second Sight Dating.”
Dan threw out his comment as he entered Morgan’s office and took a seat across
the desk from him.
“I didn’t think he would be.
From what we’ve uncovered, he’s
connected to the syndicate on the West Side.
Not a big player but enough ties
to make us wonder if the mob’s somehow involved.”
Deep in thought, Dan tried to envision Serena with mob
connections.
It just didn’t make sense.
“The address he listed is phony.
Our
records show he lives in the same neighborhood as the Napoli brothers.
Within
walking distance to Mario Napoli’s estate.”
“Conti lives in one of those old tenements down from
Napoli?”
“Yeah.
Been there twelve years.
Implicated in some minor
stuff, but nothing we could ever pin on him.”
“Right.” Dan sank deeper into his chair and swiped his eyes
with one of his hands.
“This whole scenario is weird.
If the mob were in on
this, would they put a loser like Conti out in the open as a main player?
They’ve got plenty of other smooth characters running around.
This jerk’s
already made a wrong move.
For Christ’s sake, he was stupid enough to pick the
mayor’s daughter—what’s her name?”
“Julia.”
“Did she tell him about herself and who her father was?”
Steve nodded his head.
“She says he knew.
Even brought her
home one night.
Made a joke about her dad fixing parking tickets.”
“Then how the hell could the mob use him?”
“We need more information from Sight’s files.
You need to
get on her good side and get names we can check out.”
Dan held up his hand to stop Morgan.
“Whoa.
I just about got
her to come on my date Friday.
I can probably force her hand and ask her for
repeat appearances on the next two introductions.” He shifted in his seat.
“Snooping through the files might be difficult.
I think she’s already wondering
why I keep popping up at her office.”