LITMIR.BIZ

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to maintain an image of being hip, modern, and fun.”

      Mr. Frank opened an attaché case and handed Mia a small paper bag. “Take what is inside the bag and put it in your purse,” he ordered.

      Mia pulled a plastic baggie out and saw that it contained numerous small folds of paper. “Cocaine?” she asked.

      Mr. Frank nodded. “Twenty-eight grams.”

      Mia saw that there was a second baggie and glanced at Mr. Frank.

      “Take it as well,” he ordered.

      “That’s a lot for me to be carrying!” exclaimed Mia. “Don’t you think it is a mistake to —”

      “I don’t make mistakes,” said Mr. Frank, arrogantly.

      “But —”

      “Relax. Do you think the benefactor would send a fool to look after you?”

      “No, of course not. It’s just —”

      “It’s not like we can see each other often. Besides, who knows who else will attend the party. There may be someone worthy of attention.”

      “What’s in it?” asked Mia, reaching for the next baggie.

      “Ecstasy,” said Mr. Frank.

      “They have never used that before,” said Mia.

      “Maybe they should. For some, I hear it promotes sexual stimulation while removing inhibition.”

      “I don’t know if they will take it, but I’ll see,” said Mia, putting the drugs in her purse.

      “Then don’t ask them,” said Mr. Frank firmly. “See that they get it. Tonight will be the ideal time. When the guests leave, give Mr. Rolstad the birthday present you know he longs for.”

      “I still don’t feel it is necessary,” said Mia. “We have the computers to —”

      Mr. Frank gave a loud clap of his hands in front of Mia’s face and she jerked back. “We have been over this before!”

      Mia swallowed, then nodded quietly.

      The anger disappeared from Mr. Frank’s face and he patted her knee. “You know they will confide in you more about their client’s behaviour if they indulge in similar behaviour with you. Things that are not written in any of their internal reports. Do not tell me it is not a wise move. You may have your master’s in psychology, but are you going to sit there and tell me you are more knowledgeable than the benefactor?”

      “No, of course not,” replied Mia, shaking her head. “But there is the trust issue. Like I said, it could cause guilt and —”

      She felt both his knees touch hers as he leaned in close to her face. “Is building trust the real reason for the delay, or could it be something else?” he asked.

      “Such as?” questioned Mia, forcing herself to remain erect and not cower back.

      “Your own embarrassment of having to play such a role.”

      Mia stared back, then sighed and looked away. “Yes, I admit that to perform such a role causes me anguish. I know sex or love are important tools, but I’ve never used either before for such a purpose.”

      “You have been trained on ways to facilitate such action.”

      “Being told what I should do and actually doing it are two different things.”

      Mr. Frank nodded, appearing sympathetic. “When the moment comes, put your mind elsewhere. Close your eyes and pretend you are with your boyfriend.”

      “I do not have a boyfriend.” Mia said with a shrug.

      “Oh? What about Pat Harris? The benefactor tells me you’ve been seeing him regularly.”

      “Pat Harris! Are you kidding me? He’s only a friend I’m helping tutor.” Mia stared at Mr. Frank and tried not to let sarcasm enter her voice. “Perhaps you should let the benefactor know he is gay.”

      “I see.”

      She felt bitter when she realized the benefactor knew that she had been seeing someone. Am I being watched at university? They wouldn’t waste an asset for that. It could even risk exposing me. Then it struck her. I’ve been contacting Harris with my laptop …

      Mr. Frank interrupted her thoughts. “The point is, you’ve had boyfriends that you were intimate with. In your mind, pick one of them.”

      Mia folded her arms across her chest and stared at the bright-red nail polish on her toes.

      Mr. Frank shook his head. “You need to learn to relax. I know it is difficult for you.” He glanced at his watch and said, “There is plenty of time before the party starts. Sit for a moment.”

      Mia waited as Mr. Frank went to the washroom. She heard the sound of ice in the sink, and when he returned he had a glass of wine in each hand.

      “It’s early yet,” protested Mia. “I have to be alert for tonight.”

      “Drink it,” ordered Mr. Frank. “One glass will help you relax. As nervous as you appear, they would suspect something is wrong.”

      Mia nodded and accepted the glass with both hands. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Up until today her role for the benefactor had seemed exciting and glamorous. It was like being in a movie. What she was being told to do now was different. Far from glamorous … it is deceitful and dirty … but apparently necessary …

      Mr. Frank smiled as he raised his glass in a toast. Time to see what effect ecstasy has on you …

      Chapter Two

      Nancy Brighton sat in her overstuffed leather chair looking out the front window of her house while petting her dog on her lap. She paused to massage an ache in her leg that was the result of recent surgery for a knee replacement. Except for her knee, she felt spry and in good shape. Or as good of shape as could be expected for someone who was seventy-five years old.

      “Toby! Hush!” ordered Nancy, as her terrier let out a few yips when her phone rang. She leaned over to the end table. The call display told her it was Betty.

      “Hey, little sister, where are you?” asked Nancy, as she cradled the phone to her face with her shoulder while adjusting Toby on her lap.

      “No room on your street, so I’m parking in the grocery store lot. Be at your place in five minutes. Are you sure you don’t need anything? I always feel guilty using their lot if I don’t buy something.”

      “How about two cans of tonic and a lime? I’ll pour you a stiff one when you arrive.”

      “Make me a stiff one? Don’t get me started.”

      Nancy grinned as she hung up. Minutes later, she saw Betty walking up the sidewalk carrying a plastic bag. She eyed Toby and said, “Toby, we have company. Front door, boy! Front door!”

      Toby immediately started barking, then leaped from her lap and ran to the front door. Nancy glanced at her cane, then decided against it and hobbled to the front door and opened it. Toby immediately ran out to greet Betty, who had turned up the stone pathway that cut across the front lawn to her house. The pathway was bordered on both sides by rhododendrons and Toby ran circles around one of them as he enjoyed his freedom.

      “Toby! Come back here!” demanded Nancy.

      After leaving the rhododendrons and doing a couple more circles around Betty, Toby obediently obeyed.

      “Hey there, sis, good to see you,” said Nancy.

      “You, too,” replied Betty, giving her sister a hug, before glancing back at the stone path. “More blooms are out on your rhodos. They look beautiful.”

      “Yes,” replied Nancy, wistfully. “Wish Burt were still here to see them.”

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