Excerpt -- Shining Armor, Book 1, The Knight Appears © 12-20-02 Steven G. O'Dell

It was the last straw for Denise Payton. She had to talk to someone and get things sorted out in her mind. She sat in the booth of the diner, waiting for her dearest friend and former college roommate, Barbara Dillon. Barb was always there when she was needed; always dependable, always a friend. Truth be known, Barbara was the sister that Denise had never had. Denise jumped suddenly as Barb slid into the booth across from her. "Scared you, didn't I?", Barb grinned mischievously.

"Yeah, you did." Her whole countenance bespoke depression, though she bravely tried to smile.

"Okay, girl, tell me what's got you so bummed out. I know you too well. You can't hide it from me, you know."

"Let me tell you, Barbara, I'm tired of all the games, all the'�the'�'� She looked frustrated, waving her upturned hands in the air and pausing momentarily to catch her breath and gather the right words, which she nearly spat in her frustration. 'the'�waiting for the other shoe to drop, the trying to walk on eggshells without breaking them. Frankly, I'm scared of Ted. He's far more possessive than he used to be and much more aggressive lately. He acts as if he owns me and thinks I'm cheating on him if I so much as talk to a telemarketer." She suddenly turned her head downward and sat looking dejectedly at the table, gazing into her coffee and sighing aloud.

"Come on Denise, it can't be that bad. Surely you're exaggerating." Even as she spoke the words, Barbara didn't look convinced. She knew Denise would never lie to her, but she hoped this was just a gross exaggeration due to some temporary annoyance.

"Oh, really? You wouldn't believe how much he has changed.'� She leaned forward and tapped a finger on the table between them for emphasis and asked, 'When is the last time I saw you?"

"Um... seven, maybe eight weeks ago?'� She seemed somewhat surprised as she now considered this, but continued, feeling mounting discomfort at the answer to her next simple question. 'Why do you ask?'�

"We used to see each other at least once a week, even after you got married, right? That tapered off soon after Ted and I got together, and has dropped to almost nothing lately.'� She paused briefly and looked her friend directly in the eye with a combination of pleading and intense force, as though attempting to transfer to Barb her very emotional state. 'Do you know that he watches my every move? I feel like a prisoner, Barb."

"Denise, I just thought you were really busy'�I didn't know'�.'� Barb hesitated a moment, the true meaning having now begun to sink in. 'I have missed you, you know."

"He never leaves me alone for a minute. Whenever he goes to make sales or have meetings, he insists I go along. At first, it was flattering, but I can't even get on a plane to visit my own mother without him accusing me of trying to meet someone secretly--he really thinks I'm cheating on him. I had to sneak out to see you! Some days I hate my life, Barb'�maybe I even hate men...." These last words were spoken more quietly and resignedly than the others. It was obvious that she felt genuine pain over this. Again she stared into her cup despondently.

"Denise, I'm so sorry. I really had no idea", her hands reached compassionately across the diner table to comfort her friend. "Do you need a place to stay? You can come stay with us for as long...." Her eyes had wandered over Denise' shoulder, attracted by movement beyond them and now her words trailed off and stopped. She sat frozen, concern written plainly on her face.

"What is it?" Denise asked and turned in the direction of her friends' gaze.

A look of barely-controlled rage was upon the face of a rapidly advancing Ted. Here was trouble in the flesh and there was no avoiding it. Both of Ted's hands came down hard on the table in front of her as he leaned into her face, causing Denise to involuntarily shrink back and gasp. Barbara, too, pulled away in fear.

"What do you think you are doing?" The words were not really loud, but were spoken through clenched teeth, each seemingly bitten off in the intense anger that was now pervasive. Denise was suddenly aware that she had stopped breathing. Evidently Barbara had, too, for they both noisily sucked in air at the same instant. The sudden in-rush seemed deafeningly loud at the now-silent table.

"I should go..." Barbara started.

"No, wait", Denise begged. Her hand took the wrist of her friend and held fast, her eyes virtually pleading for the rescue she knew could not be delivered.

Ted's hand shot out and grabbed Denise by the arm and his voice was now loud enough for all to hear. "I asked you a question! What are you doing here?" This was followed by a stream of blue invective that shook the diner from one end to the other.

From somewhere deep inside, Denise now summoned the courage to answer confidently and without cowering. "I am visiting a friend. What is wrong with that? You never let me see anyone anymore."

The hand on her arm shot directly to her cheek with a slap that resounded loudly throughout the diner. A cry of pain came from Denise and one of anguish from Barbara. "You are coming with me--now!" Ted left no room for question as he pulled roughly at her wrist to lift her from her seat. "No, please", she begged. As Ted turned to go, he stopped suddenly in his tracks, startled, finding his way was blocked by a tall, slightly graying man.

Quickly recovering, Ted challenged, "And what do you want, old man? You looking for trouble?" He glared at the intruder who dared to stand in his way.
The slightest smile curled the lips of the stranger, who stood calmly and seemingly impervious to the implied threat. He took a deep breath, slowly released it and replied quietly, "I believe there must be a better way to handle this situation. You are frightening these lovely ladies." Cool as if he were studying the ocean for the first time, his eyes never left Ted's for a second.

"Oh, yeah? Who cares what you believe, old man? Get out of my way or get hurt." He spoke in a manner leaving no doubt that he meant it, glaring for a second and waiting for the way to open before him. When it failed to do so, he turned Denise loose and prepared to remove the obstacle himself. He never got the chance, for a hand with outstretched fingers thrust roughly beneath his chin, retracting as swiftly as it had attacked, leaving him choking and holding his throat. He stumbled backward in an attempt to recover. The stranger turned to the women, motioned them to the door and quickly turned his attention again to the menace before him.

"No", Ted croaked through his aching windpipe. "No one is leaving!" With the look of a killer in his now smoldering eyes, he ran with out-stretched arms toward his target. With a speed belying his age and size, the older man sidestepped and aided Ted on his way, directly into the floor ahead of him. The air escaped from him audibly as he struck the tiles firmly in a prone position. Stunned and gasping for air again, he struggled to look behind him, afraid of being attacked from the rear.

The women had without hesitation heeded the advice given them and had retreated outside to await the outcome. "This won't be good. I can feel it", Denise said aloud to herself. She watched alternately the diner and the sidewalk, pacing back and forth, hands first to the sides of her head and then again to her chest--unmistakable signs of her distress. She did not have long to wait for the outcome, but was certainly surprised when it came.

In a moment the stranger came out and walked directly to the anxious women. "Ladies," he said in such a manner that one could almost picture a slight bow and a tip of the hat. "You have a few minutes before he comes out, so you need to decide what you want to do about this.'� He looked directly at Denise with a quiet intensity that stirred her strangely within. 'It's none of my business, of course, but you can do much better." He seemed to be studying her face, as though he had seen her before and was trying to remember where.

She was speechless, looking first at the diner door and then staring at him in stunned silence. She was silent an uncomfortably long time for Barbara, who nudged her back to reality with a gentle elbow. "Oh...thank you for your help. I...uh...." She hesitated clumsily, studying the man's face. He was not an everyday sort of handsome man, but there was a rugged attractiveness to him that appealed to her none-the-less. She was silent once again and the man responded quickly to rescue her from yet another awkward moment.

"You are more than welcome." He extended his hand as though to shake and she automatically responded in kind, but he took her hand in his own and gently placed his other hand over the back of hers in a soft caress that sent tingles throughout her body and made her look directly into his eyes. There was a strong resolve there, mingled with a sadness that he could not hide from her. He also seemed to hesitate for a fraction longer than she would have expected, searching her eyes. It was as though he was trying to recover some long lost occurrence from his past. He continued in a moment, "He's on the floor for the next ten minutes."

She looked concerned and, recognizing this, he quickly allayed her fears. "We have a deal--he stays down for ten minutes and no-one calls the police. I think he will comply, but I suggest that if you have anything at his place, you go get it quickly. Today is a good day for a new beginning." He smiled lightly and this time bowed subtly to them both. "Ladies, have a good day." He turned and walked away nearly before Denise could catch her breath. She started to call after him, but the words remained partially formed and wholly unspoken. Before he got into his car and left, he turned and looked back for a brief moment, pausing to again make eye contact with Denise. That faraway longing and soul searching was there again, plainly seen by both women. The briefest hesitation and he was gone.

"He's right, you know,'� said Barb. "Come on, let's go get your things fast."

"No, whatever I have there he can keep, to remind him of what he lost." She turned away with a firm resolve and walked to her car. The stranger was right. This was a new beginning and she could do better.




Chapter 2

It started out as an ordinary day for Ronald Jameson. It was Saturday, which meant he would walk to the park, take a few brief sprints the length of the playground, which was sizeable, some chin-ups on the climbing bars and whatever else might seem appropriate at the time. The children always watched him closely and with fascination as he did this; the parents, too, hoping he was harmless. Though he hoped they would eventually get used to him, he'd soon decided that earlier in the morning, before the children came to the park, would be a better time for his routine. He would always end with some push-ups, more leg stretches to fully loosen up and end with another run to his apartment, three blocks away. He then showered and spent the rest of the day wondering what to do now that he was alone'with only his memories; painful memories he could not seem to lose.

Sometimes, like a few days earlier, he would go for a walk and end up in a diner or at the riverside, just looking off into space and trying not to remember how much it hurt. It was not easy. Ronald Jameson was a man grieving for the loss of his wife and it pained him more than he liked to have anyone know. For that reason he tended to keep to himself. He simply hurt too much to be good company most of the time. He remembered the young lady that he had assisted at the diner. What was it he had told her? Oh, yes'�'Today is a good day for a new beginning.' That was good advice. He felt convicted by his own words and never being one to turn his back on a truth, he vowed that he would do the same as he had counseled her to do.

There was something about her that had captured his imagination. He could not put his finger on it, but it was very real and puzzled him. Animal attraction maybe? He tried to shrug it off, but it remained, haunting the corners of his mind. If he had only been able to meet her under different circumstances'�. Who was he kidding? He was old enough to be her father, likely.

But this day that had begun so typically took a twist when he arrived home. Hung on the doorknob of his house was a single red rose and a card, which smelled of the sweetest perfume and read, "Please allow me to thank you properly for your kind intervention. Come to dinner tonight at 7." Her address and name followed. She had signed it simply Denise. He stood for a long moment staring at it, then lifted first the card, then the rose to his nose and closed his eyes as he inhaled the sweet fragrances. It was absolutely intoxicating and flooded his senses to the exclusion of everything else. It was an intense emotional trigger and almost too much for him as tears began to well in his eyes.

'Oh, you are home. I thought I had missed you.'� A car door slammed behind him.

The voice surprised him momentarily. It was the woman that had been with her'�with Denise'�at the diner. She was coming up the steps to his house and was smiling comfortably. Ron forced himself to recover quickly and regain his composure.

'I'm Barbara, a friend of Denise's. I was just getting ready to leave after I put that card on your door, but I saw you here and thought I should talk to you instead.'� She extended her hand in a confident manner, more like a man than a woman. She had a firm grip that told him she was sincere and genuinely interested in him. Her black hair was shoulder length and softly curled. Its shine evidenced careful attention to her looks. She was an attractive woman, without a doubt.

'I know you are wondering why I am here'�.'� He was, indeed, but stood silently waiting for her to explain. 'Well, my friend Denise was really grateful for the help you gave her the other day and she wants to thank you in person.'�

'That really won't be necessary'�'� He smiled as best he could and started to turn toward the door again.

'No, I insist!'� She stopped and he felt that she visibly backed up at her own comment. He was intrigued at such a strange and forceful statement, to be sure. She re-gathered her poise and continued. 'The truth is that I am going to surprise her and she has no idea that I am trying to let her have the opportunity to thank you properly for your help. I really would appreciate it if you would come to dinner with us tonight. I know the notice is short, but it will be a great deal of fun, I promise. Please?'� She raised her brows expectantly and begged an answer from him.

'Look, I really don't get out much and though I probably should, your friend owes me nothing. I just did what any other person would have done. It feels too much like a blind date--I think she would be uncomfortable and to tell you the truth, so would I.'�

'You're kidding, right?'� She looked amused at this. 'Do you really mean that? Do you know how rare it is to see anyone care about someone other than himself these days, let alone to put himself at any risk for a stranger? That should be rewarded. Denise doesn't get out, either, but now---thanks to you---she has the opportunity to do so and I know she will welcome the chance to thank you. So, why be a snob? Have a good time with some good people, okay? '� She was forceful and direct. Though taken by surprise, he respected that.

She went on a few more minutes until she had broken through his wall of resistance. He could not refuse. Not with this woman. He was all out of excuses. He suspected she would never accept them anyway, regardless of their legitimacy. It seemed that fate had taken a hand and perhaps this was meant to be.

She cheerfully and graciously thanked him for his reluctant acceptance and had turned to leave before he gathered wits enough to ask how she had known where to find him. 'Women's intuition.'� She smiled broadly and waved goodbye. The situation was unusual and intriguing. This might be fun after all, he determined. 'Oh, and remember not to tell her I set this up,'� she called again.



Chapter 3

Ted was fit to be tied and angry enough to spit fire. Denise was nowhere to be found, not in the apartment, nor in any of the places she was prone to go when she sneaked out on him. She had not even reported to work in two days. Pacing the floor in his rage, wanting to hit something or someone, he knew she would not be coming back. He also knew there would be retribution for the humiliation he had suffered--he would see to that. No old man was going to show him up like that and just walk away unscathed. And no woman was going to disappear from his life without so much as a good-bye. She would pay. Somehow, they would both pay. But first, he would burn everything she had left behind'�and he would enjoy it immensely.


It had been three days since the incident in the diner. Denise could not get her mind off the chivalrous stranger that had quite likely saved her from real physical harm. She went to sleep thinking of him and woke each morning in her new apartment with his words ringing in her mind--'you can do much better.' He was right. She could do much better. She only wished that she had properly thanked him, instead of standing dumb as a post, letting him walk away. The doorbell interrupted her reverie. Barbara was smiling from ear to ear. Not waiting to be invited in, she pushed her way past Denise and whirled around, taking in the whole room at once.

"Hey, this is awesome! I just love what you've done with the place", she said sarcastically. "When are you going to actually start unpacking the boxes? We didn't move all this in for the fun of it, you know."

"Ooooooh, Baaaarb..." Denise whined pathetically. "I just didn't know how permanent this was going to be."

"What? Didn't know? You weren't seriously thinking of going back to that creep, were you?'� Her hands were now placed firmly on her hips and she was quite evidently ready to deliver an effective scolding should it be required.

"No! Heavens, no. I guess I just needed some time for it all to sink in."

"Well, you've had three days, so snap out of it, Sleeping Beauty. Life goes on." Denise could always count on Barbara not to indulge her when she wanted pity. Sympathy, even empathy when needed, but never pity. She was a get-on-with-it sort and wanted the same from her friends. That was what Denise needed right now.

"Okay, okay. Anyway, I had already decided that this morning, so lighten up a bit, alright?"

"That's my girl. Let's get cracking here--you have a house-warming dinner to get ready for and a special guest to thank for your rescue."

Denise stood open-mouthed, stunned and mute for a long second. "Wh--what? You can't be talking about that guy the other day. I have no way of doing that, much as I would like to."

'Well, I wasn't going to tell you too soon, but the time has come for you to know.'� Barbara partially turned her back and looking over her shoulder with a comic grin, patted herself on the shoulder as if to invite Denise to do the same. "Come on, right here'�pat, pat. Go ahead."

"What are you talking about?" She couldn't help but grin back; it was so goofy-looking.

Turning to face her again, Barb stated, "It helps to have a friend...ahem'�a very dear friend who works in the license bureau.'�

Denise's eyes widened and she grabbed Barbara by the shoulders. "You didn't! You got his name? How?"

"You forget who you're talking to here! While you were in your blind stupor'�'� She paused for effect and Denise shot her a look of pretended disdain. ''�I sneaked a quick peek at the plate on the back of the car he was driving and the rest, as they say, is history. I ran the number and got his name, address and phone. Of course'� you wouldn't be interested'� not in a knight in shining armor'�." She let the words trail off and shrugged her shoulders, letting her gaze wander in mock indifference, attempting unsuccessfully to look nonchalant.

"Barbara, you sly dog, you! Thank you. Oh! I have to get this place cleaned up. Help me!" She began to giggle as she opened the first box. "Thank you, Barb--you and Paul, for helping me move...and for all of this," referring to this last exciting news.

Pleased to see her closest friend again beaming happily, Barbara threw her right arm across the front of her body, extended one foot ahead of herself and bowed in mock reverence. "You are more than welcome, m'lady." Those were nearly the same words that her 'knight' had spoken to Denise on the day he had saved her from Ted, a real dragon if ever there was one. Both women began to laugh out loud.


Denise thought to herself how silly she was, for several times she caught herself pacing back and forth, trying to recall what it was she had meant to do. This is crazy--get a grip, relax and just prepare the meal, she thought. Just prepare the meal. This was a man, an ordinary man, she told herself, but for some strange reason she could not convince herself that it was true. He had captured her imagination in the same way that she had captured his, though she had yet to discover that last fact. Why couldn't she seem to forget him? Was it just that she felt obligated to thank him? No, it was more than that; something more that escaped words. Where this would lead she knew not, but her heart told her that this was no ordinary man. Barb's words brought her back to reality.

'Hey, Dopey! Focus!'� She grinned wide and returned to her task.
Ronald Jameson wondered as he tightened his tie, what would he say to her? He was confident and relaxed when he got out in public--at least he strove to project that image. It was a kind of protection; a shield from the discerning eyes of others. The truth was that he committed himself to be detached. It hurt less. This was somehow different. He had wished that he had taken more time and made certain that this woman...Denise'�was protected every step of the way from the maniac that had caused her grief so recently. To see her home safely or whatever she wished. He had felt at the time that he needed to remain detached. It was his habit. But now he felt that maybe that was one time that habits were meant to be broken. I should have followed my instincts, he thought. He was inwardly thankful for a second chance. At the same time he was a bit frightened of his feelings--it had been so long since he had courted his wife. Besides, he knew he was not really over the loss. It had been too recent. Still, how could he turn down such a gracious invitation? He could not. He tugged a comb through his hair and applied a cologne, subtle, yet masculine. He picked up the box of chocolates and headed to the door, more nervous than he had been in a very long time. He laughed at himself--courting? Get a grip! This was a dinner. One time and it was done, that's all. Be realistic. The thought disappointed him and he struggled to again muster a confident spirit.

At two minutes to seven, Ronald Jameson rang the bell and shook off his jitters. Be calm, he told himself. She just wants to say 'thank you' and then it will be over. There was a sad sense of finality in that thought and he was surprised that his heart again sank noticeably. He had little time to reflect, though, for the door opened almost immediately and there she was. She was stunning! He held his breath, involuntarily. He had not thought before to consider her age, but he guessed her to be in her mid-thirties. He also estimated she was about five feet, seven inches tall--a full four inches shorter than his own height of five-eleven. Her eyes were more deeply brown than he had noticed before. Maybe it was the early evening light, but they seemed to draw him in. Her chestnut hair had lovely highlights in it that shone like stars in the subdued light of the doorway and her dangle-earrings had the look of those made in the middle-eastern countries--fine, delicate wire, twisted into beautiful patterns. She wore a lovely black dress, sleeveless and of silky, loose-fitting fabric. It was gathered at the waist with a sash, descending in draped folds in all the right places and clinging attractively in all the others. Modest, but it appealed to him strongly. It was classy and dignified, sexy and mysterious, all at the same time. He had no idea of her size. He had never been very good at that. Not even with his wife. He just knew he had loved her and she was forgiving of his shortcomings and loved him back. He could tell that Denise was neither skinny nor overweight, but just right. That sounded so strange-who was he to decide which woman looked just right? He only knew that here was a gorgeous woman. Wake up, he thought. Stop ogling and say something.

"Well, I guess it's your turn to be silent", she said, beating him to the punch. She was strongly aware that he was studying her closely and she blushed, but it was somehow more flattering and gratifying than it was uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry for staring. You just...uh'�you look lovely." He grinned, shifting his eyes downward bashfully and shuffling his feet nervously.

She blushed again at his embarrassment and lowered her own eyes momentarily. "Thank you. Should I call you Ron or Ronald?"

"Ron, please." It was obvious that Barbara had told Denise that he would be coming to dinner, but he had been sworn to silence, so he said nothing of the meeting at his door that morning.

"Well, Ron, please come in." She stepped aside and swept her arm in a gesture of welcome. He saw now that her hair hung to the middle of her back. It was beautiful and he wished he could touch it, wondering why he had not noticed this before.

"I brought chocolates for after dinner. I hope that is okay."

"Oh, yes, thank you. That's very kind of you. And I hope you don't mind that my friend Barbara and her husband Paul will be joining us. You met her the other day." Thinking twice, she regrouped. "Well, I guess none of us actually met, did we?"

"She seems a good friend to you. Anyone else might have ducked and run in your time of need. She stuck by you."

Denise smiled. "Please sit down--yes, she has been a friend for an awfully long time. My mother always said that you would have many associates in life, but very few true friends. Barbara is a true friend. She is like my own blood."

"My mother taught me the same thing." He hesitated a moment before continuing. "I haven't had a true friend in awhile; not since my wife passed away." Ron immediately felt that perhaps he should have said nothing regarding this, but it was too late to recall his words.

Denise relaxed visibly, though, and Ron sensed it, opening up to this woman that he had just met. He could not explain why, but he felt instinctively that he could trust her. She was 'comfortable' to him. It was like meeting an old friend that you'd forgotten you had. She told him of all the years when she and her friend Barb had been growing up together, from the time Barb's family had moved in next door to her at the lake, through grade school, high school, college and all the trouble they'd gotten into together. Mischief seemed to follow them everywhere, but they had avoided any real harm and had a great time. Then Barbara had found someone special and married. Denise had felt left out. Maybe that was why she had taken up with Ted'a companionship of convenience that had turned out to be not so convenient after all.

Denise seemed to weigh her words a moment before she spoke. "You make a woman feel very much at ease, Ron; do you know that?"

It was now his turn to blush and she was rather surprised at this, but found it charming as well, that a man who had come so strongly to her rescue just a few days before would now be tongue-tied and staring at the floor. She wanted to follow her instincts and cuddle closer to him, but not wanting him to be uncomfortable, she excused herself and went to get them something to drink while they waited for the others and sat quietly talking.

Upon returning with drinks, she stated, "I made my specialty for dinner tonight. There's a lot of cheeses used in it, but Barb says that is somehow appropriate when it involves me--she says I'm 'kinda cheesy''�. She laughed nervously. 'I hope you like it". She brushed back her hair and averted her eyes briefly, pulling the corners of her mouth and slightly ducking her head in a way that told him she was nervous and this really was a special occasion to her. He started inwardly, shocked and pleased that she would honor him so. She looked a bit like a young schoolgirl in her mannerisms, just for the briefest moment. Truth be told, he felt a bit giddy himself, but he liked the feeling. It seemed like forever since he had felt this way. This could last forever, he thought--just the two of us alone. He would have had no objections at all. It was not meant to be, however, for the bell rang and Barbara let herself in immediately, followed by Paul.

She brushed past an advancing Denise and went directly to Ron. "Hi, I'm Barbara and this is my husband, Paul".

Paul extended his hand to Ron. "Ah, the knight in shining armor who rescued our princess from the dragon. At last we meet." Denise had this little-girl-embarrassed look, coupled with an expression that seemed to mildly scold Paul, had he been looking in her direction.

The two men exchanged pleasantries while the ladies took a moment to draw aside and speak in whispers and to giggle a moment. It seemed to Ron that Denise had a red face, but she acted composed when she again turned to the men. She was happy, he could tell and that made him happy. Strange to feel this way for a girl he hardly knew. Girl? This was no girl. Yes, she was notably younger than he was, but he sensed somehow that she was maybe more a woman than he had ever had in his life. His wife had been so retiring and private. This woman was'�different, that was all he could say. He was more attracted to her than he had been even to his wife when they first met. Denise saturated his senses. Her smile and even her embarrassment at the moment were completely charming to him. He was hopelessly smitten and he knew it.

The blush had subsided a little when Denise announced, "Okay, let me have your attention a moment. I want to thank all of you for coming tonight to my house-warming dinner, for gracing my new home with your presence and warming it with your love." Barb suppressed a snicker that was not lost on Denise, who shot her a 'stop that' look. "Dinner is ready--shall we eat?"

The dinner was wonderful. Ron could not remember the last time that he had eaten a home-cooked meal other than his own. Certainly not one like this. Chicken Parmegian, broccoli Alfredo, candied yams, baked apples with ginger glaze for dessert, followed by the chocolates that Ron had brought. The conversation was warm, stimulating and at times very humorous. Ron felt, in a strange way, that he was coming home for the first time in a long while. He felt very comfortable among these people that he did not know. The satisfaction of it all was as heartwarming as it was surprising.

Paul suddenly got up and went to the kitchen. Upon returning, he called for their attention and produced a bottle of champagne and four wine glasses. As he popped the cork and poured the drinks, he said, "I want to commemorate this occasion with a toast." He passed the glasses, poured the drinks and then began, 'To Denise--may her life be long and warmed by the affection of friends and lovers. To her new home--may it be full of friends when she chooses and lovers when she desires.'� He put enough emphasis on the last word to cause Denise' mouth to drop open and to earn him the ready elbow from Barbara. Denise placed a hand over her mouth as women do when they are a bit embarrassed, but recovered quickly. Paul grinned widely, casting a glance at Ron, who was blushing again, then went on. "In short, may you always have the best of everything in your life, for none deserve it more than do you." This last was a heartfelt statement, the sincerity of which none could miss.

A hearty 'hear, hear' came from the remaining two and they raised their glasses to the toast. Denise silently mouthed the words, thank you, as through her moistened eyes she looked from one to another of her friends. Her gaze came to Ron, who was studying her with the air of a man smitten. She recognized that look and, flattered, she rested a moment upon his face, too, until Ron again raised his glass to her. She noticed he did not drink any of it, but politely responded to the toast anyway. Perhaps he just did not drink. She could not fault him for this and took no offense, not after what she felt he had done for her. For the first time in ages she was truly happy and wished this moment would never end.

Just when all thought Paul was finished, he turned to Ron and, lifting his glass again, said, "And to you, Sir Knight, for aiding a damsel in distress--and in vanquishing a dragon, that our fair lady might begin anew." Again they raised their glasses.

Ron replied, "Please, you give me far more credit than is due. All this talk of knighthood makes me uncomfortable, really." He looked it, too, and Denise decided it was now her turn to rescue him. "Who wants more chocolate?'� she asked.

All had finally consumed their fill at the table and Denise graciously said, "Thank you all for coming. We will have to do this again soon, but I have to work tomorrow and need to get some sleep soon."

The party broke up quickly and Ron was the last to leave. He hesitated uncomfortably at the door for a long moment and finally took her hand as he had on the previous occasion, cradling it like a treasure in both of his own. "I hope you don't mind that I did not drink tonight. I've seen too many of my friends get into trouble because of it. Truth is, I used to drink heavily. It was the love of a good woman that got me out of it. So, please forgive me if I want to maintain some dignity for another good woman.'� He smiled and fairly waded into her eyes with his gaze. 'Denise, you have no idea how much I enjoyed this evening. I wish it would never end. You would do me a great honor if I may call on you again." His words were soft and genuine and he looked at her face with eyes that traced all about it as though he were memorizing every detail of her countenance. She felt almost as though she were being worshipped.

This man had a power over her that she welcomed with open arms. He made her feel safe. He made her feel loved and above all he made her feel important. Not a possession to be kept, but a treasure to be cherished. He then lifted her hand and kissed it long and lovingly. Denise nearly melted into the porch upon which she stood. Her heart raced in her chest and her breathing shallowed dramatically. As he raised his head, she thought she could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes and he quickly said goodnight, more whispered than spoken aloud, in a voice tinged with emotion and then hurriedly turned to leave. It was obvious that he was embarrassed to be seen crying, but it charmed her even more that he was so touched. She just stood staring after him until his car disappeared in the distance. This was a man not easily forgotten, she knew. What part he was to play in her life remained to be seen, but she knew without doubt that he would play a major part in her dreams this night.

A hand-written card came by messenger before the end of the next day. Denise opened it excitedly. Thank you for a truly perfect evening and meal. It was surpassed only by the company. It was signed only Ron. A warm tingle flooded her body and she gathered the card with both hands to her lips and nose, as though hoping to catch his scent. She had not felt this way in such a long time, and never with Ted. She reflected on that and then shook it off as a thought too distasteful--one that might ruin a perfect moment. There was that word again--perfect.



Chapter 4

It was Monday and Ted sat patiently and quietly in a car, watching the building where Denise worked. It was closing time for the finance business and she would likely be out any minute now. Though she had not reported to work in several days, he knew she had to work to live and she could not afford to stay in a new place without paying for it in some way. And if she had quit her job here, at the very least she might return for her final check. He would wait patiently. The plan was simple enough--find her new apartment. All he had to do was follow her home and to ensure that he would not be caught, he had rented another automobile, quite different from the one he usually drove.

'�and there she was. Denise exited the building and disappeared around the side to the parking lot. In a moment she appeared again in her own car, paused at the street, then turned to merge into traffic. As long as he did not lose sight of her, Ted knew he would eventually get his revenge.

He followed at a safe distance, being certain that she would never be able to see him. Patience is a virtue, he thought. And this time it would pay off. She made several turns and crossed a bridge before she got to a driveway into which she turned. She entered the house with her own key, meaning that she was likely the only one home at this time. Ted sat and watched for another half hour before he left, making a mental note of the time she had arrived home. As he drove away, he had a slight smirk on his lips. He had the information he needed. Now, to plan carefully.




The following day was nearing an end and the evening approaching when Ron's phone rang. He answered to find Barbara, highly agitated, on the other end of the line. 'Ron, I am sorry to appear so presumptuous as to bother you at home like this, seeing as we've just met, but I really need your help.'�

Ron was a little surprised, but recognizing the voice, he responded, 'Nonsense, you have no reason to apologize to me. I am flattered that you would call me for any reason. What can I do for you?'�

'Well, it's Denise'�'�

He was immediately concerned and his heart rate accelerated considerably at the thought that she might be hurt in some way. 'What happened? Is she alright?'�

'Yes, she is fine, for the time being, but I have reason to worry. When she got home from work, she found a rock through her window. A note was attached to it that said she would 'pay for her crimes'. I have no way of proving it, but it sure doesn't sound like a child's prank. I think it may be Ted. The police came, but they said without further evidence to warrant investigation, they could do nothing. That doesn't build much confidence, frankly.'�

He relaxed a bit, knowing she was safe for the moment. 'Okay, what can I do to help?'�

'I don't know, really. I guess that maybe you could just help to relax her and let her know that she has a friend other than me that cares. She was hesitant to call you on this. I think she feels she would be intruding.'�

'Intruding? On what?'� He chuckled a bit as he said this, reflecting on his empty and boring life until lately. 'I will be right over. Is she at her home or at your place?'�

'We are at her apartment. Oh, get something to write this down--I want you to have her number and mine, too, so that we can keep in touch on this'�on whatever we need to'�

'And I will give you my cell phone number so that in case I am not home you can still reach me, okay?'�

He took note of the numbers she gave, placing them in a pocket-sized address booklet, which he then returned to his back pocket. She also wrote the number that he gave to her in return. 'I'm on my way right now, Barb.'� He hung up and left immediately.

Upon arriving, Ron walked up to the door he had visited just a few days previously, to find that the glass in the window beside the door had indeed been broken out. It looked as if someone had already cleaned up the pieces and a sheet of plastic had been taped over the window to seal against the weather. He knocked just as Barbara opened the door for him. 'Thanks for coming over so quickly, Ron.'�

'It's no problem. You call me any time that you need to.'�

Denise sat on the sofa, alone and looking quite dazed. Ron went to her immediately and knelt down in front of her, placing his hand on her knee. 'How are you doing?'� he asked gently. She looked at him briefly, shrugging her shoulders and averting her reddened eyes again. He could tell that she had been crying a lot and knew he had to break up the mood she was in. 'Listen, I've had many an occasion to cry and sometimes it even helps to have an audience. After all, who wants to suffer in silence if nobody even knows it?'� She chuckled and sniffed. 'There, that smile looks so much better--there is the lovely lady I know and'�'� he stopped short, but both women caught it. 'Feeling better?'� he quickly asked.

'Yes, thank you.' Denise studied his face a moment. Again, there was genuine kindness and concern in it.

Barbara touched Ron on the shoulder and asked, 'Can I talk to you alone a minute?'�

'Barbara'�'� Denise began.
'Now you just sit there and be good'�, Barb scolded, extending a hand as though to hold her back.

'Alright, but you behave, too.'� Denise sat obediently, but visibly did not like what she thought might be shaping up. She had no idea exactly what Barb was thinking, but she liked Ron'�a lot'�and did not want this relationship messed up before it really even started.

After Barb had drawn Ron aside she took him by one arm and looked him in the eyes as one might do with a child. 'Look, it's none of my business, but it's obvious to anyone with eyes that you two are more than casually interested in one another. Maybe it's time to quit playing 'cat and mouse' and let someone get 'caught', if you catch my meaning. After all, it's been two days since the dinner, right? She really needs someone dependable in her life for stability right now and it may as well be you as anyone else, right?'�

'My, you are direct, aren't you?'� He couldn't help but admire the loyalty and concern for her friend, but she could be a bit intimidating also. Seldom taken off guard, this was an entirely new experience for Ron.

'Well, if you snooze, you lose, mister--and neither of you are going to benefit by wasting any time, okay?'� She turned to face a questioning look from Denise. 'I'm going home now, dear. You are in good hands here.'� She winked after she ever so slightly emphasized the word good and she whisked out waving goodbye before anyone could say another word. Denise wasn't certain there had not been some subtle emphasis on the word hands, too, which would be just like Barb to be that mischievous, but she shrugged it off mentally.

'I must say, Barb is a very interesting woman'�, Ron stated, as one would in describing a cross between a birthday present and a Pandora's box.

'Yes, she is,'� giggled Denise and immediately changed her demeanor. 'What did she say?'� Staring straight into his eyes, she raised one eyebrow, squinted the other eye and put both hands firmly on her hips with an air of authority as she asked. There was no doubt she wanted an answer.

'Uh'�it doesn't matter, really--she was right. Will you let me call a glass repairman I know and then take you to dinner? I don't cook well, so that is the best I have to offer.'�

She softened her expression and nodded pleasantly. 'Since that's the best offer I've had in some time'�I accept.'�

Denise insisted on driving and Ron chose an Italian restaurant. On the way they discussed so many things, she thought there would be nothing left for later, but over dinner they seemed to find just as many more things to talk about. Every moment they spent together was like an adventure.

'Ron, we've talked about a huge variety of subjects, but you haven't told me much about yourself. Maybe you're just the strong, silent type? What deep, dark secrets are you hiding in there?'� She smiled and leaned forward, elbows on the table, chin resting on her folded hands and fully intent on his imminent answer.

He grinned sheepishly and looked at the tablecloth. 'There's not much to tell, really.'�

'I don't believe you. How did you handle Ted the other day without so much as ruffling your hair? Why do you say you get so few home-cooked meals? A good man like you would get lots of dinner invitations, I would think. I am surprised you are not married.'�

He looked a bit crestfallen at this last statement and she saw him fidget and swallow hard before he answered. She felt suddenly that she might have stepped over the line and was just ready to apologize as he responded hesitantly.

'I was married. I, uh'�'� He stopped completely, at a loss for words and Denise had to break the silence for them both.

'Yes'�I recall you saying she's passed away, but I didn't think it was that recently. I'm sorry. I just saw no ring, and so I assumed'�'�

He gathered his wits again and proceeded to relate the information he felt she deserved to hear. 'It's okay. Her name was Lenore. She's been gone about a year and a half now--complications from surgery. I know I should be over it better by now. Not terribly flattering for you, I'm sure. I apologize. As for the ring, I never wore it because of the nature of my work. It was precious to me and I never felt it mixed very well with the work I was engaged in. I taught martial arts in the service. '� A tear fell from his cheek and he took his napkin and dried it quickly. Denise almost felt regrets she had broached the still-tender subject.

'Martial arts--that answers the other question. I'm sorry if I hurt you, Ron. It's really none of my'�'�

'No, no--I want you to know about me. I don't wear the ring now because of habit.'� He paused, elbows resting gently on the table and placing his open hands over his chin and mouth, as though he were searching for just the right words. He sighed and then began, 'I requested an early retirement because it just took the wind out of my sails.'� Again he paused briefly and chuckled, brightening a bit. 'Y'know, if it weren't for Ted, I never would have met you. How is that for irony?'�

She laughed aloud. 'Well, I will not be sending him a thank-you card. I can assure you in that.'�

Ron laughed, too. He reached across the table and took her hand and his eyes said what his mouth could not. They laid bare what was in his heart and soul. She felt she would trust this man with her very life.

Ironically, after a completely lovely dinner, a totally exasperated Denise was stamping her feet and waving her fists in the parking lot outside. 'Agh! That creep!'� All four tires on her car were now flattened. She turned about, screaming in all directions, 'You creep! I'm not married to you! You could've had me, but you blew it! Just leave me alone!'� Ron looked about, too. There was no likely culprit in sight, but he spotted a surveillance camera on the side of the building directly adjacent to the restaurant. The business was closed, but he would talk to them tomorrow. There might be some chance it would show something, but for now he would call a serviceman to repair the tires and then see that she had a ride home and to work the next morning. Ron knew, though, that something had to be done about this'and soon. This was getting far too serious to ignore any longer.




Chapter 5


Having gotten the number from her the night before, Ron called Denise at work about ten thirty the next day. 'I've made an appointment for you to see the business manager of the savings and loan next to the restaurant. And I will pick you up. You can eat lunch on the way. Is that alright?'� She consented readily; anxious to put a quick end to the torment she was receiving from Ted.

The surveillance tape was terribly inconclusive. Her car had been parked at the furthest limit of the camera's view. There was indeed someone moving about, as though vandalizing tires, but he seemed to be wearing a hooded sweatshirt. His face was always out of view in one way or another, making it impossible to identify him.

'He walks like Ted. He has the same build. It could be him, but I can't tell for sure.'� She looked extremely discouraged. 'I'd hoped we had him, but he's too careful. He covered himself well.'� With that, she turned away in total frustration.

Ron thanked the man for his help and turned to follow Denise, who was just angry enough to forget her manners and walk out without another word. Once outside she vented, 'I can't believe it! He is supposed to be out of my life and he is still managing to mess it all up!'� She had her clenched fists to her forehead in exasperation and was pacing back and forth in a mild rage.

Ron was resolute. He felt that the police could not effectively help in this matter, being too bound by the constraints of their oaths to obey the law. He could respect them for that. He could admire them, even, but he could not count on them to stop Ted. Every fiber of his being told him that Ted was not fool enough to allow himself to so easily be caught or implicated. 'Let me handle this. All I need from you is some information.'�


Ted was sitting in his car, getting ready to leave his home. He started the car and looked up from the ignition to see standing directly in front of him the man who had so badly humiliated him. For the briefest of moments he wanted obey the urge to slam the car into drive and do his worst, but he fought it and overcame only by a hairs breadth. Control, he reminded himself. Stay cool and control the situation. He emerged from the car slowly, looking about to see if they were alone. 'Did you come back to finish the job?'� His sarcasm was obvious.

Ron was unshaken. 'I've come to ask you politely, man to man, to leave Denise alone. Let her get on with her life. That's all she wants. It's not an unreasonable request.'�

Ted chuckled and extended his open palms in both directions. 'What do you want from me? She left me and that's that. She has her life.'� He sobered suddenly, 'She chose what she wants. Let her live with it.'� His words were menacing and there was in them a thinly veiled threat that Ron could not miss.

'I'm not joking. You leave her alone.'� Ron fairly spat the words, stared meaningfully into Ted's eyes for a sufficiently long time to convey the sincerity of his message and then turned to go to his car. Ted jumped into his own. He felt this could be a formidable opponent and he sensed Ron was there to stay. But he, too, would not go away so easily.
'So be it'�, he said softly, glaring for a brief moment before he gunned the engine and surged forward with tires squealing, forcing Ron to jump aside to avoid injury.

This would not be as easy as Ron had expected. Though he inwardly hoped this was a last-ditch attempt to show defiance, his instincts told him that Ted was a genuine threat, played for keeps and he would have to be on his toes if he wanted to protect Denise.


A few days went by without incident--nothing out of the ordinary. Perhaps Ted had gotten the message after all and decided to use some common sense in the matter. Denise had by now relaxed enough to feel at ease again and joke with Ron, who had come over the last two nights to spend time with her.

'Okay, this is a computer joke, see? Two fonts walk into a bar. The bartender says to them, 'Get out! We don't serve your 'type' here.''�

'That is truly awful,'� Ron told her as he winced visibly. 'I had no idea you were so warped.'� He grinned and shook his head in mock disdain as he said it. Feigning upset at his remark, Denise asked, 'I suppose you can do better?'�

'Pfeh! With my eyes closed.'�

She couldn't help but laugh at the sheer silliness of the comment. 'Okay, Mister Smarty Pants. Your turn. Impress me.'�

'Alright. Do you know why there is no Disneyland in China?'�

''�No'�Why?'� Her hesitation was evident. She was not entirely sure she wanted to hear the answer, but curiosity is a powerful urge.

'Because nobody is tall enough for the good rides.'�

She hit him gently on the chest with the palms of both hands, pushing him away, laughing all the while. 'And you thought mine was bad? That one was the worst joke of all time. How do you live with yourself?'�

Her smile and laughter were such a delight to him that he would gladly have told stupid jokes and riddles all night. They told one bad joke after another until Denise recited a particularly silly poem and ended by throwing her arms upward in a flamboyant and victorious 'ta-da' to an imaginary audience. There was only Ron here as her fan, but that was all she wanted. He laughed approvingly and applauded. This was the happiest she had seen him and it was the happiest he had seen her, as well.

Her mood swung suddenly, growing sober and deliberate. She looked straight into his eyes with warmth that seemed to heat the room. Her gaze said more silently than she could ever express in words. He felt the muscles in his chest tighten with the anxiety of an inexperienced schoolboy as he sat frozen in rapt and anxious attention and watching her slow approach, wondering that he had ever been so shy and backward as to almost let this precious pearl slip through his fingers. Thank God for Barbara, he thought.

She lowered herself easily onto his lap and slowly leaned forward, gently placing her lips upon his. She saw that he closed his eyes and heard him let out an involuntary whimper. She, too, closed her eyes and they kissed for the first time. A long, perfect kiss that made time and space disappear altogether. Such a kiss as she was sure had never been equaled since the world began. A kiss that, for its perfection, even the very heavens must take notice of. When they again opened their eyes, what had been a sunset was now complete darkness, except for a streetlight that graced the window from afar.

Shocking as it was, she guessed they must have kissed for at least half an hour. Truly time had ceased for them, in their own little private corner of the universe. Ron could not help but tell her, 'I wish it could last forever, Denise. I think I'm falling in love with you.'� She looked like an angel in the half-darkened room. As long as he could see her, even in the subdued light, he was satisfied. He gazed into her eyes as though he wanted to fall in and willingly drown, just that he might be a part of her forever.

His arms were about her and she felt safe and warm. She stroked his cheek and kissed his forehead lovingly. 'And I have a confession to make--I think I love you, too.'�

They kissed again for a moment before Denise rose hesitantly to draw the shade and turn on a soft light. She never got to do so, for she recoiled and screamed in horror, running to Ron's arms in a panic as he sprang from the couch to hold her. She was positively trembling and he calmed her as best he could, seeing over her shoulder that there was something hanging in the window--something that had frightened her badly. 'Stay here, Denise.'� He motioned for her to sit on the sofa while he investigated.

What Ron found in the dim glow of the streetlight surprised even him. Hung from a nail and string, shoved in the frame between the windowpanes, was a dead cat. Something was written on the window in what appeared to be felt marker. He could just make out the words, 'Die, Denise. Die!' There was little doubt in his mind who had done this.

'He must have been watching us kiss, Ron. Ugh! I hate him. I-hate-him!'� She bit off each word and spat it angrily.

'I am beginning to see your point of view, dear'�. He had never called her that before today, but it felt right and she came to him and cuddled in tighter than before, into the safety of his arms and the close privacy of the darkened room.

Ron thought, this time Ted has gone too far--he has stepped over the line and threatened someone I care about--and I won't tolerate it. He will pay for this, without fail. But Ron also knew he had to go through the motions and contact the authorities, regardless of the result. When Denise was sufficiently calmed to sit alone for a moment, Ron phoned the police, giving them the details over the phone and waiting until they arrived to investigate and get a full report.

'Denise, this will be over soon. There is no way that he can continue to harass you like this and not be held accountable for it. I know some people who will help. Let me handle it.'�

She was not trembling anymore, but her body language spoke volumes about her feelings. Fear was the dominating emotion for her right now. Fear and depression. She sat on the edge of the sofa with a pillow clutched tightly to her chest and her upper body was folded over onto her lap. She rocked up and down slowly. This was like the reversion to the fetal position seen in some trauma victims, Ron thought to himself. The girl was in shock and near the breaking point. She had to get away soon or she would snap. He sent her gently, but firmly to her bed as soon as they had answered everything the police wanted from them.

Before leaving, the officer in charge drew Ron aside, taking care not to be overheard and volunteered, 'Sir, I can't tell you what to do or not to do, but if I were in your position, I would take her on a long trip and get away from it all. She looks extremely stressed to me. I've seen this before and I'm guessing she won't take much more of this until she'll be in need of professional help. It's your decision, of course, but I feel obligated to tell you.'�

'Yes, I believe you may be right about that'�, Ron agreed, thanking the officer sincerely and he escorted them all to the door when they had fully concluded their investigation at the scene. He had to admit, he did not have much confidence that anything would result from it, but he had done his duty to inform them and the incident would be officially recorded before it disappeared into oblivion.

Ron stayed the night on the sofa, in order to ensure Denise' safety and in the morning he followed her to work and escorted her into the building, making certain she was safe. She had valiantly insisted that she must go to work and get on with her life, not letting anything change her behavior. She had put on a brave face that was not entirely convincing. Ron had tried to talk her out of it, but she would have no part of it, so he had gracefully given in and let her have her way. He hoped that she knew what she was doing.

As it turned out, she did not. Her daily routine gave her far too much time for her mind to wander and it always came back to the same thing. Denise had been frightened deeply and she could not just forget it like it never happened. The result was inevitable and predictable. She began to sob; softly at first and then it accelerated rapidly. Her hands shook, then her whole body shuddered with each gasping breath and cry. She had been traumatized and it was no use denying it.

'Miss Payton'�oh, my word'�'� There was no consoling her in this state, though her boss, Mr. Jorgenson, tried worthily to do so.

As she persistently refused any professional medical care, he called Barbara, who in turn called on Ron to accompany her and Denise was soon on her way home, to take a much-needed leave of absence. Mr. Jorgenson had told her it was the slow season. Another employee was about to return from her vacation and they would manage somehow until that time.

Denise looked weakened and emotionally withdrawn as she sat in Ron's car. 'Where can we go?'� she asked tiredly. 'I need to get away,'� speaking almost to no one in particular as she stared out the windshield into space.

'I know just the place,'� Ron answered resolutely and pulled the shift lever into drive, a look of unshakeable determination in his eyes as he first drove Barbara home and then to gather some of Denise's things.

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