Looking for Jesse by Lisa Worrall

Blurb:

Life is full of decisions and it’s the split-second ones that change your world forever.

Nick Shepherd made such a decision on the day his son, Jesse, was taken from a Christmas market in Naperville. The woman looked normal and had a son of her own, and he was only going to be a minute. But that minute was all she needed. His son was gone.

A year later, the task force is being downsized and they are no closer to finding Jesse than they were the day he disappeared. At his wits end, Nick is given a number and a name by the lead on the case.

Ex-detective Frank Ford has issues, several of them. Two steps shy of a full-blown alcoholic, all he wants is to bury himself in the bottle. He’s doing a pretty good job of it, too, when Nick Shepherd asks for his help. Does Ford want to help? No. Is Ford going to help? Hell no. Until four words resonate deep within him.

“She took my son!”

Excerpt:

Half an hour later there were only three people ahead of them and Nick sent a silent prayer of thanks heavenward. He’d stopped feeling his fingers fifteen minutes ago, and the sky had begun to darken as evening approached. After Santa, they could take one more trip around the lot, pick up a few decorations and the quilt Jesse had spotted for Nick’s mom before heading home. Nick’s stomach rumbled loudly and he suddenly realized they hadn’t eaten since the giant pretzel’s and hot chocolate when they first arrived. The Disney Channel and takeout pizza was the way to go. They were down to two in front when Jesse announced.

“Aww nuts.”

“Excuse me?” Nick stared down at him with a raised eyebrow. Although Jesse didn’t notice because he was too busy hunting through his pockets.

“I lost my mitten!” Jesse looked up at him, one of his multi-colored Christmas mittens clutched in his fingers.

Aww crap!

Anna had bought him those mittens last year at this very market and Jesse had scoured his closet last night looking for them. Wearing them today had been important and Nick got it, he really did.

“Where did you have them last?” Nick asked, dropping down to his haunches to look his son in the eye. His stomach rumbled again and Nick had a lightbulb moment. “Were you wearing them when we had hot chocolate?”

“Yes!” Jesse exclaimed. “But I took them off to hold the cup. Maybe I left it there.”

“Okay,” Nick said. “When we’ve seen Santa, we’ll go back and look for it.”

“But what if someone takes it while we’re waiting?” Jesse’s voice rose and Nick could hear that tears were on their way. “We have to go now!”

“Jay, we’ve been standing in line for thirty minutes, dude, and Santa’s gonna be closing up shop soon. If we go now, you’ll miss him.” Nick tried to reason but Jesse was on the verge of meltdown and people were beginning to stare at them.

“I… need… my… mitten!” Jesse wailed, sobs building in his chest and he threw his arms around Nick’s waist.

Double crap!

Nick looked at the woman in front of them with her son, then over at the seating area where they’d had their hot chocolate and pretzels earlier—then back again. It wasn’t that far…. If he sprinted, he could get to the wooden tables, check if the mitten was there and get back before it was their turn. Jesse would be okay just for a minute—wouldn’t he—of course he wouldn’t he’s only seven—but it’s only for a minute and there are people everywhere—but—? Nick didn’t have time to finish the conversation with himself because Jesse wailed again. Tapping the woman in front of them on the shoulder, Nick made an executive decision.

“Excuse me,” he said as she turned around. “My son left his mitten at the seating area over there but I don’t want him to miss his turn. Would you mind watching him for a minute while I run over and find it?”

The woman’s kindly brown eyes took in Jesse’s tear-soaked face and the length of the line then smiled. “Of course,” she replied. “But be quick, I think they’re rushing the kids through so they get in as many as they can before closing.”

“Like there’s fire coming out of my as—sorry, butt—sorry.” Nick stumbled over the words but she only laughed and waved her hand.

“Go!”

“Thanks,” Nick said gratefully and quickly hugged Jesse to him. “I’ll be right back, buddy, okay? You just stand here with this nice lady and I’ll be so quick you won’t even notice I’ve gone.”

Jesse looked at him warily but the woman smiled and said, “He’ll be fine with me and Marcus, won’t you?” Jesse gave a hesitant nod and Nick hit the ground running.

The mitten Gods must have been smiling down on him because he found it under the table where they’d been sitting almost immediately. He heaved a huge sigh of relief and dashed back to Santa’s Grotto, mitten held high like a victory torch so Jesse could see.

Nick made good on his promise, he was back in just over a minute, if a little out of breath. Promising himself he’d tell Daisy to stop bringing in donuts to work, he headed to the front of the line. He smiled as he slowed his approach, not wanting to slip on the frozen ground. Nick was surprised to see Jesse still held the woman’s hand. Although Jesse was an affectionate kid, he was also very cautious and took a while to warm up to new people. A hand tightened around Nick’s heart. It had been a long time since Jesse had felt a motherly touch. Even when they’d sat on the couch watching TV, Jesse’s hand had always been curled around Anna’s.

“I got it, dude!” Nick said jubilantly, putting his hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “It was right whe—”

The words caught in his throat as the boy turned and so did the woman holding his hand. “Hey!” she yelled, pulling the boy toward her.

“I’m sorry.” Nick held up his hands. “I thought you were… my….” He spun on his heel, his gaze flitting all around him. “Jesse!” His name echoed on the cold evening air. “Jesse! My son? Where’s my son?” Nick grabbed the woman’s forearm and her eyes widened in horror. “My son!” he repeated. What was wrong with her? Why was she looking at him like that?

“Hey, man, take it easy.” That came from a big, bald man a couple of spaces down the line.

Nick ignored him and shook the terrified woman. “My son, he was here. Right here. Where is he? You must have seen him!”

“Sir, is there a problem?”

Nick looked at the woman dressed in a short-skirted elf costume and the burly security guard behind her. He dropped the frightened woman’s arm and ran shaking hands through his hair. “My son,” he said again. Why was no one listening to him? “He was right here! Where is he?” He turned back to the dark-haired woman who now clasped her son to her tightly. “You saw him. You must have. He was with the other woman and the boy. I just went to find his… his mitten.” Nick waved it pathetically, the woolen mitten still clutched firmly in his fingers. “I found… it.”

“The little blond boy?” the elf asked.

“Yes!” Nick tried not to scream but panic, raw and heavy bubbled deep within him. He tried to push it down, but he could taste it in the back of his throat. “He was here. Right here. I was only gone—”

“She left.”

“She left?” Nick shook his head. “What do you mean she left?” He grabbed her forearms. Where. Is. My. Son?”

The elf turned her concerned gaze on the security guard, who stepped forward and put a firm hand on Nick’s shoulder. Spots dotted Nick’s peripheral vision as his brain tried to force him to accept what she was saying.

“Sh-she said there was an emergency. That they had to go.”

“Go?”

“I-I thought you were together,” she stuttered. “Oh, my God. I didn’t know. I thought you were toge—”

“Where is my son?” Nick knew what the answer was going to be, but he had to hear it. “Where is my son!”

“Sh-she took him.”

                                                                  ****

Buy Links:

Amazon.com

Amazon.co.uk

Author Bio:

About Me

My home is in Leigh on Sea, a small seaside town just outside London on the coast of Essex, about ten minutes from Southend, which boasts the longest pier in the world. I live with my husband and two ever-growing children, who I let think are the boss of me; along with two dogs who actually are. 

As the wonderful Beatrix Potter said, “There is something delicious about writing the first words of a new story. You never quite know where they’ll take you.” I know exactly what she means and hope you’ll join me for the ride.

Website: http://lworrall.blogspot.com/

Facebook: Lisa Worrall Author

Twitter: Lisa_Worrall

Email: lisaworrall69@gmail.com

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Thunder and Lightning (coming July 2017)

Jarrett Evans and Thayne Wolfe have been partnered in the ATF for nearly two years and their love and commitment to each other has grown over time. Now faced with one final challenge, the boys are headed to Arizona to help Thayne’s mom, stumbling headfirst into a brand new case. When a man is shot on Dot’s sister’s ranch, their informal investigation leads to the Native American Indian reservation bordering the property.

Juggling tricky tribal politics isn’t something Jarrett and Thayne are accustomed to but, as with most things in their lives, nothing is ever uncomplicated. When a surprise sighting shakes Thayne to his very foundation, they call out for help and their colleagues ride to the rescue along with a little help from the FBI. The mystery on the reservation only deepens when they tangle with a couple of locals. Questionable cigarettes at the Ahtunowhiho Trading Post may be the least of their worries.

From the mean streets of Los Angeles to the vast deserts of Arizona, Thayne and Jarrett once again brave the minefields of bad guys, bigshots, and a vicious betrayal that kicks them in the ass. But one thing is certain. Thru thunder and lightning, Jarrett and Thayne are never alone. They’ll fight for each other down to the last man standing, even if it costs them their very lives.

Update on the Death and Destruction series :)

Hi everyone. I figured since I am reaching the end of the Death and Destruction series, approaching my 50th release, I should finally start a blog over here on Goodreads. I have to tell you, I'm a really terrible blogger but I'll do my best to keep y'all updated about what's going on in the Patricia Logan book world. 

I just put in a cover art request for "Thunder and Lightning" (Death and Destruction Book 6). I will be sharing it on my FB wall as soon as it's ready :)

Meanwhile, here's the blurb: 

Jarrett Evans and Thayne Wolfe have been partnered in the ATF for nearly two years and their love and commitment to each other has grown over time. Now faced with one final challenge, the boys are headed to Arizona to help Thayne’s mom, stumbling headfirst into a brand new case. When a man is shot on Dot’s ranch, their informal investigation leads to the Native American reservation bordering the property.

Juggling tricky tribal politics isn’t something Jarrett and Thayne are accustomed to but, as with most things in their lives, nothing is ever uncomplicated. When they call out for help, the FBI’s two most capable agents, Lincoln Snow and Mac McCallahan, ride to the rescue along with friends from the ATF. The mystery on the reservation only deepens when they tangle with a couple of local cops who seem to know more than they’ll admit to about questionable cigarettes at the Ahtunowhiho Trading Post.

From the mean streets of Los Angeles to the vast deserts of Arizona, our heroes once again brave the minefield of bad guys, bigshots, and a vicious betrayal that kicks them in the ass. But one thing is certain, thru thunder and lightning, Jarrett and Thayne are never alone. They’ll fight for each other down to the last man standing, even if it costs them their very lives.

There you go. I have already started and expect it to be ready by Late June :)

By the way, I've put the whole series back on KU so if anyone is interested, they're all in there. Thanks so much for reading. Your reviews mean more than I can say. Patti xoxo

Thayne è uno stupendo agente dell’ATF, abilissimo con le armi e duro come l’acciaio. Ha appena terminato questo incarico in incognito dove ha assistito all’omicidio di Noah, un dolce e gentile ragazzo che era diventato il suo amante, e ne è uscito distrutto. Non è per niente pronto a tornare in servizio, a dire il vero. Ho pensato che mettere insieme due uomini così problematici, ciascuno desideroso di manovrare l’altro in camera da letto, fosse divertente, e perciò li ho creati in questo modo. Thayne non è in nessun senso una figura sottomessa, tantomeno fisicamente: è bellissimo, tosto e ha una famiglia fantastica (Dot, la sua mamma, e Sarah, la sua migliore amica). Però avevo anche bisogno di affiancargli un tipo come Jarrett, che ha visto l’inferno.

Sapevo già di amare Jarrett. Nella mia mente è sempre stato una figura epica e così, mentre decidevo che tipo di uomo potesse essere in grado di gestire il mio Marine tosto e torturato, che si sentiva completamente solo al mondo – senza famiglia, senza amici (eccettuato Tate e pochi altri) e senza amore –, sapevo che chiunque avrei scelto doveva essere un maschio alfa di primissimo livello. Ed è così che è nato Thayne Wolfe, che rappresenta l’opposto di Jarrett in tanti sensi.

Ora, quando un personaggio come Jarrett salta fuori dalla mia testa per finire nelle pagine di un libro, di solito diventa il protagonista della storia successiva. Ma, nel suo caso, non riuscivo a sopportare l’idea di farne il Marine Bodyguard n° 4 e finirla lì. Lui è uno di quei personaggi simili al mio Cassidy Ryan di Catene d’Argento e tutti quelli della serie Master Boys. Cassidy compare più e più volte nei miei libri e addirittura sconfina in altre serie, come in The Thief della serie Bodyguard. Jarrett, come Cassidy, è uno di quei personaggi che si meritano più di 70,000 – 80,000 parole (o 375 pagine, se preferite) ed è così che è nata la serie Morte e Distruzione.

Se avete letto The Brat, sapete già che Jarrett non è un bravo ragazzo. Ha avuto un sacco di problemi ed è un personaggio molto complesso con una personalità appena abbozzata (a dir poco). A quel punto era diventato un mercenario, ma aveva ancora un cuore e un anima; in più, aveva rivelato un gran senso dell’umorismo oltre a essere sexy da morire.

Ho cominciato a scrivere The Brat, il terzo libro della serie Marine Bodyguards, lo scorso autunno, e nel corso della scrittura, come spesso accade, la storia ha preso una direzione che non avevo preventivato. Permettetemi di divagare un momento su questa cosa. Una volta ero solita buttare giù un abbozzo di ogni scena. Adesso non lo faccio più. Scrivo una sinossi della serie, poi dei libri (a volte questo consiste nel solo titolo, da compilare in un secondo momento), infine stilo una lista di idee per la storia. Comunque, quando in The Brat Tate Heston viene improvvisamente licenziato dalla sua compagnia (cosa che non avevo previsto), di colpo mi sono trovata nella necessità di trovargli un sostituto, e quell’uomo è stato Jarrett Evans; lui sa come aiutare Thayne a gestire i suoi demoni, perché anche lui ha i propri da tenere a bada.

“E adesso?”, mi sono detta. Sapevo che la serie su Jarrett e Thayne sarebbe stata diversa da ogni altra serie che avessi scritto. Volevo scrivere diversi libri in cui i miei ragazzi si conoscevano, maturavano, s’innamoravano l’uno dell’altro e avevano un lieto fine. Ma volevo anche scrivere delle belle storie – ciascuna con un tocco di thriller – che avessero però anche un alone di mistero irrisolto che non avrei dissipato finché non avessi scritto l’ultimo libro. Non sapevo allora, e non lo so neanche oggi, quanti libri ci vorranno prima che questo accada. Mi piace molto scrivere queste storie, e anche se ogni libro è lungo più di 100,000 parole (oltre 400 pagine l’uno), mi sto proprio divertendo un mondo.

L’ATF è stata la mia fonte di ispirazione per questi libri, e che io sappia non sono mai stati scritti romance m/m con protagonisti degli agenti dell’ATF. Ma potrei sbagliarmi. Quando ho cominciato a fare ricerche sull’ATF per farmi un’idea più precisa del tipo di storie che avrei dovuto scrivere, ho scoperto che questi uomini e queste donne fanno molto più che bloccare semplicemente i traffici illeciti di armi. Sono di competenza dell’agenzia il controllo di alcolici, tabacco, armi da fuoco, esplosivi (compresi fuochi d’artificio, valanghe, air bag, razzi fatti in casa per appassionati) e molto altro ancora. Ovunque avvengano questi eventi, le forze dell’ATF sono autorizzate a intervenire e applicare la legge, e questo mi ha aperto un mondo intero di storie possibili. L’ho trovato talmente eccitante che ho cominciato subito a buttare giù alcune idee.

Jarrett e le sue buffonate rendono divertente la lettura. Dopo che il primo libro, Morte e Distruzione, è stato completato, ho deciso di inserire dopo il finale il prologo del libro successivo ed è così che è nata la scena iniziale di Fuochi d’Artificio, in cui vediamo Jarrett saltare giù da un edificio servendosi di un sospetto come contrappeso. Volevo che Jarrett fosse un personaggio epico sin dall’inizio delle sue avventure insieme a Thayne, e così è. Se i miei lettori mi vedessero mentre escogito le peripezie di Jarrett, penserebbero che sono matta: me ne sto lì seduta a ridacchiare da sola mentre le mie dita volano sulla tastiera, dando vita a un’altra delle sue gesta pazzesche.

Uno dei motivi per cui questi libri richiedono diverso tempo per essere scritti è il lavoro di ricerca necessario per ognuno. Nelle prossime newsletter vi racconterò cosa succede nel mentre e cosa mi è d’aiuto, ma per ora questo testo è già venuto abbastanza lungo e sarà meglio che mi fermi finché siete ancora svegli. Ahah!

Ci risentiamo la prossima volta. A coloro che vivono negli States, faccio tanti auguri per il Giorno del Ringraziamento; a coloro che vivono all’estero, passate un felice autunno. Tornerò presto con una nuova newsletter. E anche con alcuni estratti da Locked and Loaded, il 4° libro della serie che è già in fase di scrittura. Grazie per esservi iscritti e, se avete amici ai quali piacciono i libri, per favore indirizzateli al sito web così potranno iscriversi alla newsletter anche loro. xoxo

Introducing: Cup O'Jarrett

Welcome to my new blogging project called “Cup O’Jarrett”. For those of you who follow my writing, you’ll recognize Jarrett as one of a pair of ATF agents from my Death and Destruction series. I am currently writing book 4, “Locked and Loaded” which I hope to have out by the end of the year but by mid-January 2017 at the latest.

2016 has gone quickly for me. I’ve released several books but have been concentrating on the D&D series since I began writing these two hot men back in February. I have gotten caught up in their adventures to the point where I can’t stop writing them. With nearly 100 reviews on the 3 books I’ve released so far, I think my readers appreciate the road I’ve taken. These two are so easy and fun to write, I think they’ll be around for a while. I don’t see any end to the series as long as the stories keep coming so please stick with me if you are enjoying them.

I’ll be giving you folks an update on my progress every now and then on the weekly blog and I also intend on doing a monthly newsletter. My friend Jeff Adkins has been working to set up an email delivery from all the folks who’ve signed up as a “Loganite” on my website. If you’d like to get on the monthly newsletter list, please run over to: http://authorpatricialogan.com/index.php/component/users/?view=registration and become a Loganite. I look forward to being able to share special excerpts and back stories exclusive to my friends over there. Thank you so much.

The first newsletter will have a behind the scenes look at the research tools I’ve been using for these stories. It’s a lot of work but really fun and I thought you might like to see where I get my information because, trust me, not all of it is fiction J

So, without further ado, I leave you with a little excerpt from “Locked and Loaded” (Death and Destruction series Book 4)

“Agents, I think you both know Agent Adael Dayan,” SAC Stanger said.

Adael Dayan was Israeli Mossad and had worked a sensitive overseas mission with Jarrett right before Jarrett’s service with the Marine Corps had been up. In fact, that last mission had gone wrong in several ways and had resulted in Jarrett making the decision to finally quit the Corps and leave his career behind. Jarrett and Adael had gone their separate ways as well but not without having to cut ties that were deeper than simply two spies working together. He glanced at Thayne. His lover was eyeballing Adael with an expression of deep concern. It was obvious to Jarrett that Thayne didn’t appreciate the introduction of a man he knew had once been Jarrett’s lover. They’d met while working the fireworks case this past summer. He and Thayne both stood as Adael entered. Dayan smiled broadly and walked into the room.

“Jarrett!” he said. He opened both arms and before Jarrett could even back up, Adael had pulled him into a hug. He had no choice but to wrap his arms around Adael and hug him back. He watched Thayne over his shoulder. He looked pissed as hell.

“Dayan. This is a surprise.”

Adael let go and stepped back before turning to Thayne. To Jarrett’s shock, he swept Thayne into a hug as well.

“It’s good to see you too, Thayne,” Adael added.

His partner flailed for a few seconds and then reluctantly hugged Adael back as he sent Jarrett a puzzled expression. Jarrett threw him a tiny smile as Adael finally let go. He grabbed Thayne’s biceps, holding him at arm’s length as he grinned widely.

“It’s so good to see you both,” he said, looking between Thayne and Jarrett. When he finally dropped his hands and turned to hold out a hand to Stanger, Jarrett breathed a sigh of relief.

“You too, Dayan. What are you doing here?” Jarrett asked as Stanger shook Adael’s hand and then waved the three of them into chairs. Adael walked over to the wall and grabbed a vacant chair, dragging it over to join Jarrett and Thayne’s in front of Stanger’s desk.

“SAC Stanger and the ATF asked me here to help out with getting you an introduction to Mills Lang,” Adael answered simply.

Jarrett snorted. “And just how are ya gonna do that?”

“As I started to say, Evans, Agent Dayan is going to get you an introduction to Mills Lang’s new crew as an Iranian buyer,” Stanger continued. “Agent Dayan has been working on an operation which has been going on inside Lang’s organization for months now and at risk of making a pun, when he rolled out the big guns, Dayan here knew we’d be interested in seeing what was going on. He brought it to Homeland and they brought it to us.”

Links to “Slip and Slide” Available Now…

Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/Slip-Slide-Death-Destruction-Book-ebook/dp/B01MA6IYBW/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1477680815&sr=8-1&keywords=Slip+and+slide+logan

Allromance eBooks:

https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-slipandslide-2156508-356.html

Nook:

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/slip-and-slide-patricia-logan/1124934209?ean=2940153792538

Smashwords:

https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/673654

Vesper Stories

Some of you may have read my erotic MM Romance Master's Boys Stories. In book 3, "Kaden", we meet Zachary Teak's newest secretary, Vesper. I decided about a year ago to write Vesper's story down as a series of free shorts and post them on my blog. This is the first installment called "Dinner with Frankie". Please check back to read more of Vesper's stories each month and thank you for tuning in :)

DINNER WITH FRANKIE

Vesper’s Story

Vesper Cosgrove stared into the mirror, leaning forward as she put the final touches on her scarlet red lip stick. Frank Ciarello, her beau, would be at her office to pick her up very shortly. She was so excited to have her own man, if she could honestly call Frank her man. The very thought of it had butterflies swarming in her tummy. The Italian American pastry chef was a handsome man, standing about five foot ten inches tall, with coarse, curly, salt and pepper hair. Vesper towered over the man, at six feet five inches tall. Of course, Vesper’s plumbing was still male, but as she examined her face in the mirror for any trace of stubble, she was pleased that the electrolysis that she had painstakingly endured had done its job and the months of treatments had resulted in a hairless jaw. The hormone therapy that she had been on for over five years had resulted in nicely shaped breasts and a higher voice than she’d had as Lester Cosgrove, the name she’d been born with.

Vesper had lived as a woman for the last five years though she’d emotionally identified as a woman for most of her life, deeply hidden and trying to find her way in a homophobic world. Back in the day, there was no such thing as transgender. It took the notoriety of the brave Billy Jean King and her homophobic rival, Bobby Riggs, that eventually brought the words  transgender and transsexual to the 1970’s dinner table. Yeah, right… not in Lester’s conservative home. The word ‘gay’ was a slur to be thrown around by her homophobic dad.

Once her father had passed away, Lester had come out to mom, trying to explain who she was yet, her mother was one of those 1950’s Ozzie and Harriet moms who was left clueless by her husband and his aerospace career, which was thought to be so exotic by the whole family. Lester’s little brother Scott, the only sibling, hadn’t wanted to understand and had distanced himself from Les since then. Vesper’d decided at age thirty, that she was finally going to leave the male persona behind and become completely female. Five years into her transformation, her wardrobe was strictly female, though finding ladies shoes to fit her size thirteen feet was always a bit of a challenge. She looked into the mirror one last time and picked up a small rectangular box. Opening it, she picked up a Q-Tip and selected a tiny black heart shaped beauty mark and lifted it to her upper lip. She dabbed it onto her skin and smiled as the final touch to her makeup was applied. Satisfied that she looked as good as she ever would, she closed the box and stood.

Vesper glanced at the clock which was hanging on the wall of her office and noted that she had only a few more minutes before Frank would arrive. Once again, excitement pounded through her veins as she thought about the man she was going to meet. Vesper still found it hard to believe she was about to go out on her first date as a woman. She shied away from men who gave her notice. Her stature and the size of her hands as well as her still somewhat masculine facial features, generally made her the object of ridicule. Someday she hoped to be able to afford plastic surgery which would soften her jaw and brow line, finishing her transformation once the gender reassignment had been completed.

Vesper thought back over the last year and how far she’d come. The economy was terrible and when Bertha Meadows, the elderly lady that she’d been a companion to, passed away, Vesper had no income and nowhere to live. She’d lived with Bertha for almost twelve years, seeing that she ate nutritional meals, taking her to her doctor’s visits, and doing all of the cooking, shopping, and general house cleaning. In the end, Vesper had taken great care to make sure that Bertha’s passage into the next world was as comfortable as possible, decorating her sick room with fresh cut flowers, and playing soft music for her. She bathed her and dressed her and always made sure that she got an hour’s worth of sunshine every morning, rolling her wheelchair onto the back patio and reading to her. When Bertha’s son offered to let Vesper stay at the house in exchange for a reasonable rent, Vesper counted herself blessed. Securing an income would be her next priority. Grieving from her companion’s death, Vesper was reeling and terrified for her future before answering an advertisement for a receptionist at a gay sex club called DOMZ.com.

Vesper had always been painfully shy and mortified by a terrible speech impediment that she’d suffered since her father had verbally abused her almost since birth. When she walked into her boss’s office and Zack Teak had hired her on the spot, her joy almost couldn’t be contained. From that moment forward, Vesper made it her goal in life to please everyone that she worked with. She often prepared little treats at home to bring to work and share with the Doms and submissives that walked the halls of the online BDSM sex club. She made sure that Mr. Teak had his favorite coffee prepared just the way he liked it every morning. She cut up little Danishes in geometric shapes and served them to her boss on her own bone china plates with lacy paper doilies underneath. Mr. Teak seemed appreciative with her work but one day, he called her into the office to tell her in the kindest way possible, that her speech impediment was hurting his business. He’d been getting complaints from the submissive members of his online website, that when they called in to book appointments with one of the in-house Doms, they couldn’t understand her. He’d told Vesper that he had to make a change.

Vesper remembered the chill that passed through her at the thought of being out on the street, homeless. It was not a pleasant thought and it terrified her. Then, miracle of miracles, Mr. Teak had looked across the desk, his brow furrowed with sadness, and come up with an alternative. When he offered her the job of concierge, Vesper had nearly flown across his desk and kissed him right on the mouth. Though no position of concierge had been filled at DOMZ.com before, Mr. Teak had assured her that she could make the position what she would and left the job description quite loose. Vesper had taken the reins and decided that it would be her responsibility, as it always had in the past, to take care of people. After all, it was what she did best.

Vesper was on pins and needles when her cell rang.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Magpie. I’m out in the reception area and there’s no one here to let me back,” Frank said. After six, when Logan went home, the submissives who had appointments were shown back by Frederick, the nighttime security man at DOMZ.com. The overnight webmaster worked from home. It was strange to Vesper that Frederick wasn’t at his post.

“Oh, thath thrange. Frederick thould be there,” she said. “I’ll be out in jutht a minute, Frank.”

“Okay, Magpie. I’ll be waiting impatiently.” She smiled and hung up. She was very excited about their date. She really liked Frank a great deal. She took one last look in the full length mirror and picked up her handbag, letting herself out of her office. She nearly ran into Mr. Teak and Frederick who were walking down the corridor, speaking to each other.

“Oh, there you are, Frederick. Hello, Mithter Teak,” she said to her boss.

“Were you looking for me, Vesper?” Frederick asked.

“Oh, no, my date ith here. He jutht called from retheption,” she said.

“Did you say your date, Vesper?” Mr. Teak asked. Vesper smiled, shyly.

“Well, yeth. Would you like to meet him?” she asked.

“But of course,” Mr. Teak said. He looked very intrigued.

“Well, thith way, then,” she said with a grin. They walked out into the reception area and Frank stood next to the reception desk holding a clear plastic box with a wrist corsage. Her heart fluttered for a moment when she saw the loving expression in his eye. He smiled at her and stepped forward, looking so handsome in his three piece suit. He stretched up on tiptoe and she leaned down so that he could peck her on the cheek. She must have been seven or so inches taller than he was. She turned to Mr. Teak and Frederick who stood behind her, smiling.

“Mithter Teak, I’d like you to meet Frank Thiarello, my date. Frank thith ith my bothe and thith ith Frederick our thecurity guard,” she said. Frank smiled and shook their hands.

“Nice to meet you, both. Vesper talks about DOMZ.com like it is her family,” Frank said in his thick Brooklyn accent.

“You too,” Zack replied.

“Frank ith the baker who made Ivan and Wadeth wedding cake,” Vesper said.

“Oh, so that’s how you met,” Zack said. “Well, it was both a beautiful and a delicious cake,” he added.

“Thank you but the best thing that ever came out of that job is my little Magpie,” Frank said. Vesper blushed. “Come on, honey. I made dinner reservations; nice meeting you both,” Frank said. He took Vesper’s hand, and she wiggled her fingers at Mr. Teak and Frederick and walked out of the room. Before the door closed, Vesper heard the muted conversation.

“Well, that’s something you don’t see every day,” Frederick said. Zack laughed.

“Looks like love is in the air,” Zack said happily.

                                                                      ****

Frank took Vesper’s hand and wrapped it around his arm before pushing open the exit door to DOMZ.com. Vesper had told him that she had shared a small bungalow in Glendale with a long term elderly companion who had recently passed but since it was their first date, he hadn’t wanted to ask for her address and instead had insisted on picking her up from the office where he knew she felt safe. Though she was a big woman, the vulnerability that she exuded was surprisingly sweet. She looked to be about thirty but he expected that she may be a little older than that but he didn’t care. Her innocence was one of the things that had attracted him to her in the first place. There was something special about his Vesper that was very special and getting to know her better was going to become his top priority.

Tonight, Vesper was dressed in that pretty 1950’s style dress and platinum blonde wig that he loved so much. He remembered his own mother and his aunts dressing the same style when he’d been just a boy. He noticed the small things about her that reminded him of the ladies in his vast Italian family… the way she put on white gloves, the way she giggled when he’d put the wrist corsage on her, and the way her big blue eyes glittered when she smiled shyly afterward, batting her long false eyelashes. He’d thought she was just lovely.

“I had planned on taking us to my favorite restaurant and then catching the late showing of the movie if that’s okay with you, Magpie?” he asked, as they walked toward his vehicle. She looked over and down at him, a small satisfied smile playing upon her pretty lips.

“Of courth, Frank, that thoundth wonderful,” she lisped. Many men may have been put off by her speech patterns but Frank had been charmed by it from the moment he’d heard her sweet voice over the phone.

“Good. It’s hard ta find good Italian food in this town, but Evangelina’s is my favorite.” They walked up to his classic 1964 Chevy Cavalier and he immediately went to the passenger side, putting his key into the lock and turning it, opening the long door on the shiny yellow and white car. She slid inside onto the white leather seats and then he closed the door, walking around to the driver’s side, and climbing in. Vesper sat daintily on the long bench seat, which he’d pushed back to allow her long legs to fit. She grinned over at him, flashing straight white teeth.

“Thith ith quite a car, Frank,” she said, reaching out to admire the dash with a gloved hand. He was quite proud of the classic car which had been parked in his father’s garage for almost forty years before Frank decided to move out to California and expand his very busy cake and pastry shop to the west coast. He started up the powerful motor and grabbed the wide white wheel, backing out of the parking space.

“Well, thanks, hon. This usta be my dad’s ride. I was the only boy, surrounded by six sisters, so my pops willed the car to me,” he said, hearing the Brooklyn boy accent coming through. You could take the boy out of Brooklyn but not the Brooklyn out of the boy.

“Well, ith lovely.” Frank watched as Vesper continued to look around the car, seemingly admiring all of the fine details that he kept in pristine condition.

“So, you like Italian food, Magpie?” Frank asked, beginning to feel the butterflies for the first time. He wanted to make a good impression so badly.

“I love Italian, Frankie,” she said and then she giggled, probably realizing that the answer had more than one meaning. He grinned at her before turning his attention back out through the wide windshield as he drove down Santa Monica Boulevard. He liked the nickname she’d used for him. His mother and numerous aunts and uncles had all called him Frankie. It made him feel like he was at home. He stopped at a light and looked over at her. She held her white patent leather purse in her lap and covered it with her large hands. The fact that Vesper was taller and broader than Frank really didn’t bother him a whole lot. He was comfortable in his own skin, and after one marriage failed disastrously, Frank was anxious to find a companion. He and his ex wife had split up nearly ten years before, and he had buried himself in his business, leaving little time for any kind of social life. He was just smacked on the side of the head when he’d met Vesper and for the first time in a long time, he was anxious to dive into the dating pool again.

The place Frank was taking Vesper wasn’t too far away and he was anxious to sit down and talk with her over a glass of their best Chianti and bread sticks. They drove in comfortable silence for a few minutes until he spotted Evangenlina’s and he turned into the drive. A valet rushed up to the car and Frank got out, taking a ticket from him before walking around to the passenger side, where Vesper was being helped out by a second valet. As soon as she stood, Frank was there, grinning like a loon as he took her hand and led her to the front of the restaurant.

“Oh, thith thmellth wonderful, Frank,” Vesper said as the scent of delicious garlic, roasting peppers, and marinara gravy hit his nostrils. The Maître’d stepped up to them, dressed sharply in his black tuxedo, holding two thick menus.

“Good evening, Sir, Miss. Do you have reservations?” he inquired with a goateed smile.

“Yes, Frank Chiarello at seven-thirty,” Frank answered as the waiter nodded, stepping up to a podium before making a note on the chart there.

“Very good, Sir, this way,” he said, turning and leading them through the dark restaurant. The deeper they got into the dark place, the better it smelled, and Frank found his stomach rumbling as they were led to a booth shaped in a half moon, near the back of the restaurant. A red jar candle sat on top of the table, providing just the right traditional Italian restaurant atmosphere and Frank took Vesper’s hand as he helped her to take her seat before walking around and taking his own across from her as a waiter arrived with menus and a basket of bread.

“This is William,” the Maître’d said, introducing the waiter. “He will be serving you this evening.” Frank was thrilled with how elegant the service was and proud that they were so solicitous in front of his pretty date. The waiter handed menus to them both and took their order of a fine Chianti which Frank selected off of their wine list before departing. He looked across the table. In the muted light, his Magpie looked beautiful, her eyes twinkling the way that they had from the first time he’d met her. She smiled shyly back at him.

“The atmothphere in here ith tho wonderful, Frank,” she said, reaching one gloved hand across the table to him. He grasped it, loving the feel of the smooth white fabric and catching a whiff of the corsage on her wrist.

“Oh, I am so glad ya like it, Magpie. I wanted ta make a good impression on youz,” he confessed, feeling somewhat self conscious because her speech, though interesting in its pattern, didn’t sound like some Guido right off the Jersey Shore. He looked down at their hands, still clasped across the table. “I… I hope ya don’t think of me as just some schmuck from Brooklyn. It’s hard tryin to make an impression on a real lady,” he confessed. He glanced up when she squeezed his hand.

“Frank, can I tell you a thory?” Vesper asked. He brightened a bit, looking into her compassionate eyes.

“Of course, Magpie,” he said and then he noticed the waiter coming back.

“Are you ready to order, Sir, Miss?” William asked. Frank hadn’t even cracked open the menu but he knew what he wanted. He looked across the table at Vesper.

“Magpie, can I order for both of us?” he asked. She vigorously nodded, closing her menu and handing it off to William, the waiter.

“Of courth, Frankie,” she said and he smiled, handing the menu to the waiter.

“Great, well, let’s see, start us off with a Caesar salad, oysters Florentine, and then the veal with bacon wrapped scallops and angel hair pasta with the basil marinara,” he recited.

“Very good selections, Sir,” William said and then closing his pad, he left them alone. Frank watched as Vesper removed her gloves, setting them aside, before picking up a piece of the rosemary bread and swirling it into the olive oil that William had poured for them while Frank ordered. She put the fragrant piece of bread into her mouth and sighed with what could only be joy. Frank tore a piece off for himself and repeated the action, slightly embarrassed by how clunky he must appear to such a delicate creature.

“Please, Magpie, you said you had a story,” he ventured. She smiled shyly and his gaze was drawn to her perfect lips. She was enchanting.

“Thith thory ith of a little boy who wath born to a middle clath family in the theventieth. He alwayth felt out of plathe. Hith father wath a homophobe and he boathted about it openly every night at the dinner table. The little boy knew he wath different from otherth from an early age. He worthiped Dolly Parton and whenever he could, he would thneak into hith motherth bedroom and try on her clotheth and heelth. One day, he got into her makeup. He put on a fathe that he knew he wanted to wear every day for the retht of hith life.” Vesper stopped and her eyes glittered as she looked over at him. He suddenly knew just how important this moment was and exactly where this was going. He was falling for this woman and falling hard. He knew at that moment that she was one of the most courageous people he had ever met. He smiled at her and reached back across the table reaching for her ungloved hand. Her nails were painted bright red and she was soft and beautiful.

“Magpie, I understand. Nothing youz said changes anything about the way I feel about ya. I think youz are the bravest most beautiful person that I’ve ever met and I want you ta know, we’ll take this just the way youz wants it,” he replied, putting as much of his heart into the words that he could. He wouldn’t trade this woman for any other woman in the world. He watched her eyes become shiny and she dropped her gaze, looking down at their joined fingers.

“Thank you, Frankie. I hope I never dithappoint you,” she said, her voice becoming thick. She chanced a glance up and he cocked his head and smiled.

“No chancha that, baby. No chancha that.”

The End