But even James Bond had to retire some day. Bond had in fact retired the day that Ian Fleming, his creator, had died. The reincarnations of Bond since then had only been cheap imitations of the real thing. Sort of the same way that Cindy Fuller had been a cheap imitation of the real thing…
The image of her, the real thing, as a teenage girl flashed through Stanley’s mind for a fleeting moment and he felt his pulse quicken even more. The prospect of returning to his roots and settling down with her in the not too far future heightened his euphoria. She was going to be his light at the end of the tunnel, the one who would appreciate everything he had accomplished. She would be able to see what Stanley Jenkins was all about without having to be told or shown. Because this babe had class-always had and always would. That’s what set her apart from all the rest. He’d known it from the very first time he’d followed her home from school and saw the way she’d strutted her sweet little ass ever so gracefully-with confidence and poise. She didn’t have to flaunt her obvious attributes; they were just there. She knew it and the rest of the world knew it.
But the rest of the world would never know her as Stanley Jenkins did. He knew her intimately-her likes and dislikes, her habits, her routines. He’d watched her many times as she lay in bed at night, her homework swept off to the side, staring at the ceiling and fantasizing about the man of her dreams suddenly coming along and sweeping her off her feet. He had read her diary once, and she’d written that someday she would meet someone who truly understood her and knew all the things to do and say that made her happy. And once she found him, she would do anything in the world for him and never let him go.
Little had she known that she would have to wait this long to realize her dreams. But how could she have known back then that he had already been there for her? It hadn’t been her fault.
It had been his own.
He’d not waited patiently for just the right moment to tell her He’d let that fucking bimbo blow the whole operation.
Stanley Jenkins’ blood began to boil and it took everything he had to compose himself. Patience, he thought. In the not so distant future, there would be no one left to stand in his way.
He spotted the rental car up ahead and a smile returned to his face. We reached the car, unlocked the door and got in, flung the nylon bag of the passenger seat and started the engine. In ten minutes he’d be on the main road and in another fifteen minutes would be on the interstate heading north to Denver. After a late supper and a couple of drinks, he’d crash out at his hotel and be up early the next morning to drive to the airport to catch his flight. By the time he landed at New York’s La Guardia Airport, he would have a good four or five hours to spend sightseeing and taking in all those wonderful things that made New York City such a hip city. That would be his own little treat to himself, by God. On the following day, it would be time to get back to work.
Locating and casing out Sara Hunt’s apartment would be a cinch, but it was going to take a master spy to devise a way of making a date with her that she would truly never be able to forget for the rest of her little life…
CHAPTER 19
As Ann slipped on her shoes, she could still hear Sam‘s self-righteous remark: “I think your newfound independence is going to your head. The world isn’t by any means any safer that it used to be but you seem to think it is.”
She tried to ignore it, but it wouldn’t go away. Who the hell did he think he was anyway-implying that she had suddenly became some sort of irresponsible, wild woman and didn’t know how to look out for herself? And he was pissed off because it was finally beginning to sink in that he’s not around anymore to call the shots and that was a big blow to his male ego. Not to mention the fact that she was seeing another man. She could already sense that Sam was insanely jealous of Jerry Rankin and wished he didn’t exist in her life.
That’s the breaks Sam, she thought to herself with a smug grin. You should have thought about all this before you started fooling around with Shelley The Slut. I have no sympathy for you whatsoever-you’ve brought this all upon yourself.
Ann went over to the mirror to look herself over again. For once, her hair was doing what it was supposed to do. Her makeup didn’t look half bad, either. She eyed her outfit and wondered if perhaps she had gone a little too overboard. She’d boldly chosen to go with the olive green skin tight knit top that she’d purchased at the mall on her way home from the office along with a pair of faded Lee jeans that clung to her legs and hips as if they were painted on. A little too casual for Jerry’s tastes? she wondered. She noticed how the shape of her ample breasts were clearly visible beneath the thin fabric and debated whether or not to put on a bra then promptly decided against it. What the hell, she thought. Even Karen had once told her, if you’ve got it, flaunt it, and she was in just the right kind of mood tonight to do just that.
She was not sure why she felt so lousy all of a sudden, but she did. Maybe it was because Amy was going out of her first real date with a boy tonight and it seemed like only yesterday that she was reading her bedtime stories until she drifted off to sleep. Or maybe it was the fact that Sam was now going out with a woman half his age and it bothered her now just as much as it had the first time she’d caught him red handed screwing around with the bitch. Whatever the case, the feeling was there and the cold reality of her age was beginning to catch up with her. Here she was, nearly 40 years old, divorced, and getting older and less attractive by the day. It wouldn’t be long before she’d lose her figure and no longer be desirable to men. She had never really given it much thought until now, and the reason for that was simple. Until now she had been married and hadn’t had to give a big shit about how she looked to other men.
Ann looked herself over again decided that Jerry would most likely approve of her attire. In fact, his eyes would probably pop out of their sockets when he saw her, she mused. And the funny thing was that she didn’t care if he gawked at her tonight-she was tired of dressing conservatively all of the time just because she was afraid Jerry might get all worked up and start putting the moves on her. Karen was right-she really was being sort of a prude. She had the post divorce jitters and the more she thought about it, the more she realized that Karen had probably been right about something else. If she kept stalling and putting things off for too long, she might well let Jerry Rankin slip right through her fingers.
His suggestion to go bowling tonight had thrown Ann for a loop but she had to admit she was looking forward to it. She still fell a little apprehensive about his being here to see Amy and her date off to the dance, though. When she had informed Amy that Jerry would be here at the house before her date arrived, the expression on her face had told Ann that her daughter wasn’t too crazy about the idea at all. But surprise of surprises-she hadn’t objected. Ann realized that this was probably because Amy was excited about the dance and hadn’t wanted to put a damper on anything by getting into an argument with her mother.
Ann checked the time-it was almost 6:30. Jerry would be here any minute. She knew that Amy was still in the bathroom and wondered if she realized how late it was getting. She decided to go downstairs to let her know.
Just as Ann turned around and started for the door, she heard a scuffle and voices out in the backyard. She ran over to the bedroom window and peered down. It was too dark to see anything because she hadn’t yet turned on the backyard lights. Then she realized that she had indeed turned on the lights. She had done it just after getting off the phone from Sam. So why were they off now?