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Rated: 18+ · Novel · Drama · #936375
A new author is stalked by a former lover.
THIS IS ALSO ANOTHER WORK IN PROGRESS. I WROTE THIS STORY FIVE YEARS AGO AND JUST RECENTLY SENT OUT MY FIRST QUERY LETTER FOR IT. I AM STILL FINE TUNING IT WHILE I WAIT SO CHAPTERS WILL BE TAKEN DOWN AND RE-ADDED EVERYDAY! ALWAYS IN ORDER THOUGH!


Part 1
Chapter 1

The alarm clock sounded promptly at seven-thirty this morning and it was all I could do to raise my eyelids at the glowing digital numbers. Last night I went on a blind date with a guy my best friend set me up with. She had been hounding me for weeks to go out with this him, but I kept putting her off. His name was Jeffrey Goldwater. What a snobby name. I don’t like snobby people and the Goldwater just put me off.

Finally, after having lunch with Chloe on Thursday at a little downtown café, I gave in. After all, I had just finished my first novel and it was going to be published, so I deserved a break, right? She was so excited when I agreed, she just had to call Jeffrey and tell him right then. Which of course made me look desperate, and that I hate. So on Friday afternoon, Jeffrey called to tell me that he had made plans at some French restaurant. A ritzy place, so I needed to dress appropriately. Great, sounds good, I told Jeffrey. Yeah right, I told myself. He did apologize on giving me such short notice about attire, but then again, Chloe's call had been short notice on him. Ha, Ha, Ha. He had a snobby laugh. Who did this guy think he was??

So, promptly at eight o'clock Friday night, Jeffrey shows up at my loft and you wouldn’t believe how the night went after that.

To make it short, he was disastrous. From his up-to date hairstyle, right down to his perfectly shined Gucci's. He drove a sporty new Miata, with all the new features and even played new age music on his state-of-the-art sound system at full blast. The kind where you’re only able to have a polite conversation with shakes and nods of your head. I could have cared less.
He must have been at least twice my age too. At twenty-seven, I felt like I was babysitting my younger brother. All through dinner, he kept droning on and on about his house in the Bahamas and his cottage near some lake in the mountains. Halfway through, I pretended to get a page from my agent and excused myself to use the concierge's telephone at the front desk. I walked outside and breathed a sigh of relief. Even the thick smog of L.A. was better company than Jeffrey Goldwater. I reached into my purse for a cigarette, knowing I was tempting fate and risking him finding out that I really had gone out for a smoke and not to answer an important page. Damn! Where was my lighter? I was always losing my lighters. While I was contemplating going back inside to join Mr. Personality, I heard a rustle of feet behind me.

"Can I be of help ma’am?” I heard a sultry voice ask.

That voice. I couldn’t even turn around. It was so riveting that I was frozen in place. I didn't know if it was from fear or pure entrancement. His voice actually made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The man came out of the shadows like a black panther, smoothly and full of grace. I started my gaze at the ground where black boots seemed to melt into the concrete of the patio. From those I gazed up to a pair of black chinos into which a creme colored button down shirt was neatly tucked into. The face of the stranger was still enveloped in the shadow of a looming palm bush, but the moon played light on a strong jaw-line. The faint scent of men's cologne lingered around the stranger.

"You don't have to be afraid", he said. "I was just offering you a light."

I must have had a startled look on my face and of course with the time it took me to answer, I must have seemed scared.

"Oh, um, yes. I’ve misplaced my lighter. Do you mind?" I managed to squeak out.

I suddenly noticed he had been holding a lit match in front of me. His strong left hand was closed in a semi-circle around the leaping flame so that the breeze could not blow it out. As I leaned forward to light my cigarette and take a slow drag, the front door opened and a familiar voice resounded through the night.

"There you are you sneaky little thing. If Chloe had told me you smoked, I would've reserved a table in smoking for you."

It was Jeffrey! Oh, God. When I turned around to tell the stranger thank you, he was gone. How did he leave so quickly? And why?

"Oh, I'm sorry Jeffrey, didn't the maitre' de tell you? There was an emergency meeting called by my editor and I was going to call a cab. I told him to give you my regrets and that I would be in touch later. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting for my return.” I quickly said with a bit more sarcasm than the situation called for.
Good save I thought to myself.

"Well, that's no problem sweetheart. Let me take care of the check and I'll be right back to take you there. Be back in a snap.” Jeffrey answered with a sickening grin. I watched him turn on his heel and seemingly skip back into the café. How revolting I thought with a shudder.

As luck would have it, a cab cruised up to the curb while he was inside and I quickly slid in. As the cab was pulling away into the night I glanced out the rear window to see Jeffrey standing on the curb waving his arms in the air. That was close. Sure he would probably be mad, but then again I hadn't really accepted his offer of a ride. Definitely Chloe would call me in the morning wanting to know how things went, but I'd think of something by then. Right now I just wanted to get home and take off these shoes that were killing my feet. I also wanted to think about the mysterious man I had just encountered.

Chapter 2


Actually, that is why I am so tired this morning. I spent half the night thinking of the man outside of the restaurant. What was it about him that made me want to think about him so much? Of course he was handsome, well what I had seen of him. And that voice. It was so familiar. Like the smell of my grandmas apple pie. I couldn't stop playing the words over in my head. Everything that had happened before the cigarette didn't even matter. I just kept thinking that I had to see him again. The Mystery Man. I didn't even know his name or anything about him. How did I know I would even see him again? The ringing telephone jolted me fully awake. Damn. Where had I put the extension to the cordless phone this time? When I finally found it, the low battery light was on so I decided to put my early morning caller on the speaker. As I lay back on my four-poster bed, Chloe's voice reverberated through my room.

"What happened last night, Rebecca Brookes?” she demanded.

Think fast I told myself. You can come up with a good answer. Chloe wouldn't fall for the "meeting" excuse. That was our little joke; when a date was going bad. Before I could respond she let out a jilting laugh and then proceeded to tell me what I did not want to hear.

"Jeffrey loved you. He wants to meet again and soon. I don't know what you did or said to make him want to see you again, but I'm impressed! He just could not stop going on about your incredible date. Exact words Beck, not joking. He said that even though your date wasn't as long as he had wished, he thoroughly enjoyed the evening."


"First of all, why do you think someone wouldn't want to see me again Chloe Spears? Do you think that I am that awful and unsociable? I mean you continue to see me again and again! Truly Chloe, you hurt my feelings. Second, I don't like Jeffrey! He is a complete bore who has
no sense of style and wants desperately to be eighteen again. I don’t want to go out with him again.", I quipped.

"What?? You have got to be kidding Beck. This man has got the hots for you. And besides, if you didn't want to see him again, then why didn't you cut out in the middle of dinner with your fake publisher page?"

" I did Chloe.” I frustratingly told her. "I even caught a cab while he was inside paying the check. Now you tell me why he is so intrigued with a rude and disrespectful person.” I asked.

I took the pause in her ranting and raving to let her in on another small detail.
"It's seven-forty-five on a Saturday morning Chloe. What are you doing up so early? Or should I say so late. If you are just getting home from some party, then you must be tired like me, so go to bed and call me after lunch and we'll get together later.” I told her. I could tell that my cutting her off short hurt her feelings, but I really was tired and wanted to go back to sleep for a while longer. Besides, I needed to gather my composure before my meeting with Gill on my new novel.

"Fine. Just to let you know, I did go to a party and it was the best yet, but I'll bet from what I heard about last night you are tired.” Chloe seductively said.

"What?’ I screamed.

"Joking Beck. I'll let you go so you can get your beauty rest, but meet me at the Crab Shanty, one-thirty sharp! I want to hear all about your date and why you're so tired if you got home so early.” she said.

"Fine. Good-bye darling. Ta-Ta!" I pressed the speaker button and breathed out a sigh of resignation. I didn't want to relive the night before and I sort of didn't even want to tell her about the Mystery Man. I don't know why, but I wanted to keep him a secret. All to myself. Like if I told anyone about him, he would disappear. Like he did last night.

Chapter 3

It was nearly midnight before Luke Covington returned to his small apartment. After what happened tonight, he didn't know if he would even be able to get a decent night's sleep. Rebecca Brookes was everything the report had said and more. About a month ago, a Gill Stephens had assigned Luke to Rebecca Brookes. By assigned he meant, asked to watch over her and make any reports on any suspicious behavior that involved . Luke had been the head detective with the Los Angeles Police Department's Kidnapping and Criminal Division for five years until a year ago. He and his partner had been on an assignment for a couple of months staking out a potential kidnapper who was looking to nab a prominent attorney in the area. It turned out that the attorney was in on the ransom part and when Luke and his partner had gotten severely close to finding out who was in on it, the attorney had tried to shoot and kill Luke and his partner. Luke was hit in the crossfire, suffering from a gunshot wound to the shoulder. The attorney and his co-conspirators were arrested and sentenced to fifteen years in prison with no parole. After that incident, Luke decided to go on his own and not take orders from commanding officers. He worked out of his apartment and usually only took cases from close friends or people he knew well enough to trust.

It was about five weeks ago when Gill Stephens had phoned him.
Gill told Luke about one of his clients and how he suspected someone was staking her out. The client was none other than the up and coming new author, Rebecca Brookes. Luke had heard her name mentioned on the television a few times and seen several write-ups about the new author in the newspaper and Reader's Digest. He had asked Gill to give him a brief rundown on why Rebecca seemed to be in danger. Gill told him that a man claiming to be the president of a new publishing company had called several times trying to gather information on Rebecca. That wasn't so odd, Luke had told Rebecca's agent. No, Gill agreed, but usually it was a secretary or an assistant that called to get information about a client or potential publish. Gill found it odd that the so-called president kept calling himself. He also was very adamant. Sometimes leaving hateful messages with Gill's secretary when he didn't return his calls. Next, the president, who calls himself Ben Atwiller, was asking too many personal questions lately about Rebecca. Like what her likes and dislikes were. Where she liked to eat and what not. Gill explained to Mr. Atwiller that Miss Brookes didn't go on dinner dates with publishers without himself present or his express consent. And Gill was definitely not consenting to a meeting with Mr. Atwiller.

Why did Gill feel so strongly about Mr. Atwiller wanting to use foul play against Rebecca, Luke had asked.

"Well," Gill explained, " this man just gives me the creeps. And when I asked him for a phone number where I could call him back or an address where maybe I could meet him to discuss Rebecca, he hesitated about both. He told me that he was actually down the hall using another companies phone because since his business was so new and the phone lines had just been put in that they were still working out all of the kinks. As of the moment they were out, but that he would call me with the new telephone number as soon as it was available. And on top of that, he has never told me the name of his company. That is until recently. About two weeks after he started calling, I told him that I would talk to Rebecca and see about setting up a possible meeting. He quickly told me that if Rebecca wanted to meet with him she could contact him at five-five-five, three-two-six-eight. She was to ask to speak directly to him. Of course I wasn't going to breathe a word of this to Rebecca. She's too excited to accept offers from people too quickly. She's new to the literary scene, and she doesn't want to commit to a publisher just yet. She knows that she needs to check out different ones until she finds the one that fits her financial as well as her literary needs. Mr. Atwiller knows this too, and that is probably why he wants to contact her. If he's even a publisher at all."

"What makes you so sure he's not on the up and up, Gill?", Luke asked.

"Well, remember when I told you he gave me the phone number to his business? Well, I had my granddaughter call and pretend to be Rebecca. She told the secretary that instead of speaking with Mr. Atwiller on the telephone, she'd much rather meet him in person. She asked for an address where she could come and talk with him. The receptionist told her that she would discuss this with Mr. Atwiller and give me, Mr. Stephens, a call back as soon as she received the OK from her boss. About three days later, Shirley, my secretary got a call from Mr. Atwiller's office stating that Mr. Atwiller could see Rebecca on the following Monday, this was Friday, at one o'clock sharp. She was to come to the office building on the corner of fifty-second and Grand Ave. and then come up to the second floor to suite 250A. She said that Rebecca was to bring a typed copy of her manuscript with her."

"Sounds on the level to me Gill. There must be something else that happened that bothered you. What is it?", Luke asked.

"Well, to make a long story short, I went by on Monday at around nine o'clock in the morning. The office building was there and I took the elevator up to the second floor. I went two doors down like his receptionist had told my granddaughter. That's where things got weird. There was a sign on the door that read: New Horizons Publishing. The sign was definitely amateur made. You could tell that it had been hand stenciled in by someone who was trying to do a good job. Anyway I tried to door handle, but it was locked. I found that odd for a new company. I went down to the lobby of the office building and used the payphone on the wall. I dialed the number to the publishing company. A woman's voice answered the phone declaring the business. I hung up and walked out of the building. I I figured that maybe they did business on an appointment basis only or maybe the secretary had been out of the office when I was there, only to return after I had left. Both ways you look at it, it was strange and the whole experience left me feeling uneasy Luke. I'm usually pretty good when it comes to predicting my feelings, and I have a gut feeling that this Mr.Atwiller is up to no good.", Gill explained excitedly.

So as Luke thought to himself quietly as he lay in his bed, the sensual face and voice floated through his mind like the fog across the San Francisco bay. How was he going to crack this case? It didn't seem like foul play to him, but Gill was a trusted friend so he'd do whatever it took to settle Gill's nerves.

Chapter 4

I reset my alarm for eleven, so that I could get up and enjoy a shower before I got dressed and had to meet Gill in his downtown office. He probably wanted to congratulate me on my success. Gee, was I on an ego trip or what? He could very well want to tell me that my novel sucked and they only published it because they felt sorry for me. Not likely though. Big name publishers didn't shell out that amount of money on pity cases. I remember how astounded I was when I had received my first royalty check. The ten thousand dollars would definitely help out on a lot of things. Like my credit cards on which I had charged numerous computer supplies. The late night dinners that I had paid for. The ones where I had taken Chloe out to eat and nervously waited while she read the next chapter in my sexy romance novel. I could even probably pay off my loan on my little Tercel that I hated so much. Plus a small chunk of it had gone for that little black dress that I had to buy so that I could impress that nut case that Chloe had set me up with.

What did he mean that he wanted to see me again? I had done everything to show him that I didn't like him. Everything short of just coming out and telling him so. If a guy had left me standing in the street after I had paid for dinner , I would detest him. I would never even want to hear his name mentioned again. I was such a people pleaser and so afraid to tell people what exactly was on my mind. Sighing, I rolled over and covered my head briefly with the pillow. Hopefully after today, she would understand how I felt after I explained it to her. I got out of bed and walked down the hall to the small kitchen on the other side of myloft. It was attached to my small dining room. The linoleum that covered the floor in the kitchen was a light blue and the tile on the walls was even a lighter blue. I had decorated my kitchen with small butterfly memorabilia. I liked butterflies. They were the earth's freest creatures. I would like to be free sometimes. Free from this crazy world that we lived in. Free from all the Chloe's and the Jeffrey's in the world. I sat down at the antique table that had once been my grandmas. Rubbing my hands over the grainy wood I closed my eyes and could vividly picture many youthful summers sitting at it with my brothers, drinking lemonade and eating ice cream. Those were the days I thought to myself sighing heavily. Now my life seemed to be filled with responsibilities and too many irons in the fire.

I decided to have instant coffee instead of making a whole pot. As I sipped the steaming liquid, I tried to decide what I would wear. All of a sudden, it bothered me that I really didn't have anything spectacular in my closet. Then again why did it matter if I was only meeting Chloe for a late lunch? I knew why. What if the Mystery Man was there? What if he decided to have a late lunch also and he had the table right next to us? Don’t be stupid, I told myself. California is a big state and the L.A. area was gigantic. How did I know that he wasn’t just passing through? Besides, when was the last time that I had let a guy bother me? I didn't rely on a man to get me through my day anymore. Not since Joey. Frowning I rubbed my wrinkled brow and leaned against the sink. I certainly wouldn’t start now. That was a long ago time and I had just about forgotten about him.

I started back through my house to the bedroom when the phone rang. It was probably Chloe calling to remind me not to be late because her partying last night had left her ravished. She had a tendency to be rather melodramatic. I clicked on the speaker phone again and said hello. There was silence at first and then I thought that I heard the faint sounds of a television.


"Hello. Is anybody there?", I asked impatiently.

'Click'. Ok, that pissed me off. I hated it when I took the time to answer the phone and nobody answered. I clicked the phone off and headed to the closet. The telephone rang again. Stalking wearily back to the phone I click on the speaker yet again. This time a voice greeted me.

"Hi there Rebecca. I just wanted to tell you that I hope I see you again soon."

"Jeffrey, I don't think that I'll be able to go out again with you.”I replied.

‘Click’. Good. Maybe he got the hint even if it did piss him off. Once again I headed off to my closet to pick out something to wear to lunch. And to hell with the Mystery Man. Sure he was sexy and smelled good, but I couldn't spend my time wondering if he was going to appear again. I chose an old faded pair of jeans and matched it with a red tank top. My meeting with Gill would be informal and so would my lunch with Chloe. After that, maybe I would take a walk in the park.
After I had brushed my shoulder length brown hair back into a ponytail and brushed on some face powder and eyeliner, I went back to put my tennis shoes on. After lacing both my shoes and standing up to observe myself in the mirror on the wall, I started for the bedroom door.
Just before I reached it the phone rang again. ‘I'm leaving Chloe, and chill out’ , I thought to myself impatiently.

I clicked on the speaker phone for the third time and said," One thirty sharp at the Crab Shanty. I know. I'll be there."

"Listen Bitch! Nobody runs out on me and you will see me again. I guarantee it."

'Click'.

It was the same guy again. It sort of sounded like Jeffrey, but I wasn't sure and besides he didn't seem like the kind of person who would make these kinds of calls. Surprisingly the phone calls didn't cause much alarm in me, which was odd because I was generally a very cautious person. I quickly grabbed the extension out from under the pillow. So that was where it was. I place it on the phone base and walked out of the room. I would tell Chloe about the phone calls at lunch and see what she thought. I quickly grabbed my keys off of the table by the door and let myself out. The bright light that met my eyes reminded me that I needed to buy a new pair of shades. An expensive pair that is. I deserved it right? Life was going pretty great or so I thought.
© Copyright 2005 Rebecca Brookes (rainbow_writer at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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