Sarah had been reading the personal ads for some time. She found them to be a source of entertainment until she saw one small ad that contained one sentence and a phone number.
Looking for a woman who is not afraid to take risks in order to be a real woman. Call 555-1212.
She smiled to herself and thought, "Well, it couldn't hurt to call it." And she slowly dialed the number. She laughed when the answering machine picked up and requested her number. Sarah just hung up, her courage suddenly gone. There was something about the man's voice on the other end.
Two weeks later, the ad and the phone call long forgotten; Sarah picked up the phone as it rang one evening. "Hello," she said in her husky voice.
"Hello. You phoned me two weeks ago concerning the ad I placed in The Personals."
"Er, ah, yes I did. But ... I didn't leave a message."
He laughed. "Well, thank goodness for caller ID, my sweet."
Sarah had to laugh. "I forget about that. Well, so yes I guess I did phone in response to your ad."
"Well, Sarah. Are you ready to take risks?" he asked, his voice suddenly serious.
"Perhaps we could meet for drinks and find out," Sarah said, suddenly brave for once in her life.
"Perhaps," he said. "But to be honest, I would prefer a setting a bit more intimate and quiet than a bar. Will you take the first risk and come out to my house?"
Sarah sat quiet, biting her lip. There was something almost hypnotic about his voice. "Yes, I will," she said. "You name the day and time and give me directions and I will be there."
"I will send a car for you on Friday evening. Be ready at 7 pm. I do not like tardiness."
"I will be ready." Then the phone went dead. Sarah suddenly realized that he already knew her name and she had not asked for his. She picked up the phone and dialed *69 to get the number of the last call. It was unpublished. She swallowed, wondering what she had gotten herself into.
He placed the phone back on the desk and picked up the sheets of paper in front of him. There was a picture of Sarah coming from work, laughing at someone's joke. She was very pretty with a lovely body. He read the information gathered on her by his private detective. She was divorced, her family lived away, and she kept to herself. He liked that. No baggage. Her voice was quite melodic. She would do nicely. He flicked on his computer and started typing out her description and information to one of his clients. It was later in the evening when he got the phone call. He faxed her picture as he spoke with his client. He laughed and agreed, she had potential.
Friday evening came all too soon for Sarah. She debated against going or not going or telling someone or not telling someone what she was doing. She was terrified she was taking too great a risk, but she had been such a coward about meeting new men since her divorce. It was time to do something, even if it turned out to be wrong. She heard the car pull up in front of her building. She picked up her purse and walked out the door.
The driver said nothing to her as he opened the door for her. She slid across the cool leather seats as he closed the door behind her. She shivered, almost changing her mind, but the car pulled away.
Chapter 2
It took thirty minutes to get to the house. Although, one couldn't really call it a house, it was actually an old restored plantation nestled out in the woods, far away from the city. As the car stopped in front, Sarah admired it. It was very lovely. The driver opened the door and took Sarah's hand to help her out. She gracefully exited the car.
Sarah didn't realize she was being watched. He approved of how she moved. He reached over and flicked the switch to the cameras in the parlor and started them filming her as she entered the house.
She stood there admiring all the period furniture as he entered the room. "So, my dear, do you like my little home?"
Sarah turned and looked at him. She smiled in relief. He did not look like a serial killer or an ogre.
He laughed, "What were you expecting, my dear?"
"I don't know. I almost changed my mind. I realized that you knew who I was, no doubt from the caller ID, but I have no clue as to your identity."
"Well, let me remedy that now. Sarah, I am Thomas Smythe, attorney at law." He held out his hand.
She grasped his hand. "It is very nice to meet you Thomas. Or do people call you Tom?"
"Thomas or the servants call me Master Thomas. My father owned this place before me and many of those working here have been here for generations. Actually, a few of them have roots here as slaves before the War."
"How interesting," Sarah said.
"Would you care for a drink, my dear? Perhaps some wine? I have some that I had brought over from France after my last visit there."
"Wine would be wonderful."
He poured her glass from the decanter. "It has a bit of a bitter taste at first, but it will mellow in your glass if you keep sipping it."
She smiled. "Thank you," as she took the glass from him and swallowed. She made a little face. "You are right."
"Try a bit more, you will find it grows quite lovely to the tastebuds." He turned and poured himself a short whiskey.
Sarah sipped again. The wine was not bitter this time. "You were right," she smiled. "It's quite good now."
"Please have a seat Sarah." He waved towards the settee. "We should start getting acquainted."
Sarah sat, holding her glass of wine carefully. She sipped more, her tongue licking the droplets from her lips.
