Home > culture, life, religion, romance, seduction, sex, vigilante > Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 18)

Lured Into A Secretive Squad (continued 18)

I couldn’t resist the fragrance of the pastrami sandwiches that Naomi Cheslow had brought to my apartment. Before she was done taking the deli out of her tote bag, the table was covered with thick, juicy sandwiches, sour dill pickles, coleslaw and French fries. I didn’t believe she was there to ‘court’ me as she’d said, and I wanted to know what her true motivation was.

“There are several reasons why I’m here,” she said. “There are other places I could go right now, and I chose here because I want to know you better.”

“And your other reasons?” said I.

“I want you to stay in N3 for one thing.”

“Why am I not surprised? But why me?” I said. “I’m not a shoot-em-up kind of guy. I’m a sitting in a field with an easel and pallet kind of guy.”

“Because we need an intellectual,” she said. “The people we have now are great in the field, as witnessed when we blew the barn, but we need someone to record and disseminate our tragedies and our efforts.” This was a direction I never would have imagined. In truth, I thought it was a great idea, and I was eager to do it.

“Who would I answer to?” I said.

“Well… nobody, really,” she said. “I’m sure you wouldn’t object to Aileen and I proofreading and fact checking.”

“You’re sure of that, are you?” I said.

“Let’s move on to my final reason for being here, remembering that it was a choice I made from among several friends,” she said.

“I got that message,” I said. “What’s your final reason?”

“The Aryans have put a contract out on me – twenty-five thousand bucks for my head on a platter. My informant tells me that because I shot the tracer into the gas puddle, they’ve chosen me as their number one target. It seems it really pissed them off when I destroyed leader’s bike and singed the hair off a number of the boys. Although we destroyed their whole building and millions of dollars in its contents, the fact that I melted leader’s bike is heavier, to them. Are they assholes or are they not, I ask you?”

“So you want to hide out here?” I said

“Yes, please,” she said. It was a peculiar position in which I found myself. Naomi Cheslow was unique. She had an extremely beautiful face that was surrounded by coils of ebony black, smooth, shining hair. Her complexion was ruddy, with the healthy, outdoor look of a sailor. Her physique, what I could see of it, was toned to the point of having a flat belly, solid arms and firm breasts that shimmied when she moved.

“I’m a good cook,” she said, “and I’ll clean and do laundry and dishes and all that.”

“Wait a minute,” I said, “how long do you expect this visit to last?”

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll pay. I’m rich, you know. Ask anybody.” I had to admit that I was attracted to more than just her six-foot-two pillar of pulchritudinous perfection. Her flippant way of saying bold things like, ‘I’m rich you know. Ask anybody.’

I didn’t know if she was rich or not. Nor did I care.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” she said, patting the sofa upon which she was sitting.

“No need,” I said. “I have a guest bedroom that you can have for a while.”

“Wonderful!” she said. “I could use a shower. May I?”

“Come down the hall, I’ll show you your room. You have your own full bathroom en suite. You’ll find towels in the cabinet and a robe on the back of the door. There is also soap, toothpaste and a new toothbrush in there.”

“My goodness,” she said. “Do you have a lot of unexpected overnight guests?”

“Usually, I expect them,” I said. “You, on the other hand, are totally unexpected. I’d offer you some of my pyjamas but I doubt you could get into them.”

“I don’t like to wear pajamas anyway,” she said “Thank you for your kindness.”

“Here’s your room. I hope you’re comfortable. I’ll see you in the morning,” I said.

“Where’s your room?” she said. I pointed to the door at the opposite end of the hall.

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