life.
********************************************************
Eric's phone rang for the hundredth time that morning. It was the secretary again. Angrily he hung up and continued loading up for his excursion to the aquarium.
He checked the various guns and knives he had hidden on his person. All of them were secure. Enough to kill eight or nine men he thought. The bullet proof vest was probably overkill, but better safe than sorry.
The car was waiting for him when he got outside. However, the driver was not in it. Instead he was standing off to the side, arguing with a woman.
"-very important I said. You don't understand-"
"Ma'am, you have to leave. This is private property. I-"
"If I could just talk to Mr. Fitzgerald I think he will agree that-"
"I will agree what?" Eric interrupted.
The woman was one of those striking beauties. Red hair, but closer to brown than orange. Her face wasn't the symmetric oval that usually appeared on fashion magazines, but a more dominant, almost masculine attractiveness. She was wearing a pair of heels and a skin tight white dress, but she looked uncomfortable enough for Eric to wonder why she bothered.
"Mr. Fitzgerald. We had an appointment this morning."
"Ms. Donovan I presume? I canceled that appointment. I'm a very busy man."
"Listen." She had maneuvered herself clumsily around the car to where he was standing. Even in her heels she was much shorter than him, and the sight of her staring straight up at him was comical. "I don't know what kind of business you are on, but I promise you that this is more important."
"Saul." Eric called to the driver, "Call security please."
"Right away sir." The driver bowed and pulled out a cell phone.
"Arggh. You stupid man." Her intense green eyes flashed. Eric found himself more and more amused by her. "Wherever your going, whatever it is you need to do, just let me go with you. Just give me that five minutes. Then I will leave you alone forever. Please. Just five minutes."
"And why should I?"
She precariously balanced herself on the tips of her heels in order to whisper
S
********************************************************
Eric's phone rang for the hundredth time that morning. It was the secretary again. Angrily he hung up and continued loading up for his excursion to the aquarium.
He checked the various guns and knives he had hidden on his person. All of them were secure. Enough to kill eight or nine men he thought. The bullet proof vest was probably overkill, but better safe than sorry.
The car was waiting for him when he got outside. However, the driver was not in it. Instead he was standing off to the side, arguing with a woman.
"-very important I said. You don't understand-"
"Ma'am, you have to leave. This is private property. I-"
"If I could just talk to Mr. Fitzgerald I think he will agree that-"
"I will agree what?" Eric interrupted.
The woman was one of those striking beauties. Red hair, but closer to brown than orange. Her face wasn't the symmetric oval that usually appeared on fashion magazines, but a more dominant, almost masculine attractiveness. She was wearing a pair of heels and a skin tight white dress, but she looked uncomfortable enough for Eric to wonder why she bothered.
"Mr. Fitzgerald. We had an appointment this morning."
"Ms. Donovan I presume? I canceled that appointment. I'm a very busy man."
"Listen." She had maneuvered herself clumsily around the car to where he was standing. Even in her heels she was much shorter than him, and the sight of her staring straight up at him was comical. "I don't know what kind of business you are on, but I promise you that this is more important."
"Saul." Eric called to the driver, "Call security please."
"Right away sir." The driver bowed and pulled out a cell phone.
"Arggh. You stupid man." Her intense green eyes flashed. Eric found himself more and more amused by her. "Wherever your going, whatever it is you need to do, just let me go with you. Just give me that five minutes. Then I will leave you alone forever. Please. Just five minutes."
"And why should I?"
She precariously balanced herself on the tips of her heels in order to whisper
S
