Saved By The Glass Slipper Page 8
“How do you know all of this?”
“I talk to my contacts a lot. I also called them when you were in the shower, the bathroom, and any other time I was alone, because you’re still being followed. The NSA wants to use your theories and is very impressed. The U.S. Government isn’t after you, Amy. You’re very valuable to them…and to me. I’m more worried about China getting to you.”
This was just too weird. “Why do you say I’m valuable to the U.S. Government? It sounds like they have what they want and I’m not needed. I’d think they’d want to get rid of me, actually, because I know the secrets they’re working with and might give those secrets away to the Chinese.”
“They don’t want rid of you. They want me to hire you in the worst way, but I have to talk to you about that first. I have other clients who need data modelers, using the ideas in Dr. Urban’s class. Do you like that kind of work?”
I couldn’t quite believe this. “Wait. You want to hire me? Why did we do that résumé if you already knew you wanted to hire me?”
He sat up and sighed. “Here’s what I wanted to do. I wanted the rest of my governmental team to meet you and decide for themselves if they wanted to hire you. I already knew the answer, but wanted their input, just from your résumé. I also wanted it to be your decision before you even knew I owned the company. I didn’t want you to be swayed because of who was at the top. I wanted to surprise you.” He picked up his ice cream and took the last bite. “But things changed when you were followed and robbed. I can’t have you going back to work at the bank or going back to that apartment. You’re too valuable and vulnerable.”
“I can’t believe you’re telling me all this. So you really did know me before I ran into you at the beach?”
“Sure. I also already kind of knew what you looked like before I went to the beach, but you’re much prettier than I was told. What did Tony say? Oh yeah, ‘she’s hot. If you don’t want her, I’ll take her and leave my wife.’”
“Who’s Tony?”
“He’s the man who took Connor off our hands today. The team leader for the day shift. He’s also the one you saw at the beach. He was hot on the trail of the Chinese contacts and trying to protect you, but the main man just disappeared along with his coworkers after we left the restaurant. It sounds like your call to the cops had them hunting the terrorists down, because now two of them are in jail.”
I couldn’t believe what he was telling me. “What would the Chinese want with me?”
“Your knowledge. Knowing the NSA is using your theories, if they can figure out what the NSA is using them for, they can break any code the NSA uses. Now does it make sense?”
“Sure, but I don’t even have a copy of what I did, let alone remember all of it.”
“You probably remember more than you think. What about the term papers someone took?”
“They were mostly for businesses…and maybe some discussions about national security.”
His eyebrows flew upward. “National security?”
“You have to understand. Dad and I used to talk about the news all the time, and things about national security always intrigued me. So, whenever I could write a paper on it, I did.”
“Do you remember any of their titles?”
“Well, one was keeping our secrets a secret and how to encrypt anything we have. I think I wrote that in high school. Another was about how someone could effectively take over another country without anyone knowing until it was over.”
“Why would you write something like that?”
“It was interesting to me? I don’t know. I was in college, maybe? I think it was for English lit or something.” I was silent for a moment, remembering the rest of Mark’s comment. “Tony really said I was hot?”
“Yep.” Mark smiled as he did the once-over for me. “I agree with his assessment. He can’t have you, though.”
“Isn’t that my decision?”
“Absolutely, but I’d fight him for you.” He watched my one eyebrow go up. “Wait. You have mace and a knife, so let me rephrase that. I’d rather you chose me.”
“What about those two bimbos at the restaurant?”
“‘Bimbo’ is a good word for them. They work in the cafeteria at Madcap and have no idea who I am. They think I’m a nice programmer, just like everyone else.”
“What else do you know about me?” I asked.
“Pretty much everything you are right now. Your financial situation, where your brothers live—you name it, and I probably know it, but I had to play dumb. I don’t know a lot of your past.”
This was getting annoying. “How can I even trust you are who you say you are? You knew all about me but acted like you didn’t.” I crossed my arms. “What are we…in high school?”
He laughed at me, the brat. “I played the game just so you wouldn’t consider me a stalker. You kept asking me things like that last night, and I didn’t want to scare you off. You can trust me. I can give you names at the way top of the military ladder who know who I am if you want.”
I covered my face with my hand. “Unbelievable. I’m to trust military people.” I turned to him. “Am I considered a national threat?”
“Not yet. However if you work for Madcap, you’ll be protected, just like I am. If you marry me, it’ll reduce resources.”
I was on my feet again. “Reduce resources? So I’m considered a line item for your company finances? Is that why you asked me to marry you?” He wasn’t winning points here and he knew it, from the look on his face. It was almost as if he was playing chess and hadn’t thought out the few steps ahead of me.
He sat back on the couch and watched me. “That’s exactly why I didn’t want to tell you any of this. No, Amy, I want to marry you for myself. I told you, you’re the type of person I could fall in love with, and have fallen in love with.”
“You’re in love with me? For real?”
“Yes. I haven’t lied to you yet. Held back information, yes, but lie, no.” He studied my face as I paced. “Are you mad at me?”
“I’m trying to decide. Don’t interrupt me right now.” He was an interesting man, all right. Was I angry with him? He did save me more than once, but was that enough for not telling me who he really was and that he’d done a background check on me? Heck, he’d even quit my job for me. That was probably a good thing, the more I thought about it. “I’m not mad. A little frustrated that you didn’t tell me all of this, but not mad.”
He smiled and pulled me back to the couch. “Good.” He kissed me, taking my breath away. I realized, from the kiss, that I’d made the right decision, and wished I’d known him better so I could tell if he was the real deal.
He backed away from my face. “Now, about the jewelry box.” He stood up and returned with the box, a knife, and a screwdriver then laid them on the coffee table.
I pulled him back to the couch. “I’d rather talk about me being mad.” I moved up against him, smothering him with kisses.
Mark laughed at me. “Don’t you want to see what’s inside the jewelry box?”
I sat back up, pushing my hair out of my face. “I guess so.”
I sighed while leaned he over and kissed me with a grin. “Frustrated…much?”
“More than you know. Connor just wasn’t right, but you…I need to find out.” I leaned up to him again, touching my lips to his, but he backed off.
“Can’t we just see what’s inside the box?” he asked.
My back hit the couch with a thud while I folded my arms tightly across my chest. “Sure. I’m dying to know.” Yeah, I was definitely frustrated.
“You want to know more than making out with me?”
“It’s your choice. I just don’t know what comes over me sometimes.”
“You really are frustrated,” he said as he laughed.
“Guess so.” He was just so hot; I couldn’t control myself. I was very glad I wouldn’t be sleeping with him. There was no way I’d be able to hold back, then. I didn’t even know if
I even wanted to hold back any more.
“We’ll take care of that but you need to be patient…it’ll make it worth the wait.” He worked with the box while I held it still on the coffee table. After struggling for a while, a small rectangular piece popped off. We both peered inside the hollowed-out opening, but saw nothing. Mark turned the box over and out fell a piece of paper and a small key.
I picked up the piece of paper and studied it. “I think the key was wrapped in this. That was probably to keep it from rattling, until I dropped it.”
“Good thing you did, too.”
I unrolled the piece of paper. “This has some numbers on it. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this is a combination.”
He looked over at the piece of paper. “36-24-36? Sounds like a woman’s measurements.” His eyes raked over my body. “Maybe yours?”
“Not quite. I’m 34-22—oh, never mind. What do you think this opens?”
“I have no idea. When I talked to John, he said to bring the jewelry box and the baseball bat from Randy’s house.”
“The baseball bat? I knew it was something special. John told us to hang onto our special mementos from home. The only thing I had was the jewelry box, until Randy gave me the bat.”
Mark went to the kitchen, studying the baseball bat as he returned. “Do you see anything that looks different on this?”
We both examined it.
“Nothing,” I said. “Do you think it has a secret compartment too?”
We checked out every inch of the thing. It was a normal baseball bat with a logo on it.
Mark laid it on the coffee table. “We’ll find out tomorrow. We’re flying to Atlanta, then to Colorado Springs to meet John.”
“Did you get tickets?” I asked.
“Don’t need them.” He grinned. “Private jet.”
“Private jet?” My eyebrows went as high as possible. “What’s that like?”
“You’ll find out tomorrow, my dear.” He glanced at my ice cream. “Want any more?”
“Sure. I think I’ll need it.” I drank the rest of the melted sundae and checked my watch while he took the plastic containers to the trash can. “It’s about bed time,” I yelled to him because he was in the kitchen. “Can I sleep here tonight?”
“Where else would you go?” He returned to the living room and sat beside me. “You don’t have an apartment any more, remember? The dead guy kind of moved in and took over. You’re not safe there.”
“I mean, on the couch. I don’t want to impose on you.”
“You don’t have to sleep on the couch. I have more than one bed upstairs.”
“But I don’t belong here.” I sat back with a thud. “I don’t belong anywhere any more. I don’t even have a television to my name.” I lowered my chin in my hands while my elbows rested on my thighs.
He wiped the tears from my cheeks and smiled. “You belong here with me and I mean that.”
“That room where I slept before. That’s the master bedroom, right?”
“No. That’s a guest room. I put you in there because it was closer to the bathroom in case you got sick.”
“Good thinking. But that room was huge.”
“And not the master bedroom.” He took my hand, picked up the bags of clothing and we walked upstairs. The downstairs was gigantic with an open floor plan of a humungous kitchen, a very large and cozy family room, a dining room, an office, a library and a formal living room—so I could only imagine what the upstairs looked like.
We walked to all of the guest rooms first. There were four of them, all decorated differently, and all with their own bathrooms. Then, Mark took me to the master bedroom.
“Oh…my!” I was stunned. It was gorgeous, painted in burgundy below the chair rail and off-white above. The dark wooden dressers and giant television reeked of money, while the California king-sized bed didn’t even put a dent into the space in that room. I think it was about twice the size of my apartment.
He took me into the walk-in closet that could hold my car, then showed me the bathroom that was bigger than my kitchen, bedroom, and living room all put together.
“You live here alone? You could house an entire third-world country in here!”
“Yes, alone, and it gets really lonely, too.” He looked at me as if I should understand what he was saying.
“What?”
“I’d really appreciate it if you’d stay here with me tonight. I don’t like being lonely and if I could just—”
“Mark, we’re not married. I don’t feel right about this, and if John even suspects something tomorrow—”
He grabbed me and kissed me with such passion, I felt it move the whole way down to my toes. I threw my arms around him and returned the kiss. After a few minutes, he backed off from my lips with a grin. “You were saying?”
“I don’t remember.”
He kissed me again. “Good. It’s settled then. Like I told you, I won’t compromise your morals unless you ask me to or the relationship changes.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Marriage, like I said before. You know, Colorado’s not too far from Vegas. We could do a quick marriage and be back before you know it. Your name would be changed and I’d make sure you were protected.”
“Don’t you want to make sure I’m the right one before you jump into marriage?”
“I already know. I’m just waiting for you to decide and you’re taking a very long time.” He gave me another sweet kiss, his arms still around me.
“A very long time? I’ve only known you since yesterday. Are you insane?”
“Probably,” he admitted, almost laughing. He backed me toward the bed and forced me to lie down. He lay on top of me and stroked my hair. “You’re so beautiful. Know that?”
“Yeah, and Tony thinks so, too. I wonder what his wife thinks about that.”
“Don’t know.” He smiled and kissed me again. “I promise we’ll just sleep tonight. Will you join me?”
I pushed him to the side and turned to face him. “What will people think if I marry you after just two days?”
“I don’t care.”
“Mark, you’re really rich, obviously. Don’t you think they’ll say I married you for your money?”
“No one knows I’m rich.” He stared at me again. “I am rich, by the way. You wouldn’t have to work at all if you didn’t want to. I could even hire a nanny to take care of the kids—”
“Kids? Did you think this through up to the kids already?”
“Sure, and so did you. You told me you wanted to have my children last night and even had them named.” He looked up at the ceiling, counting the names off on his hands. “There was Jenna, Billy, Samantha, Laura, Daniel, Alyson, and…oh yeah. Ralph.”
“Ralph? Seven children? Are you insane? Are you sure you remembered them right?”
“Sure.” He leaned closer to me. “I really wanted to remember so I could tell you all about it.”
“Gosh, Mark. Let me see…I was drunk! Do you think I might not have known what I was saying?”
He just laughed at me. “You seemed perfectly coherent when you said it.”
“Well, get this through your head. You told me about this marriage stuff about what, an hour ago, and you’ve already thought about kids?”
“Yep. Here’s what I think. Your biological clock is beating overtime, and you’re having a really tough time dealing with it. Take my offer and you’ll be able to have a wonderful life, free from stress and worry and the fact that you’re robbed regularly.”
I sat up. “You’re insane.”
He pulled me back to the bed beside him. “I only know I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He stroked my hair, then my arm. “You’re fun to be with and I mean that from the bottom of my heart. Before last night, I wasn’t able to enjoy myself. But seeing you drunk—”
“You’re basing marriage on seeing me drunk?”
“You get to know a lot about people when they’re drunk,”
he replied, defending himself.
I sat up and studied him. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Sleep with me. That’s all I’m asking right now.”
“I’ll sleep with you, but it’s just sleep. As much as I’d like to, I don’t know you well enough for any more.”
“Plus you’ve never had sex before and I understand your apprehension.”
I rubbed my head. “Apprehension’s not quite the word for it. It’s just that everything’s hitting me all at once.” I stared into his baby blue pools for his eyes. “But you…I just don’t know.”
He raised his right hand. “I understand and I promise. Just sleep.”
I must have been the stupidest person alive to agree to this. I knew that once he showed me his vulnerable side, I’d be hooked. There was no turning back after that because I’d agree to anything, including marriage.
I changed in the bathroom, brushed my teeth and looked down at the beautiful white silk nightgown someone had bought me. It was exactly my size, about mid-calf in length, with a slit up the side. I loved it. I turned around and stared into the mirror. Having personal slaves wasn’t so bad. It was certainly better than sleeping in a hotel room with few or no clothes.
I walked out of the bathroom, watching Mark’s mouth fall. When he finally stopped staring at me from head to foot, he actually whistled. “Joan outdid herself!”
“Joan?”
“One of my personal shoppers.”
My eyebrows must have hit the roof. “You have personal shoppers?”
“I don’t have time to shop, and she’s really good at it. She helps us keep up the image we need to have at the company, making sure we’re dressed to impress.”
“Well, thank Joan for me.” I looked down and touched the silky fabric. “She did a great job and I love this nightgown.”