She walked in and slammed the door. “Okay,
I’m here. Now, will you please tell me why it was so important for
me to drive all the way up here tonight? You know I hate this
place. And I had to cancel my party.”
Larry glanced over at his super-hot
25-year-old girlfriend. Her body could still blow away most of the
competition at a Miss America Pageant. “I’ll explain. Just sit down
and chill.”
He looked back at his laptop. Larry wasn’t a
bad-looking 30-year old, if you could see past the scruffy beard
and the long stringy hair.
She walked up behind him. “Who’s that?”
“
It’s a girl I went to high
school with.”
“
What about the
guy?”
Larry didn’t answer. He just puffed on his
pipe.
Erin backed away. She hated his smoking, but
he didn’t care. “Why am I here, Larry? This place stinks like dead
fish.”
Larry kept his eyes on his
laptop screen. “Well, this
is
a fish camp. But I do my best
writing up here.”
“
Fine. But
I
don’t need to be
here. And let’s face it, Honey—your
best
writing
is just not good enough. When
are you going to give it up? You’ve written six books—and you
still don’t have a publishing contract. You’ve got hundreds of
rejection letters, and—“
“—
thousands, actually. And
each rejection brings me closer to a contract. You know that’s what
I always say. Each failure brings me closer to success.”
“
Yeah. I know that’s what
you
say
. But
what’s the lucky number? One million? Do you have to get a million
rejections before you get a contract?”
“
Hey, there’s a reason they
call me ‘Lucky Larry.’”
“
Yeah, yeah, I know the
story. You got the big inheritance right when you dropped out of
college. Then you won $3 million in the Texas Lottery. And then
you got
me
.
It’s true—you
are
a lucky guy. You’re lucky at everything—except
writing.”
“
Publishing
. I don’t
need
luck with my
writing. I’m an gifted novelist.” He held his pipe with dignity as
he puffed. “I just need a lucky break with a publisher.” He began
typing at full speed.
Erin sat down at the small table and poured
herself a glass of Merlot. At least he brought along my favorite,
she thought. She just hoped he had more than one bottle.
“
For book seven, I’m taking
a totally different approach. I signed up for a free account on
this new website, DirectFromTheAuthor.com, using the name ‘Barry
Undermine.’”
“
Okay…that’s a strange name.
But it’s about time you started using a pseudonym. It’s no wonder
you get rejected, with a name like Larry Luzor.”
He had always been proud of
the Luzor family name. His grandfather was a successful
industrialist, Joseph Alfred Luzor, who named his son Philip Karl
Luzor, who named
his
son Lawrence Igby
Luzor.
But he had finally decided Erin was right.
Besides, after six books, agents were probably rejecting his work
before they even read it. They probably saw the name of the author
and immediately stamp the manuscript REJECTED.
“
I’m publishing each chapter
on that site, as I write it. And I’m already getting some great
comments from my readers. So, maybe an agent or a publisher will
take notice and offer me a contract.”
“
What’s the name of this
one?”
“
Illusion of
Luck
. It’s about this guy who’s been
very lucky in life. But when his luck finally runs out, he decides
to impose his will and
make
his own luck, so to speak.
And everybody thinks he’s still lucky. But in truth, he’s doing
whatever it takes to get his way. So, it’s not luck anymore—it’s
the
illusion
of luck.”
“
Gee, that character sounds
a lot like you, Larry—except the part about him having the balls to
make his own luck. The only luck
you
have is whatever drops in
your lap.” She poured herself another glass of wine. She thought it
tasted a little funny, but she continued to drink it anyway. “Now,
I would appreciate it if you’d stop typing for a minute and tell me
why I’m here!”
Larry completed the paragraph, and then
turned his chair around to face her. He knew Erin wouldn’t be able
to resist the wine. She was a border-line alcoholic. “It’s about
money, Erin.”
“
Look, I really needed the
new BMW. Surely you didn’t expect me to keep driving the old one.
I’d had it for nearly two years.”
“
We’re broke.”
“
Funny.” She sneered at
him.
“
I’m serious. In the five
years we’ve been together, you’ve been spending money like there’s
no tomorrow. Well, guess what, Baby? You’re right—there
really
is
no
tomorrow. Cause there’s no more money.”
“
Oh—I see what you’re trying
to do. Now that you’ve used up my best years you want to trade me
in for a younger model. Well, you’re not gonna get away with it,
Larry. I’ll take you for all you’re worth. You’re gonna be sorry
you tried to dump
me
.”
Larry wondered why he had
put up with her. He had long suspected she was doing the pool boy.
Or one of the neighbors. Or
all
the neighbors. Because he
knew she was
not
going without. Yet he was paying for everything. The spoiled
brat had never worked a day in her life.
Meanwhile, Larry had cranked out six
top-notch mystery novels. Sure—they hadn’t been published. But he
had worked hard to make them great pieces of literature. “You’re
not hearing me. There’s nothing left. The bank is about to
foreclose on the house.”
“
Liar! When my lawyer gets
finished with you…”
“
Yes? Go on.”
“
I’m feeling kinda
weird.”
“
Really? Are you dizzy and
nauseated?”
“
Yeah. And my heart’s
beating like crazy.”
“
And your throat feels
sore?”
“
My mouth too. Larry, what
have you done to me? Did you put something in the wine? I thought
it smelled funny.”
“
Ever heard of potassium
cyanide?”
“
You poisoned me?” Erin
threw her glass at him.
He deflected it to the wooden floor. “Yeah.
I pretty much knew how you would react when I told you I was broke.
I figured you’d threaten to sue me and take me for all I’m
worth.”
“
But I was already drinking
the wine before you told me about the money. What if I had been
kind and understanding?”
“
Then I would have used
this.” He picked up the box that was sitting beside his laptop and
held it up.
“
What’s that? The antidote?
Give it to me!”
She stood and tried to walk toward him, but
fell to the floor. “Please, Larry…”
He opened the box, studied the contents and
read the labels in no particular hurry. “Let’s see…we have two
bags: one is a 3% solution of sodium nitrate…and the other is a 25%
solution of sodium thiosulfate.”
“
Please, Honey, save me. I
promise I won’t sue you. I’ll just walk away if that’s what you
want. I won’t even take the car.” She started choking. “Just send
me away on a bus.”
“
I don’t believe you.” He
walked over to the kitchenette and dropped the two bags into the
sink and reached into a drawer for a steak knife.
“
No!”
He stabbed the bags repeatedly.
She gasped for air as the antidote, and her
life, gurgled down the drain.
He walked back to his laptop, sat down, and
began to type, ignoring Erin’s convulsing body just behind his
chair.
Her family had long ago disowned her when
she slipped away during the night at the age of 18. She had caused
her parents considerable heartache over the years. And if the
little tramp thought she could make it on her own, then more power
to her.
Her Miss Bikini title was just the beginning
of her fame and fortune according to the smooth-talking
photographer from Dallas. She gave him all the sex he could handle
before realizing she would get nothing in return.
But then she met a writer at a party. He
seemed sort of odd. But when she found out he was loaded, she
decided to latch onto him and never let go.
Now all his money was
gone. And so was she
.
Larry finished the paragraph and clicked the
‘Publish’ button. They’ll love this chapter, he thought.
Larry was more like his new character than
Erin could have imagined. She just didn’t understand the true power
of his luck, because she had never seen it in action. He himself
had lost the faith. For ten years, he had been sitting safely on
the edge of the freeway, watching the cars go by. Now it was time
to jump in front of an 18-wheeler and force his God of Luck to save
him.
He couldn’t just wait around for the things
he wanted. He needed to be proactive—and just go for it. Because,
where is the faith if he didn’t step out blindly, believing?
He checked for Erin’s pulse and felt
nothing.
His cabin was at the end of
the road. It was a fishing cabin. But he had come there to write a
mystery novel—not to fish. He had
never
come there to fish. And he
had never used the barbecue pit. Until tonight.
It would be dark soon.
He eyed her body. Good thing she was
short.
Chapter
3
For Greg, the second run-through was much
different from the first. He tried to forget about the anonymous
call, but couldn’t help wondering if he really knew the beautiful
woman who was reciting vows to him.
“
I, Cynthia, take you Greg
to be my husband, my partner in life and my one true love. I will
cherish our union…”
As he looked into her deep blue eyes, his
fears began to melt away. The sincerity of her voice was
mesmerizing. Nothing could harm him. Nothing else mattered.
Then he noticed the
necklace. Why hadn’t he seen it before? It looked
expensive.
He
had not given it to her, and he wondered who
had
. Could it have
been a gift from an ex-boyfriend—some guy she had hypnotized like
Greg.
Some women like to treat a man like a piece
of bubble gum. The poor sap thinks everything’s fine. And it
is—until the taste runs out. Then she’ll just spit him out the car
window of her life and never look back.
So, what was the worst-case scenario? He
would marry her, and then go off to Orlando and enjoy the rides and
shows at Disney World. Every night they would make love. Maybe some
days they would take a midday nap after some midday sex. Wow! His
body ached for her. Whoa. Not a good time to get aroused
though.
The wedding would be in two days, on
Saturday. They would drive to Dallas, spend their first night
together in the Marriott near DFW Airport, and then catch their
flight to Orlando the next morning.
Greg decided to forget about the stupid
caller.
**********
It was about 7:00 PM, and pitch black. As
far as Larry could tell, there was no moonlight at all. The gas
pole lamp provided just enough illumination for nighttime
barbecuing. But now that his eyes had adjusted to it, he could
barely see anything else. His only real point of reference was the
light coming from the cabin windows. Without it, he could imagine
himself getting lost and walking right into Lake Texoma.
He figured the temperature to be around 50
degrees. Probably about average for late February, he thought. He
wasn’t wearing a jacket, but felt plenty of warmth from the hot
barbecue pit.
“
Catch any big ones?” A deep
voice boomed from somewhere out in the darkness.
Larry jumped.
The man’s voice was approaching. “Me and my
boys pulled in quite a haul today. I caught me an 8 lb. largemouth
bass.”
Larry strained to see the man, but couldn’t.
For all he could tell, it could have been a ghost, floating around
in the darkness.
“
Something smells
good.”
A big plaid shirt materialized at his side,
and Larry jumped. Then he saw the jeans and the boots, and looked
up to see the face. The guy was huge.
“
Hi. My name is Jim.” He
grabbed Larry’s hand and gave it a bone-crushing shake. “Me and
Barb brought my three boys up for a long weekend of fishing. Yeah,
I know what you’re thinking: shouldn’t them boys be in school?
Nope. Cause I sent a note to their principal explaining how this is
a part of the boys’ education. Know what I mean, Guy?”
“
Yeah…sure.”
“
Well, the principal didn’t
like it. He didn’t like it one bit, and he got all huffy with me.
But I told him I didn’t give a durn what he thought. Sure, they
gotta learn their three R’s: reading, writing and ‘rithmetic.
Everybody knows that. But you gotta have some balance in life. Know
what I mean? Gotta have your three F’s, too. You know what the
three F’s are?”