Read Fortunes Obsession Online
Authors: Jerome Reyer
Satisfied that his skills as a marksman had not diminished, he drove back to his home and cleaned the barrel of the weapon. He placed it in a holster, which in turn he placed in a toilet bag, which was placed in his suitcase which would be sent in the baggage compartment. He would spend the following day, Wednesday, getting into shape with his newly devised exercise regimen.
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Dara and Peter sat side by side on his couch. A bottle of cognac and two glasses, one third full with the amber liquid sat on a slate coffee table in front of them. The room was quiet and no music was on the stereo.
" I'm very nervous, Peter. There's so much to tell and I don't know where to start. I know you'll never want to see me again when I tell you these things but it isn't fair to string you along."
Peter looked puzzled. " Please.....get to the point...You're driving me nuts."
" First of all, my name isn't really Dara Morgan. I changed it from Doris Murkowski. I"m just a blue collar Polish kid from Pennsylvania."
Peter looked relieved. " Is that what's bothering you? If it makes you feel better, my grandfather changed his name from Fortunato. Okay?Now we're even. Let's get on with our lives."
She took his hand. " No, Peter, that was the least of it. The rest of it is going to hurt. This silk company, I work for.....Well I really don't work at all. The man on the left side of your photograph of the park bench is the president of Trans-Orient Silk. About two years ago, I started dating him. He showered me with gifts and treated me at first like a true gentleman. As time went on, he showered me with more and more expensive gifts. Finally, even though I wasn't particularly attracted to him, I had sex with him. It's hard for you as a man to understand but I felt guilty taking all the gifts and felt that the only thing I had to give was my body. He became infatuated with me and insisted I leave my job. In effect, what I became was his mistress. Peter, what I really am is a whore...a professional...a hooker. I'm really no better than any of them. What I do is perform sexual acts for money."
Peter turned pale. " Why in the hell did you let me fall for you? Why did you tell me you love me, if this is what you intend to continue to do? His voice rose in volume as he became angry.
She pressed a finger to his lips. " Please, let me finish. I want to get it all out at once.
Many times I have thought that I wanted to get out of this life. I dreamed of Mr. Right coming into my life. All of the rest of the men I met, only wanted one thing. They wanted my body. I figured I was better off where I was. Sometimes, I really was turned on by my ability to earn money with my sexual wiles. It was like being a great actress and being paid for my performances. When I met you, I knew I had found Mr. Right at last. I also knew that eventually I would have to tell you everything. That seemed like a relatively easy task when the man had no face but now you've seen his face and what is more it seems as if he is involved in something shady. Believe me, I know nothing about that. Oh Peter, I want to stay with you, I want to be with you. I don't ever want to go back to him. That was him on the phone the other night, not my mother. He is out of town and he sensed that I had someone with me. He threatened to kill me."
Peter mopped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief.
" I'm a little sick to my stomach over this whole thing. I really don't know what to think or what to feel. I feel as if I'd just fallen off the mountain. I really don't know if I can love you or if I want to love you. What I would like to do now, is put you in a cab and have you go back to your apartment. After that, I'd like some time to think this whole thing over."
The tears streamed down her cheeks and her voice came spasmodically, intermingling with weeping. " I'm begging you Peter, please don't leave me. I can't go back to what I was after what we've had. You don't have to love me. I'll even help you get to the bottom of the mystery of the switched briefcases. Please don't send me back there. Hold me Peter, please."
His countenance went cold and his face took on a cruel and dark look. " I can't hold you Dara. I'm not an actor. I'm real and the last thing I feel like doing now is holding you. As far as helping me find the mystery, that no longer seems important to me. I've just lost what I thought was the rest of my life."
The weeping accelerated. " Peter, a few minutes ago, you told me that anything that happened before we met was in the past and didn't matter. You don't have to lose me. From the moment we met I was yours forever."
He did not soften at all. " I don't care what I said. I only know how I feel now and what I feel now is revulsion. Please go. I have to have time alone to get my thoughts together."
She gathered her belongings together and they walked down the stairs of his brownstone. Not a word was exchanged and there were
no goodbyes as the taxi took her away.
Peter returned to his apartment. He felt as if the world was crashing down around him. He stopped at the coffee table to fill his brandy glass and could still smell her perfume. He carried the glass into his studio and sat, staring at the bald, bearded man on the park bench. He drank from the brandy glass in voluminous amounts and finally broke into uncontrollable tears.
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Dara arrived at her apartment, heartbroken. She thought that it was probably a foolish thing to confess as she did but felt that sooner or later it would come out anyway.
She walked to the answering machine to check for messages and suddenly realized that she never put it back on. She hoped that Fahd hadn't been trying to get her. She was beside herself with fear. She poured herself a good stiff drink and tried to gather her thoughts through her tears. She knew now, that Peter or no Peter, she could not continue to lead the life she was leading. She also knew that she could never escape Fahd. He was too powerful, too clever. He would find her wherever she was. On top of all that, it seemed that he was involved in something sinister. She had often wondered about his silk business. He seemed to make so much money in what seemed to be a small, struggling business.
She thought of going back home to Pennsylvania but the thought of that was abhorrent to her. Besides, that was the first place he'd look if he was trying to track her down. All at once, she was frightened, lovesick and above all, terribly disappointed in
herself. Her self esteem was at an all time low. After all this time with Fahd and all the riches he heaped upon her, she was realizing that all the expensive gifts and all of the luxuries were nothing more than toys in her life and what she really wanted were the lasting, permanent things in life; love, happiness and self respect. She wanted Peter desperately but knew that she could do nothing further to get him back. She was in a state of abject depression and nothing seemed to shake it. Every bone in her body cried out for sleep but she knew that she would never be able to sleep without the help of drugs. She looked into her medicine cabinet and found some sleeping pills. She popped a double dose and pulled a nightgown from her drawer. Suddenly, she felt repelled by her silken night clothes, all gifts from Fahd and wore instead, a pair of jogging shorts and a tee shirt. She crawled into what was now her lonely bed and wept pitifully until the pills mercifully delivered her into a deep sleep.
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Peter awoke with a start. He got out of bed feeling strangely drained and when he looked at his clock, realized why. He had slept for an hour and got up thinking it was morning. He had a splitting headache induced by too much alcohol and he felt sick to his stomach and terrible depressed. At one o clock in the morning, he got into the shower and turned it on as hot as he could stand, hoping it would relax him.
When he got back in bed, he was wide awake and every time he closed his eyes, he would see her face. The scent of her perfume
was still in his nostrils and he missed her terribly. He tried to put her confession out of his mind. It didn't work. He put it back in his mind and tried to rationalize her behavior. He had more success with this tactic, so he continued trying to forgive.
After two hours of tossing and turning and talking to himself, he came to the conclusion that he didn't want to lose her.
Finally, at three thirty, he summoned up the courage to dial her number. When the phone rang four times, he was frightened that she never arrived home. Finally, he heard the click of an answer.
" You have reached Dara, sorry I was not in to take your call. When you hear the signal, please leave a message."
His heart was pounding so loud he could hear it. A cold sweat came over him and he felt faint. He heard the signal and left his message.
" Dara, this is Peter. Anything that happened the day before we met doesn't count. I was yours from the moment I saw you in that elevator. Please call me, I'm....................."
Suddenly, he heard her groggy voice.
" This is a dream, isn't it. It can't be you. I don't...I mean, I'm asleep...I'm................."
She drifted off, holding the phone in her hand. Peter could hear her heavy breathing in the phone and tried to arouse her again, in vain. He fell asleep with the receiver in his hand.
He was awakened at five by her voice, shouting his name on top of her lungs.
By six, they agreed that Peter would call from the office and
that they would make arrangements later in the morning. She closed her eyes, happy at last and drifted into an untroubled, deep sleep.
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Fahd reached to his right and felt the smooth, warm naked female body sleeping next to him. He reached to his left and felt the other body. He was aroused instantly and nudged both of the women roughly. Professionals that they were, they awoke ready for action. Within fifteen minutes, the three of them were standing in the shower, making wet, sexual frolic.
When he finally sent the women away with large wads of cash in their purses, he reshowered and dressed himself in his best negotiating suit. A black, lightweight wool suit, which was worn with a white shirt and red tie. He studied himself in the mirror and thought he looked imposing and totally in command. This would be a very big morning for him. With luck, he should walk out with a deal for from anything between three quarters of a million to a million. The best part of the agreement would be that once he had the money, he would have no responsibility in the operation. He would be free to conjure up his next coup.
He decided not to try Dara again until later in the morning. If the bitch wasn't in then, he would decide what to do.
Meanwhile, he needed his mind clear and unencumbered by any upset for the next few hours. His two ladies of the evening had so satisfied his libido, that thoughts of any woman now were far from his mind. There was nothing like an orgy to relax a man in moments of stress.
Peter arrived at his office feeling surprisingly refreshed for a man who hadn't slept much during the night. He had wrestled with his inner self and forgiveness won, hands down. There really wasn't anything to forgive, though. She hadn't betrayed him and whatever she did before was past. His feeling was one of great relief. He couldn't wait to see her again and start anew. He would wait until ten o clock and call her again.
" Jesus, Peter, what in hell happened to you? You look like you were in a street brawl." Corning shook his head. " You young bachelors are always burning the candle at both ends."
" You wouldn't believe it Lance. I've been home alone all night. I just had a lousy night's sleep, that's all.....and by the way, I have a lead on our friend here." He tapped Fahd's picture with a finger. " He owns a silk company, or at least what appears to be a silk company.....right in this building, no less."
Corning looked excited. " What happened? How did you find out?
" It's a long story", Peter said, " Someday I'll tell you about it."
" Okay", Corning said, " But when you track him down, I want to do it with you. This is exciting.....kind of like a detective novel."
" Will do boss", Peter said playfully, " Now, if you don't mind, we have a company to run. Remember?"
Corning took one more look at the picture and left the room.
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Fahd entered the room. The three men stood up, almost in deference. Their attitude was markedly different than in previous meetings. Fahd's long experience in this type of negotiation made him extra sensitive to body language. He immediately sensed that whomever was their superior had instructed them to get the material he possessed. His attitude, in turn, also changed. He walked into the room with a command presence he had not possessed before.
After the mandatory welcoming and near groveling, a sumptuous breakfast was served. As was their custom, no business was discussed in front of the serving people. The serving people were mostly Hispanic and they could have conversed in Arabic but one never knew who was listening. Finally, the serving people were gone and the negotiations began.