CHAPTER 1
It was Friday evening and to be expected the bar was crowded. Two blondes with the strained look that childless women appear to inherit from their divorce, eyed the unshaven guy in blue, noting a soft smile, curly dark hair and green oh so green eyes.
They whispered, looking at him. Brent thought of winking at them but that could be misinterpreted. His firm rule was to never pick up a woman in a bar. Before he made his pitch he preferred to know the woman's name, a little of her background and if possible to have her recommended to him. That took care of basic screening, although sometimes he'd found himself landed with a neurotic female or one who cried too easily or drank excessively or who'd lied she liked sex. Still even then he was better off than careless guys who married such women to remain with their folly.
Those two dyed blondes in overly-tight bras has cheered him, reminding him that some women still found him interesting enough to look at him speculatively, perhaps wondering what they were missing. Anna, his woman friend of four months, had just dumped him so Brent was feeling a little down. When about to leave he asked the server what the two blondes were drinking and ordered two drinks and paid the bartender. He left without knowing if the bartender would pocket the money or the arrival of the drinks would surprise the women, erasing if only momentarily some of the light despair from their faces.
Brent, who was thirty-four, had just arrived in the city, having moved on because he'd not wished to bump into Anna again. He'd come close to wondering whether she was the one when she'd confessed she'd met someone else and must severe ties with Brent. Christ the guy was her boss and married.
The IT consultant signed into a smart-looking rooming house for a week. That would give him time to look around to determine whether Highbanks City appeared right for him to drop anchor. He was cashed up pretty well so didn't have to find work in a hurry.
Meg Struthers looked at the signature on the guest register.
"Thank you Mr Bayer but you have not put down a forwarding address."
"That's because the only address I have right now is these premises."
Meg said he must have a base or next of kin but Brent just stood and said nothing and she gave up and said did he want a room or a mini-suite.
"You mean a room with toilet and shower?"
"Yes but no cooking facilities of course."
"Right, a mini-suite with a gorgeous view."
Meg laughed and said he had to be joking. The only views available were of other buildings.
"What about a view across the street?"
"Those are premium mini-suites."
"Then one of those if one is available please."
"Very well," Meg said.
The extra charge over a standard brick wall view was only thirty bucks a night and Brent thought that was good value.
Meg took Brent to his room and facing the street said Mrs Locke was on the left and Mr Cousins was on the other side. "Mr Cousins is a visiting IRS inspector, a very important man."
"Oh yeah. And Mrs Locke?"
"She is having a trial separation from her husband who is an Assistant District Attorney. I think he should have vacated the house, not her don't you think? Mrs Locke is such a lovely woman and came from an excellent family. He husband went to some third-rate law school and had to work at nights because his family couldn't afford all the fees."
"So that makes Mrs Locke coming from a better family a more superior person?"
"Oh did I give that impression?"
Brent grinned to avoid Mrs Struthers taking exception at his cutting comment.
At 7:00 Brent left his room to go out to dinner when the door on his right opened and out came an attractive woman who looked in her mid-thirties.
"Good evening," Brent smiled.
She replied stiffly, "Good evening."
"May I take you to dinner?"
"What?"
"Oh please excuse me. I'm Brent Bayer, newly arrived. I thought you appeared to be on your own and might like to be taken to dinner?"
"I really don't think..."
"I wish to talk to someone about this city; I know nothing about it.."
Mrs Locke patted her chest for some reason, drawing Brent's attention to her physical attributes. He'd noticed both of them as soon as he'd seen her a minute earlier.
"Well I don't know you."
"That puts us on a par, doesn't it?"
"Well yes, you certainly don't know me and this could change your mind; I'm a married woman."
"Oh excellent. That means I'm safe from molestation."
He grinned and she saw his expression and said, "Well you are a breath of fresh air."
They sat at the bar and exchanged personal details. She said she was thirty.
Instead of saying liar, Brent said he'd thought she looked younger than that.
"Oh did I say thirty? My mistake. I turn thirty-six late in the year."
"God even so you hold your age well. You face is unlined apart from crow's feet and your breasts look deliciously shaped and supple."
Mrs Locke attempted unsuccessfully to hide her panic and that made Brent think it was timely to strike.
"After we finish here shall we have a nightcap in my room?"
"I better leave."
"Wait, there's no rush. You haven't even told me your first name."
"Priscilla."
"Oh great name. I did introduce myself as Brent but you haven't used it yet. Would you like another cocktail?"
Priscilla looked at the doorway and then back to Brent and caught his charming seductive smile, although she might have thought it was just a nice smile.
"Er yes, I'd like that thank you Brent."
Two hours later Priscilla lay on Brent's bed watching him undo her front-buttoned dress.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
He smiled reassuringly and said it was because they probably had a kindred spirit and accepted they had been drawn together.
"Those are lovely words."
"Do you have a lovely cunt Priscilla?"
