Lunch at the Club

“No, I haven’t heard from the prosecutor.  Is it a competency hearing or something?”

“Yeah, something like that.  I can’t believe Ben hasn’t mentioned it.”  Please, Lord, let her tell me they’ve broken up.

“I haven’t spoken to Ben for a while.  He’s been pretty busy with that trial, you know.”

“How about I pick you up and we talk about it over lunch?  Can you get away?”

She looked at her calendar.  Lane was the Chief Privacy Officer for Telco Unlimited.  Most days it felt like she spent 8 hours a day in meetings, but her afternoon was free, and maybe some fresh air would make her feel better.

“I could do lunch.  I’m free for the rest of the day.”

“Great.  I’ll be there in 10.”

Lane laughed.  During the summer, he’d shown up for lunch 3 days in a row.  That was when she was sure she was his prime suspect.  She remembered thinking that you knew when Columbo started showing up all of the time that you were in trouble.  The other thing she remembered was that Mick McGuire had trouble estimating time.  If he said he’d be at her office in 10 minutes, chances were good that he was calling from in front of the building.

“Meeting Detective McGuire?”  Meg had a tendency to be all up in Lane’s business and usually it didn’t bother her, but since Ben had begun their hiatus, everything bothered her.

“Yes.  I’ll be on my cell if you need me.”  When Meg had first met Mick, who looked a bit like Pierce Brosnan, she had called him tall dark and handsome then she’d met Ben.  Meg had called him tall dark and oh my god gorgeous.  Ben was 37 to Lane’s 49.  He was 6’4” tall and could be George Clooney’s taller, younger much better looking brother.  Women seemed to get what Lane called Bellini fever when he walked into a room.

She met Mick at the curb.  “Where to?  Lady’s choice.”  He noticed that she was still wearing that boulder of an engagement ring.

“How about Aunt Em’s Diner?”

“Craving desert, are you?”  During the summer he had taken her to lunch at the diner because she was craving pie.  Of course, that was the day he’d found the murder weapon that had been planted under her bed, the day he’d had to take her in for questioning.  The day Bellini had come to the station like a knight in shining armor to rescue her from the big bad detective.

He parked and opened her door.  As they walked into the diner, he thought she looked a little pale. But when they entered the diner the smells of grease and sugar hit her.  She turned deathly white and he barely reacted quickly enough to catch her so she didn’t fall on the floor.  He grabbed his phone, dialed 911 gave them his code and asked for an ambulance.

She woke up in the ER with Mick standing over her.  “How do you feel?”

“Good, I’m good.  Where am I?”

“You fainted at Aunt Em’s.  You’re at Shawnee Mission.”  He could barely keep his tone civil.  He was torn between concern for her and contempt for Bellini.

“I what?”  She’d fainted only once in her life.  It was when she was pregnant and the smell of greasy food had over powered her.  Oh, the smell of the greasy diner was the last thing she remembered.  She looked at Mick and tried to turn away, but it was too late.  She vomited all over him.  Oh, God.  Her head was spi

She squinted her eyes at him.  Her voice was barely audible.  “Am I pregnant?”

~~~~~***

The a

She’d gotten it all right, and she really wasn’t complaining except now there was some weirdo leaving presents outside her condo.  For the last week, every time she’d come home from an appearance there was something left by her door with either the name Kit or Kate Hart on it.  So apparently there were fans who were already seeing her as the twins.  Her agent thought it was a good thing, but her agent was a 45 year old man and he wasn’t coming home alone at one o’clock in the morning to find little love letters, or hate letters, or presents addressed to him.

Now the fan had gotten into her condo and left a note for her in the middle of her bed.  She’d barricaded herself in the master bathroom.  She held her gun in both hands as she heard the bathroom door rattling.

“I’ve got a gun and I know how to use it.”  She yelled just as the door burst open and a tall dark and handsome man erupted through it.

She pulled the trigger splattering his expensive Brioni suit with neon green paint right where his heart would be.

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m the cavalry Toots.  I have a car and a jet waiting to whisk you to Kansas.  So click those ruby red stilettos together 3 times and let’s get moving.”