We both cackle as we walk upstairs to fuck.
Chapter 4 — Combined Forces
Connie’s point of view:
It’s Wednesday, and still no word about my son. I am a nervous wreck; I can’t stop crying. I hear a new message on my phone. An update! My hands are trembling; it takes three attempts to unlock my phone. I check, and it’s an appointment for 7:00 PM at Tony’s Steak House. The only text is, “I can help.” I press “accept.” Because it came as a calendar invitation, I don’t know how to trace the number.
It’s a fantastic restaurant, in public, during peak hours. I will be there. Do I bring anyone? Spencer? No, they want to help. I don’t want to scare them off. Finally! Progress.
+++++
6:40 PM, Tony’s Steakhouse
My driver dropped me off at the front door.
The doorman from Tony’s helps me out, “Good evening, Miss Shoemaker. Welcome back.”
The ambiance feels like a small social gathering at home. There’s a steady noise from the various conversations going on, and I don’t say anything. The sweet young hostess takes me by my hand and leads me to a table with another woman my age. I see her back; she is dressed well.
She’s in two-year-old Prada while I have this year’s design. Her jewelry screams wealth, as does mine. I am seated in front of this worried-looking woman, who has a problem as big as mine. We are interrupted by Tony, the owner.
We both say, “Good evening, Tony,” simultaneously. Damn, that sounded sexy as hell. Tony must pause and collect himself. Together, we giggle.
In his Italian New York mix of English, Tony says, “Miss Shoemaker, it’s my pleasure to introduce you to Sophia Simmons. Together, the two of you could buy half of New York. I know why you’re both here. Tonight, dinner is on me. I have something special for both of you. I will give you a few minutes to talk, then your first course will arrive. I see your drinks coming now. I will be back later.”
A glass of outstanding wine is served, better than I typically purchase.
Before we speak, Sophia reaches into her purse, pulls out a cell phone and wallet, then places them on the table in front of me. They are my son’s phone and wallet. The wallet is a ten-year-old Christmas present from me. He still uses it. I bust out in tears. I quickly grab the items and bring them to my chest, where I hold them close to me. I can still smell him.
I am never asked a question; Sophia just starts talking, “My daughter is a nymphomaniac. She uses a sex club to ease her needs. Six months ago, she started dating your son. Hell, every woman wants your son.” I smile at that. It’s true. “She stopped going to the club. My hopes were high. She was in love. I thought she finally found a man to tame her. After four months, she started up at the club again. Saturday, she takes your son there. He left early; it seems he wanted no part of that.
“Monday, we open up my daughter’s apartment and find her passed out and almost everything broken in the living room. They took her club membership back and blackballed her. We don’t believe your son did anything; this was all my daughter. I know this because there isn’t a bruise on her body. If he was mad, she would be dead.”
She takes a deep breath, and tears are running down her cheeks, as is mine, “My daughter is in a drug educed coma to prevent her from harming herself. It’s also helping her survive the sexual withdrawal she was going through. Your son’s knowledge will help the doctors. He’s also the only one that has ever lasted with her; I am positive my daughter loves him. However, he doesn’t want to be found. A kid that big sticks out. He has people hiding him, or he is in a forest. How much do you know about your son?”
Wow, that’s quite the question.
She can see my alarm, “What I meant to ask is, what do you know about his military years?”
Relieved, I replied, “Nothing. He absolutely refuses to talk about it. All I know is something bad happened and it haunts him to this day.”
Sophia uses a knowing smile, “In the first weeks they dated, he got drunk; she was the designated driver. Your son is so decent; he made sure only one of them drank, or they took an Uber home. He led a crack team of Navy Seals that did all kinds of wild shit worldwide. He would NOT discuss the actual missions or people. Nothing cracks his security, even drunk.
“He did explain every gunshot or minor injury. That boy should have died three times. A lesser man may have. It seems things slowdown in the battle for him, and he is as deadly a man as there is in the world. He is a trained commando that can live off the land for months. He can kill with his hands or weapons. They call him The Beast. Then a mission called “Tidal wave” happened. He saved his men and the mission, but two of his men died. It broke him. One of the men was his best friend; his wife was pregnant.
“She works for me now. Easy work, flexible hours, and tremendous pay. She’s an incredible woman. He couldn’t lead men anymore. That was his last mission, and he didn’t re-enlist when it came time again. I met him twice. I could instantly tell he was incredible. Hell, I want him for myself. So, now to the grit. Why are we here?”
As much as I love hearing about my son, YES! Finally! WHY ARE WE HERE!
Sophia is less confident now, “I think your son is the most decent man I have ever met. I think he loves my daughter. I think she loves him. If anyone can save my daughter, it’s your son. I will do anything for my daughter. You understand this; you want your son back. Therefore, I want to leave here with two things. Number one, I want to help you find your son.”
What the hell. Why does she care?
Sophia continues, “He can’t help my daughter if he kills himself or lives in a forest. I want him safe and back with you. Second, I want us to get them back together. Yeah, yeah, I see the alarm in your eyes. It will take time. Probably a long time. But I saw them three months in. I was convinced they were getting married. They both are good for each other. You will see it once he’s back. No woman will satisfy him like Vickie did.”
Sophia pauses for a second, waits for me to finish drinking my wine, then uses a shallow voice that makes me lean closer to hear her, “Just in case you didn’t know, your son is hung well enough to make a porn star blush. My daughter has seen hundreds if not thousands of men. She has never seen it’s equal or the way he uses it. He is a master. I must admit, I would try him out myself. No way he touches an old hag like me, not when he has Vickie. But ohhh, that would satisfy me for life.”
After a lovely salmon and petite steak dinner, we continue talking.
I start the conversation, “I rented a facility to make a commercial, asking for information on my son. There will be a reward for any information.”
Without hesitation, Sophia says, “I will triple it. I don’t care how much.”
My eyes are tearing. I already allocated two hundred million to start with. I want to reward all helpful information. Even sightings will get paid some. Leading to his finding that will get the grand prize.
Sophia asks me, “How do you plan to get him home?”