Her Very Strict Captain, Carpenter, Maggie [top 50 books to read TXT] 📗

you?” Sonny asked, marching to the side of the bed and looming over him.

“Hi, boss,” Ewen replied, groaning as he sat up. “Better, I guess. Do you need me for something?”

“I will tomorrow night, but you’ll have to get some decent clothes. I’ll send someone to your apartment.”

“Tomorrow night?” Ewen repeated. “You mean you want me at the party?”

“That’s right, but you’ll be a VIP in my private quarters. You’ve earned it, and in your condition you’ll be a chick magnet, especially when you open your mouth and that Aussie accent comes out. They’ll fight over who will take you home to tend to your wounds.”

“As wonderful as Rosemary is, I wouldn’t say no,” Ewen said with the hint of a grin.

“I could happen. Evelyn Poole will be there.”

“The supermodel?”

“She just broke up with a guitar player who’s pretty rough around the edges. You might be her type. Samantha Winthrop, that British actress who won the Oscar last year, she’ll be around as well. You need to be well dressed. Make a list and give it to Rosemary. Where are your keys?”

“On that chest of drawers by the window,” Ewen replied, pointing across the room. “Um, boss, she’s been giving me aspirin, but it doesn’t do much. If I’m going to be hobnobbing I’d like something stronger. Do you have anything by chance?”

Sonny laughed.

“Ewen, you know I’ve got a fucking drugstore. What’s your pleasure?”

“Codeine, I guess.”

“I’ll make sure you get some.”

“Thanks. I’m looking forward to this shindig.”

“So am I, Ewen,” Sonny said with a grin, then grabbing the keys, he turned on his heel and marched through the door.

* * *

Scott was speaking with Frank when he received an incoming call marked urgent from his IT specialist. Scott knew Brad Trentham wasn’t given to exaggeration. If the studious young genius thought something was urgent, it was.

“Frank, I have Brad on the other line,” Scott said hastily. “Sounds important.”

“Conference me in.”

“Will do, and I’m putting you on speaker,” Scott replied, wanting Elizabeth to be privy to the conversation. “Hey, Brad, what’s up. Frank’s on the line with us.”

“That pen we gave Ewen MacDonald might finally be paying off. I just overheard an interesting conversation with Conchello. He invited Ewen to join the VIP group in his private quarters at the party tomorrow night.”

“Interesting,” Scott muttered.

“Yeah, I thought so too. Conchello told Ewen to make a list of the clothes he’ll need. Someone will be going to his apartment to pick them up.”

“Thanks, Brad. Get some equipment in Brad’s place right away. People can let things slip in idle conversation.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hey, Frank,” Scott continued as Brad left the line, “this is a gift. We have to get those wads of money to Ewen and find a way for him to smuggle them into that VIP area.”

“I agree. I’ll start tossing ideas around here. Let me know if you come up with anything.”

“Will do.”

“That’s overly ambitious,” Elizabeth remarked as Scott ended the call. “How can you possibly get the money, the tracker, and your listening device to Ewen? Even if you can, he’ll never be able to get it up to the mezzanine.”

“He’s injured, and that might work in our favor,” Scott said thoughtfully. “His chest is bandaged… yes!” he suddenly exclaimed. “I know exactly how to do it, but I have to move fast. Elizabeth, you need to pray. If I can speak to Ewen before he makes that list and gives it to someone, we’re in business.”

* * *

Studying his reflection in the mirror, Dan Miller felt a wave of emotion. Staring back at him was the man he used to be. His short, sandy blond hair was parted on the side, and fell in perfect layers behind his ears to the nape of his neck. The dark brown, irritating contact lenses were gone, and the soft bangs floating across the top of his newly shaped eyebrows highlighted his green eyes. Without his mustache his sculptured features and full lips were prominent. Dan Miller was history. He looked nothing like him.

“You’re a heartthrob,” Roxy exclaimed with a happy grin. “I’ve seen transformations before, but this one’s a doozy.”

Dan smiled, then let out a grateful, satisfied sigh.

“Thanks, Roxy, this is exactly what I had in mind,” he declared, digging into his pocket and pulling out three one-hundred dollar bills. “Here, you’ve earned every penny.”

“Thanks a bunch, Danny,” she replied, then tilting her head to the side, she murmured, “Would you be interested in joining this tired hairdresser for a drink to celebrate your new look?”

“Sure would, though I want to pick up some new clothes first. Is there a men’s store nearby that will still be open? You’re welcome to join me if you want. I could use a woman’s opinion.”

“Yes and yes,” she replied enthusiastically.

Leaving the salon and walking only a few doors down, they entered a trendy men’s boutique. Though Dan kept a poker face, he noticed a couple of young women shoot him admiring glances. His ego soared. It had been a long time since girls had given him a second look.

With the help of an eager salesman and Roxy’s suggestions, Dan left no longer a crumpled mess carrying a canvas tote, but a sharply dressed, well-heeled man with a leather satchel in his hand.

Transferring the gun, cash, and phone into the expensive bag in the dressing room had been the only nerve-racking moment. The salesclerk had poked his head in just as Dan was moving the revolver. He was only saved because he’d wrapped it in his old T-shirt.

Feeling better than he had in months, he suggested dinner at an upscale restaurant. Enjoying a delicious meal accompanied by a bottle of chardonnay, he found himself genuinely drawn to the bubbly beautician, and Roxy didn’t hold back. Reaching across the table and taking his hand, she made no bones about her attraction to him. As they left the eatery and ambled down the street, she looped her arm through his.

“Would you like to come back