Once More With Feeling by Emilie Richards Read Free Book Online

got a thrill
from the luxuries that were now hers to enjoy. The limo was larger
than her first New York efficiency. And she had shared that with a
man until she found a job sorting mail at NBC. She wasn't a hooker,
despite the opinion of the right-wingers who regularly bombarded
the show with mail. She was merely a woman who knew what she had to
trade, and traded it wisely.
    The landscape outside the tinted windows
grew less jumbled as they neared the Suffolk County border. Now
there were occasional glimpses of fields and woods. To one side of
the expressway they passed a shopping mall that sprawled like a
small city.
    Gypsy wished there had been a spectacular
shoot-out in the food court or a celebrity kidnapping at Macy's or
IKEA so that the mall could have been her destination. Lecturing to
a crowd of graduate students and professors sounded as dull as the
missionary position, but it shored up her image as a serious
television journalist. The studio had prepared a talk for her that
made The Whole Truth sound like the last bastion against the
erosion of free speech.
    The limo slowed, although there didn't seem
to be a tie-up in traffic. The glass slid away once more. "Miss
Dugan, I need you to put your head down."
    "What?"
    "Head down. Now."
    She obeyed, falling limply across the
leather seat like a wounded bird. "What's going on?"
    Randy didn't answer. The limo gathered speed
again. There was nothing better to hold on to, so she gripped the
edge of the seat and dug her fingernails into the soft leather. She
was wearing a conservative--albeit short--linen suit, and she
pictured what it would look like when she sat up again. She was
about to meet her public looking like Peter Falk in an old Columbo .
    "What in the hell's going on?" she
screamed.
    "Someone's following us."
    "Oh." She didn't know what else to say. Then
the absurdity hit her. "Randy, you jackass, we're on the Long
Island Expressway! Of course somebody's following us!"
    He didn't answer, a skill he had polished to
perfection.
    The limo lurched to one side, then the
other. He was driving like a maniac. Maybe he was a maniac. For all
she knew, the sexiest bodyguard among a choice selection of big
hulking men could be Charlie Manson's first cousin. Nobody at the
studio took her fears seriously. Desmond probably hadn't even
checked out the security service he had hired.
    She rolled from side to side until her grip
on the seat was no longer a match for Randy's driving. She made a
spectacular three-point landing on the floor and slammed her head
against the well-stocked bar. She sprawled there gracelessly and
passed the time with a recital of four-letter words.
    The limo gradually slowed, then it stopped
its frantic weaving. Gypsy's heart was thundering so fast that for
moments it was just one long beat. Finally, she found the strength
to sit up, although not to climb back up on the seat. "Well?"
    "I guess I was wrong."
    "You were wrong?"
    "They turned off."
    She was shaking so hard she was forced to
stay where she was. "Just like that? They turned off?"
    "I'm sorry, ma'am. I'm really sorry. Look,
I'll pull off so you can have a chance to pull yourself
together."
    "No!" She struggled to push herself up to
the seat and finally succeeded. "Don't you dare stop this thing.
You take me right to the university, and you park this monstrosity
where everybody can see us. Do you understand?"
    "I really thought we were being followed.
There was a dark car with two big guys in the front. Every time I
switched lanes, they did, too. I sped up, so did they. I couldn't
take any chances."
    "I've got a lump on my head bigger than your
IQ, you little prick! And a suit that looks like I had sex in it!"
She looked down at the damage. "And a run in my hose!"
    He didn't answer, which was wise. She took
care of the hose by stripping them off. She carried a spare in her
briefcase, and she managed to wriggle into them as Randy took an
exit ramp. Her mirror showed no sign of a lump on her