Double Seduction (8)

Here is the latest chapter in my collaboration with Fictional Kevin: Double Seduction – a suspenseful novella we hope you are enjoying. If you missed the opening chapters, find them here: Chapter One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six and Seven. And now…

Chapter Eight – Suspicion

“Melody, you’re not paying attention,” Anton scolded as he helped her up from the floor mat. “Where is your head this morning?”

Mel winced and took his hand. “Sorry, sorry. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

After he’d pulled her to her feet, Anton crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at her hard. “Is it David again?” He shook his head. “I told you to be careful.”

Melody smirked. “Don’t worry. I can take care of myself, Anton. Things have taken a good turn with David actually.”

“Oh?” He gestured for her to continue.

“Yep. He explained everything. The nasty comment, the other guy’s Facebook, everything.” She relayed the story David had given her about his identity being used to make nasty comments.

Anton said nothing, but raised an eyebrow.

“And… and…” she said, pointing a finger at him. “Savannah is no longer in the picture. They split up.”

“Are you certain of that?” he asked.

Mel rolled her eyes. “Hang on. You can see for yourself.” She walked across the room to where her purse rested on the sofa. Pulling her phone out, she scrolled through the text messages to find the right one. “Here,” she said handing the phone to Anton.

She waited while he scrolled through the lengthy text exchange. He frowned and handed the phone back when he was finished. “Awfully forward of him, don’t you think? ‘Taking over her mind before her body? Cherishing her, savoring her? Captivating, teasing?’ Telling you about his ‘unusual techniques’ Is that the way a man should speak to a woman he’s never met?” he snapped. “Melody, you are asking for trouble.”

She laughed. “Why Anton, I never took you for a prude.”

His eyes darkened. “You aren’t taking this seriously, Melody. ‘You’re amazing, David’,” he mocked. “You are playing right into his hands. How do you know what his real intentions are? At a minimum, you could just be a rebound relationship for him. At worst, well…” He threw up his hands in frustration.

“What?” she prompted. “At worst, what?”

“Let me see the phone again,” he said, holding out his hand. When Melody handed it to him, he scrolled slowly through the message again. “Here, for instance… how can he not know where Bryn Mawr is? And did you notice how he evaded your question about the Allentown Fair?”

“Just because he lives in Allentown doesn’t mean he goes to the fair. Maybe it’s not his thing. And well, Bryn Mawr… I don’t know. All he said was he was drawing a blank.”

“How long does it take for someone to check the map on their phone or computer? Thirty seconds? Less?” Anton asked.

“Yeah, I guess.” She frowned. “What are you getting at?”

“What if he’s not who he says he is?” He gripped her by the arms. “What if he’s dangerous, even?”

“Anton,” she said, shrugging out of his grasp. “Will you stop? I am not rushing into anything. We’ve agreed to talk, to get to know each other a little better, that’s all.”

“To what end, Melody?” he asked, moving in again. “To eventually meet in real life? And then what? Let him try out his ‘unusual techniques’ on you?” he sneered.

She braced her hands on his chest to keep him at a distance. “You better calm the hell down. This is none of your business, Anton.”

She watched as the muscles of his jaw clenched and unclenched. She wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him this angry. She didn’t like it. “Cut the shit, Anton. You have no right to be angry with me.”

He took a moment, then hung his head and sighed. “No, I suppose not,” he muttered. When he looked up, the anger was gone. “Please just be careful, will you promise me?”

She smiled wryly. “People meet online all the time, Anton. Why are you so worried?”

“Because I care about you, Melody,” he said, softly.

“I appreciate that. I really do. You’re my dearest friend, Anton.” She went to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I promise I’ll be careful, ok?”

He remained quiet but circled her in his arms. His chin rested atop her head. He said, “You’re my… dearest friend, too.”

The phone rang in Anton’s hand, startling both of them. Melody stepped out of Anton’s embrace and took the phone from him. But not before he read the caller ID: David Ridgeway.

“Hello?” Melody answered. “Well, hey, David. I finally get to hear your voice. Um, yes this is a good time. I’m just finishing up a workout. Hang on….” She held the phone away. “Anton, we’re good right?”

He gave her a sad smile. “Of course, we’re good. I’ll see you, Thursday.”

Mel retrieved her purse and her coat, still talking animatedly on the phone with David. Anton opened the door for her and watched through the window as she walked away.  Even with no makeup on and her hair pulled into a ponytail, she was beautiful.  Anton held his breath as her long, athletic legs carried her lithe body to her car.  She had just been in his arms and he’d let her walk away.  Damn.  She waved one last time and then laughed at something David said. He kept watching until she had backed out of his driveway.

He felt slightly ill as he walked to his desk and powered up his computer. There was something wrong, he felt it in his gut. He slammed his fist down on the desktop. “Or you’re just jealous, old man,” he muttered under his breath. “Whatever…” He opened his browser and returned to the search history he had started the other night. He typed in a few commands and brought up the image of David Ridgeway. “Who the hell are you?” he growled. “And what do you want with my girl?”

Keep reading chapter 9.

Double Seduction (6)

The latest chapter in my collaboration with Fictional Kevin:  Double Seduction. If you missed the opening chapters, find them here: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five.  And now…

Chapter 6 – Connection

Mel hauled the groceries out to her Acura and stowed them in the trunk. She was sore from this morning’s workout with Anton — he’d been tough on her because she’d been distracted. He’d taken her down enough times that she was suffering the consequences. She relished the thought of a nice long soak in the tub, a glass of wine and the steak she’d just had the butcher wrap up for her.

Ten minutes later she turned onto the tree-lined avenue where her home office was located. A beater of a Ford Taurus was parked across from her driveway. Probably a commuter student, too cheap to pay for parking in the Bryn Mawr College lot several blocks away. She pulled around to the back door of the home and parked. After hauling the bags inside, she turned on lamps to dissipate the gloom from the approaching twilight.

While the grill heated, she opened the wine —an old vine Zinfandel— poured herself a glass. Some music would be nice. Powering the stereo on with her phone, she scrolled through her collection until she found just the right thing. Anita O’Day. Perfect. A sip of wine. Savoring, she closed her eyes and swayed to the first song in the playlist: “When Sunny Gets Blue.” She glided sound the living room, humming along to the song and drawing the curtains closed on her front windows. The old Taurus was gone from in front of her house.

She grilled the steak till it was seared on the outside, still red and juicy within, and ate it with a fresh spinach salad, while Anita’s sad voice serenaded her. The music and the wine were making her maudlin. It was this time of day, eating and drinking alone, that squeezed her broken heart all over again.

“Get a grip,” she grumbled.

She rose, left her plate in the sink and refilled her glass. She’d been ignoring her blog and her blogging buddies. It was high time she got caught up. Not to mention David. She had decided to confront him about the nasty comment and the image from that other guy’s Facebook. Maybe he could explain. She‘d give him the chance, anyway. He had to know she’d check him out. Any woman would be a fool not to. If he didn’t like it, well… then she’d have her answer. Stay away.

Her study was at the back of the house, facing the trees that separated her from the neighbor on the next street over. Switching on the desk lamp, she settled into her leather chair and powered up her iMac. She opened her e-mail, found a new post from David. It was titled “Heartbreak.” She clicked on it to take her to his blog.

The phone call was devastating. He hadn’t seen it coming.
“I’ve met someone else. I’m so sorry.”
She returned his heart, slightly damaged and not in the original packaging, and like a beautiful moment, she was gone. He cried. He yelled. But no one cared, no one heard. He was alone, once again.

It was tagged “Savannah,” and he’d turned off comments. “Oh, David,” she whispered. “I know just how you feel.”

“Well, this changes everything,” she murmured. She re-read the post, sipped her wine. “But I still need to know…” she thought.

Flash. Mel jumped as the lights from the motion sensors illuminated the back yard. Probably an animal, she thought. They’d go out in a few minutes.

She opened a new e-mail, began typing.

David,

Sorry I took so long to respond. I’ve been trying to find the words to ask you something. First of all, I want you to know how much I enjoy our online banter. I’ve really felt a connection to you over the last few months. So it’s not easy for me to ask this. You must know that out of curiosity and for my own protection, I did some checking on you. I found a few things that troubled me.  On the surface at least. I wanted to give you a chance to explain…

Flash. The lights flared on again. Frowning, Mel rose and went to the window. She peeked through the blinds at the grassy expanse. Nothing. She watched for a few minutes to make sure. The lights winked out again. She returned to the e-mail.

She asked about the comment first.

I came across a comment you made on another blog. It was from a couple months ago. Bread and Roses. Sound familiar? You called the blogger an ugly bitch. Insinuated she couldn’t get a man. It was completely inappropriate. Not to mention totally out of touch with the tone of the article. Which, by the way, I happen to completely agree with. Why would you attack another blogger like that? For providing a balanced commentary on a legitimate women’s issue? I couldn’t reconcile the hateful remarks with the David I know. Please enlighten me.

Then she asked about the Facebook page she had found.

I searched your image, thought maybe I’d find your Facebook or Twitter. Instead, I found a man named Kevin Campbell from Upstate New York with a wife and two children using the same pencil drawing you use for your blog. I am going to assume that’s not you. But I’d feel a lot better if you could confirm it. Or is the image yours and this guy borrowed it from you? If that’s the case, I thought you should know.

Finally, I also want to tell you that I read your post today. I’m so sorry. My heart goes out to you. I’ve been in that situation myself. A wound like that doesn’t heal easily or quickly. I’m here for you if you need to talk.

Melody

Crash. Mel gripped the arms of the chair, goosebumps rising on her skin. Had she set the alarm? She couldn’t remember. Pressing a fist to her sternum to steady her heart rate, she hit ‘send’ on the e-mail and hurried from the study to check the control panel. Anita was singing “The Party’s Over.” The panel lights were off. Damn. She checked the front door. Locked.

“Ok, ok, relax,” she sighed in relief. “You are fine. It’s all good.”

Just to reassure herself, she rushed to the kitchen to check the sliding doors that led to her patio. They were locked as well. She laughed out loud, relieved. “Shit.”

Crash.

“What the hell?” she muttered, as angry as she was scared.

Taking a deep breath, she willed herself to calm down. She grabbed her flashlight and strode toward the patio doors, intending to investigate. Just as she was sliding the door open, the e-mail alert pinged.

Continue reading…

Random Story Idea

Sometimes, these ideas pop into my head and I think, “what a great idea for a story!”  What if you had a blogging friend, someone who posted regularly, religiously, even and suddenly they stopped. Has something happened to them?  Their last couple of blog posts were increasingly disturbing.  You’re not sure if they were writing fiction or making a secret plea for help.  You feel moved to try and solve this mystery.  What you don’t realize is now your own safety is jeopardized.  What do you do?  Where do you begin?

Ok, who’s got an idea for this story?  Take it and run.