Dysfunctional Affair Read online

  “Oh please, Nadine.”

  “No arguments. It so happens that I have one homeless guy, Sebastian. He’s currently sleeping on Jacob’s couch. If he’s protecting you 24 hours a day, then he’s got a place to live and you have constant protection.”

  “You’re serious.”

  “Yes, yes I am and you might as well not argue because I’m not going to listen to it.”

  “Fine.” Alex gave in.

  “Good. Are we still planning on watching the game this weekend?”

  “Of course.”

  “I think Zeke will be there. So it will be you, Zeke, Sebastian, and myself. Could be fun.”

  “Why is Zeke coming?”

  “Oh yeah, Zeke’s my new roommate.”

  “Good, maybe we can have more than just snacks during the game. I gotta go, I’ll talk to you later.” We both said bye and hung up the phones.

  I trudged through the rest of the day and at the end I did exactly as Lucy had told me. When I’d finished I was feeling much better. I would survive the week, if I did this often enough. Once the first week was done, life would return to normal. I closed my eyes, still reclined towards the ceiling. Life might suck, but it was only temporary.

  My nerves suddenly awoke with a panic that comes from being seriously startled. Adrenaline surged through body, my ears seemed to pick up every sound. It was the sound of light footsteps that had put me into hyper alert mode. I stood up from my chair and drew my gun, footsteps that light and slow were probably a bad thing. If it turned out to be nothing I’d apologize later.

  The doorknob gave a slight rattle as the door eased from the frame. Zeke walked in with a slightly amused look on his face. He looked down at the gun and then back to me.

  “You really gonna shoot me?” He asked, closing the door.

  “What the hell are you doing sneaking around the office?” I tried not to yell. The adrenaline was starting to slow down; I felt stupid. He took the chair across from me and I holstered the Berretta.

  “You were snoring, I was trying to wake you without scaring you,” he grinned.

  I thought about it for a moment and checked my clock. Yep, I had definitely fallen asleep at some point. I fell back into my chair and was forced to compensate for its attempts to roll away. I rubbed my face and looked at the desk.

  Zeke looked at me, “you still haven’t read your email. My car is broken down.” He said this slowly as if it was supposed to ring some bells. When I stared at him blankly, he continued. “Sebastian gave me a ride here, he’s already left. Since I now live at your house, either you have to drive me home or give me the keys to the Hummer, because I’m not sleeping here tonight.”

  I stuck out my tongue at him. It wasn’t entirely satisfying so I blew a raspberry as well. Zeke laughed and stood up, walking out of the office. I debated staying an hour or so longer and decided I would probably get a more restful sleep at my house. I followed him out, turning off the lights as I went.

  Chapter Two

  I awoke staring at the ceiling. The sound of rushing water filled the room. The shower in the master bathroom made lots of noise. I didn’t mind it, it was calming. Today was the first day of my improved attitude. It had sucked since my vacation. Now I was determined to get back to my old self. It didn’t matter how much I hated my situation, it would change, eventually… until then I would have to make the best of what I had. I could do that, I was considered an optimist by most people. Surely, I could change. I laid there for several minutes listening to the water and surrounded by the warmth of my canines.

  There are six dogs in my house, six large dogs. Great Danes are wonderful pets; they are affectionate, loving, protective and loyal. There is really only one problem with them, they are inside dogs. Now a small dog makes a great indoor dog. However a dog that stands over 36 inches from the floor is not the ideal candidate for the house. I have no idea why they were breed to be inside dogs, but they were. I absently petted the one closest to me. They would stay like this until I got up or until something caught their attention and they had to investigate. I figured as soon as Zeke started down the stairs, they’d be out of the room like lightening. This was one of the advantages of a big dog, if they were smart, they could figure out how to open doors. Especially since I had put in the handle door knobs instead of the round ones. I only had two that had learned how, but those two were enough to let the others out.

  The shower turned off and the dogs lifted their heads from the bed, listening to Zeke as he moved around in the bathroom. I waited quietly; the mad dash would begin any moment. They would fly off the bed, Loki or Set would open the door and then they’d scramble down the stairs. At least one would trip and slide to the bottom. I would wait until they were completely downstairs before attempting to get up and moving. It was much less dangerous.

  I heard the bathroom door open and close, then the spare room. Instantly, the dogs were off the bed and running for the door. By the time all six were assembled, Loki had gone to work. The door latch clicked, then, it was pushed open as the dogs headed out. I heard their paws thud against the floor as they ran for the stairs. It was the sound of distant thunder, one that I was used to hearing. The boom intensified as they reached the stairs, still running at full speed. Then the yelp as one lost its footing and went crashing to the bottom. So far, only Set had suffered an injury from this falling spectacle. Then I heard Zeke yell as they crashed into him, happy and excited at the prospect of getting his attention. I stood up and dressed. Unlike the Danes, I calmly walked down the stairs and into the living room.

  I smiled at Zeke as he tried to pull himself from the mob. They had managed to knock him down. This was a feat all by itself; it was also a dangerous position for a human. The Danes would crowd around and lick you why you struggled to free yourself. For my five foot two inch frame, the struggle was a long grueling battle that took ages. Zeke was not faring any better. I walked into the kitchen and got down a bowl. I was a cereal kind of gal. I had eight different kinds, I had very little of anything else in the cupboards. I poured some Crispix and added milk. I topped it off with a nice glass of OJ. I knew how to make a wonderful breakfast; juice and cereal was perfect. As I sat down, Zeke joined me at the table.

  He looked at me and I smiled back at him. His face was red from the drool bath he’d just received. He grabbed a handful of napkins and started wiping his face. “Did you start coffee?” He asked sounding grumpy.

  I raised an eyebrow at this. I am not a coffee drinker. I got all my caffeine from soda. “Uh, no, why would I?” I replied, trying to look befuddled.

  “Huh,” he got up and walked into my kitchen. I ate my cereal quietly, smiling from ear to ear. It was nice to see someone else get attacked in the morning. If they exerted their energy on him every morning, I could get used to the roommate thing. He sat back down at the table. “You have no food.”

  I stared into my bowl. “Of course I have food. There is cereal in the cabinet by the stove, white milk, chocolate milk, orange juice, apple juice, Pepsi and left over Chinese in the refrigerator. If that’s not food, I don’t know what is.”

  I thought about it for a moment, “there’s also dog food in the garage.”

  Zeke glared at me, “I’m taking the morning off to go grocery shopping.” He sounded irritated. “I have always heard you lived on take out, but I didn’t believe it until now.”

  I laughed, “so what, you just thought every time you came to my house I was between shopping days?”

  He looked at me seriously, “a lot of single people shop one day at a time, I figured you were one of those.”

  “I go shopping every time I run out of the essentials.”

  “What are essentials?” He asked, sounding doubtful.

  “I’ve already told you,” I retorted, “cereal, milk, soda, juice, and dog food. Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?”

  He made a disgusted noise and headed back to the kitchen. I was guessing Zeke was not a f
riendly person until he got coffee in him. As an after-thought I added, “I also keep coffee in the house at all times, just in case I have visitors.”

  “You give them coffee, but not food,” he said from the kitchen. “That makes a lot of sense.”

  “I can order out for food, it is much harder to get good coffee from take out,” I replied, not quite friendly.

  “You’re bizarre; you are probably the most bizarre person I know.”

  “Are you always this grumpy in the morning? Cause if you are, I’m going to crush your alarm clock that way I know I’m gone by the time you wake up.”

  He sat down, “sorry, no I’m not always this grumpy in the morning. I’m just used to bacon, eggs, toast, bagels, etc for breakfast. Cereal is not among my favorite foods.”

  “You’re the bizarre one. There’s an IHOP on the way to the office, call in an order and pick it up if you don’t want cereal.”

  He nodded his head and looked at me, very seriously. I didn’t like the look; it was the look people got when they wanted to talk to me. Usually, it was not something I wanted to talk about. “Anthony is compiling a list of people he presumes dangerous.”

  I nodded my head. “It’s probably a long list. Not to mention all those that just hate me and would relish the chance to kill me and blame it on someone else.”

  “How many people are you talking about?” He took a sip of his coffee.

  “I don’t know really. But you have to admit, I’m a lot better at making enemies than friends.”

  “Must be the Russian in you.” Zeke smiled at me. “Seriously Nadine, can you think of a couple of people in particular that are pissed enough to want you dead?”

  “How about the guy who occasionally tries to run over me?” For the last four years I’d had to watch where I was when walking down the street because some jackass had a tendency to jump curbs trying to run over me. It only happened once or twice a year, but the police and Alex were at a loss to figure out who it was. The car was always stolen and he rarely left evidence behind. In the beginning it had been scary, now it was just irritating. So far, he’d always missed because cars have to get some speed behind them to jump curbs and kill people; which means they make lots of noise. Plus, he didn’t seem to want to hurt anyone else, he always chose a time when I was alone and not in a crowd. It gave me time to get out of the way. He’d only come close once, catching my thigh, tossing me back several feet, before he had to pull back off the curb to make his getaway.

  “I’d forgotten about him.” Zeke frowned, “anyone else?”

  “I don’t know. Occasionally I get threatening mail, but most of it is pretty lame. I mean, it’s things like ‘I’m gonna kill you, bitch.’ Most people who threaten, don’t follow through.”

  “Now you know the other reason we thought I should stay here. You are the most likely person to be a direct target.”

  “Oh goody,” I let my spoon slide into my bowl. I was no longer hungry, I was angry and nervous. I actually hated trouble. It was a counterproductive hate. Without the threat of trouble, I’d be broke and out of business, but the idea of trouble made me kind of queasy. “Did he mention what I should be on the lookout for?”

  “Yeah, he did. Expect angry people to storm into the office, threatening people if we don’t tell them where their loved ones are.” He rubbed his hand across his face.

  I considered this prospect. I’m a paranoid alarmist, who does better when there is really a crisis. I don’t make mountains out of mole hills and I don’t run around screaming the sky is falling, but let someone shoot at me and I’m fine, let me think someone is going to shoot me and I go into panic mode. Life is funny that way.

  I stood up, time for morning exercise, that might help get rid of the nauseous feeling. I opened the back door and let the dogs go out ahead of me. I would spend the next hour playing with them, then I’d drag my queasy butt into the office and hope that I didn’t throw-up when Jacob said “hello.”

  Somehow, I made it into the office. I sat behind my desk, listening to music, trying to ignore the knot that had formed in my stomach. The knot was probably fear of dying, but Zeke was going to make me go shopping for cookware later; so there was another possibility about the source of the knot. Have I mentioned that I don’t cook? I took Home Economics my freshmen year of high school and set the kitchens on fire trying to melt butter. Nope, kitchens and I didn’t really get along.

  There was a quick rap at the door. I stared at it, willing whoever was to go away. This wouldn’t actually work, but it was worth a shot. They rapped again, waited another second or two and then just opened the door.

  Anthony checked the ceiling before coming too far into the room. When he’d decided it was safe, he took the seat across from me. He held a stack of papers in his hands. I was guessing those were the letters that might make the knot tighter.

  “Are you busy?” He asked after a few more moments of quiet. The door hissed shut behind him, the latch clicking. No one ever shut my door, eventually, we’d put some kind of gizmo on it.

  “Yes,” I lied. “I’m willing you to go away.”

  “How’s that working for you?” He smiled. It made him look younger, brighter.

  “Not so well actually.” I reclined in the chair, resigning myself to the task at hand.

  “I’ve been going through your hate mail. And the company’s hate mail.” He frowned for a moment. Then his face blanked, he became very serious. It was as if another person had taken his spot. I hated that look more than anything else. That look meant something bad was going on around me. “Most of its just hate mail. Calling you names, cussing about the company, etc. But I’ve found ten that might be more serious.”

  “And you’re here to tell me about them, aren’t you?” I tried to look menacing and was pretty sure I failed. His face never changed.

  “Yes, I am. I’ve divided them into two groups: those that identify themselves and those that don’t. It would be really stupid to send you hate mail and then follow through with it after they had signed their name. Of course, stupidity seems to be contagious, so we aren’t ruling those out, they just aren’t as disconcerting as the others.”

  “So we are more worried about the ones that didn’t identify themselves?”

  “Yes, those are the ones that were smart enough not to implicate themselves before actually attacking you.” Anthony sneezed. It made me jump in my chair. The knot tightened some more. This was serious and I was probably in over my head.

  “Uh, what do we do about it?”

  “We protect you. The ones who didn’t identify can still be traced. They included the name of the relative they are seeking. The names are in, no particular order; Terrence Sapp, Rachel Carr, Phillip Stone, Gene Bonner, Amanda Reed, and Jessica Branch. I’ll hand the names over to Alex’s agency, have her run some general background checks. See if anything comes up.”

  “And in the mean time?”

  “You get to continue living with body guards. Zeke was kind enough to clear his assignments, everyone is pitching in to cover them, he will be guarding you twenty-four hours a day. You are not to go anywhere without him. If we get through a week or so without an incident, we’ll consider loosening the leash. If we don’t, we’ll assign more people to your detail.”

  “Great,” I was pretty sure the color was draining from my face. I felt kind of strange.

  “I’m sure you’ll be fine, everyone will kick Zeke’s ass if he screws up with you.”

  “I hope that’s not your idea of a pep talk.” I took a sip of soda, my throat felt very dry.

  “Nope. My idea of a pep talk would be something like this: you carry two guns, pull up your big girl panties and get over it.”

  “Hmm, that didn’t help either, but thanks.” I rolled my eyes at him.

  “You’re most welcome. Is there anything else?”

  “No,” I said it with emphasis.

  “Then I have work to do. Call me if you need something.”

&nb
sp; Anthony left the room. Leaving me alone and he’d taken the papers with him. This was going to be problematic. Somehow I’d already forgotten the names he’d given me. I hoped they wouldn’t turn out to be important. I’d hate having to admit that I’d been warned and it just hadn’t stuck. That would be pretty damn embarrassing. My memory is about the same as a goldfish’s and most of the time the goldfish is belly up in his bowl.

  Email, I still had tons of email to read. That would take my mind off the idea of someone wanting to kill me. At least, I hoped it would. I scanned the list. Several envelopes were bright red. I tried to read one, got half way through it and realized I didn’t know what it was talking about. That’s the other thing. In a crisis, I can keep my cool, think on my feet. In the threat of a crisis, well, I turn to Jell-O. Isn’t life wonderful?

  “Are you about ready to go?” Zeke interrupted my thoughts and I checked the clock on the computer. Sure enough it read 12:07 p.m., time for the excruciating shopping trip.

  “Explain to me again why I have to go pan shopping?” I clicked the x on the top of the screen, closing the email program and the unread message. “I mean it’s not like I’m going to use the pans once you move out.”

  “Because I can’t cook without pans. I don’t want to eat take out every night.”

  “I’m not real sure my stove even works Zeke. It’s never been used.”

  “How do you live somewhere and not use your stove?”

  “Soda, cereal, heating up take out, these things don’t require a stove. Occasionally they require a microwave. I have one of those and it works. But not a stove.”

  “Fine, but there are other things on the list. I took an inventory of your house. You only have two cups, three plates and five glasses in your entire house.”

  “Yeah, but I have 12 bowls.” I looked at him, my head cocked sideways.