Chapter 6
On the fifth of July, Turner for President offices opened in one hundred cities and towns across the country and the turnerforpresident.com web site went active. Jake and Melissa started a road trip the Monday after the Fourth of July; for three weeks, they crisscrossed the country presiding over the grand openings of twenty of the campaign offices. Over the next four months, Jake would visit every office at least once. Jake's appearance at the office always energized the campaign in that locale and brought in volunteers and donations. Jake was financing the campaign himself but would take donations up to fifty dollars. The token donations actually made people feel more involved and gave them a stake in his success.
Jake was pleased that Melissa's campaign organization had the offices completely stocked with campaign literature, bumper stickers, and free paperback copies of a revised and reedited Time for a Change. Data on Time software developers had also put together an interactive CD ROM of Time for a Change. Melissa's use of high tech and the Internet sprinted Jake's campaign off to a fast start.
Jake had spent a lot of time contemplating the effect of what he was doing. As soon as he burst onto the national scene as a serious candidate for president, he had driven a giant wedge between this timeline and the one he came from. The divergence that had been a small crack so far was going to rapidly turn into a chasm of Grand Canyon proportions. The divergence in the timelines meant that events he was familiar with from his first life were not going to happen in this one. He was going to be in uncharted territory soon. It was a scary thought, but Jake figured that knowing generally what mistakes to avoid still gave him an edge. On the other hand, he also knew that getting hyper-prepared to fight the last war had often made the military less able to respond to new threats.
Jake also gave his political positions a lot of thought. Just how much of what he believed in was he willing to compromise to be elected? After some soul searching, he decided -not much. Jake, regardless of his fame and fortune, considered himself an average guy and felt that the things he believed in were what most other people cared about. Jake was not a liberal; he did not believe that it was the federal government's job to create some sort of utopia. Yet, except for fiscal policy, he was not a conservative either. Jake was going to stake out the middle ground. His positions would be where pragmatism and common sense prevailed.
Jake's early announcement of his candidacy and the organization Melissa had put together had him in contention immediately and left the other hopefuls scrambling to catch up. The main concern in Jake's camp now was keeping up the momentum.
Congress reconvened in late July for a two-week clean up session. Jake suspended his campaigning for those two weeks and focused on the job he had been elected to do. During the first week of the abbreviated session, the Center for Public Service gave out its annual Congressional report cards. For the fourth straight year, Jake was atop the list as the most conscientious Member of Congress. Excluding his deployment to Desert Shield/Desert Storm, Jake had once again been present every day the House of Representatives had been in session.
The news of his presidential aspirations caused quite a buzz in the House. Jake was called into a meeting with the Democratic Party leadership the first day of the session.
"What are you doing, Jake?" Speaker of the House Foley asked.
"Trying to make a difference, Mr. Foley," Jake replied.
"But, Mister Turner," interjected House Majority leader Dick Gephardt, "your announcement puts others interested in running in a bind. You should have at least discussed the matter with the leadership."
Jake remembered that Gephardt had not been a candidate in 1992 so he was likely speaking on someone else's behalf.
"Mr. Gephardt, as I understand it, no one in the party thinks we can keep the President from being reelected; so I would think you would be relieved that someone has come forward to be the sacrificial lamb. Not telling the leadership my plans was, on reflection, a mistake. A mistake I will not repeat. I'll tell you something else gentlemen; I am in this to win. I will contest every delegate from every state, from now until the convention," Jake responded.
"Fair enough, Jake," Speaker Foley said, "I hope you will not take it the wrong way if we withhold supporting your bid for the present."
"No problem, Mr. Foley; I understand your need for caution. Mr. Gephardt, I hope you will accept my apology for keeping you all in the dark about my plans. I won't harbor any ill feelings regardless of who you support."
Gephardt nodded his understanding as Foley held out his hand.
"I'm glad that's settled then, Jake. We'll see you on the floor later."
After Jake departed, the Speaker turned to Majority Leader Gephardt.
"You know Dick, he reminds me of Kennedy in '63. I wonder if he can get people as excited as Jack Kennedy could. He is certainly young and handsome, and that wife of his is a class act. Man, oh man, wouldn't that be something," Foley said wistfully.
Gephardt shrugged noncommittally; his support was already promised to Bob Kerry of
Nebraska.
In Miami Joe Bunnell, former pilot for Air Erika stared at his morning Miami Herald in disbelief.
"Son-of-a-bitch, I can't believe this shit," he muttered.
Joe's wife Clarice looked up from the copy of Cosmopolitan she was thumbing through.
"Your language, Joseph," she chided, "and what can't you believe?"
Joe glanced at her over his paper, mentally counting to ten before answering her. Every day he regretted marrying her more. Being married to Clarice was worse than the twenty-two months he had spent in prison. He had well and truly fucked himself when he had married the boss's daughter. Even though she was the harpy from hell, he had to treat her as if she were a goddess or suffer her father's wrath. And Joe was not about to piss off Manny Calderon. Joe had seen the Columbian deal misery on too many people to do something that stupid.
"One of my old bosses is running for president, or rather, her asshole of a husband is. I owe both of them big time for the shitty way they treated me."
Clarice stared at him in disbelief, so amazed that she missed his profanity.
"You worked for the Turners? My god, they are like the most perfect couple."
Joe glance back up at her, carefully keeping the disgust out of his voice and expression. He was thrilled that Manny wanted to fly to Mexico today for a three day visit, because Joe did not think he could spend another day with her fat ass without snapping.
"They aren't all that great," he said defensively. "They think their pooh-pooh don't smell bad. Maybe I can find a way to bring them down a notch."
"Whatever, ' she sniffed, "just don't do anything that might hurt Daddy."
Joe turned his attention back to the newspaper effectively cutting off any further conversation.
"My life," he thought, "is hell, and it's all the Turners' fault."
Joe Bunnell's life had spiraled downhill after Melissa fired him. The slumping economy of the early seventies prevented him from being hired by a major airline so he took on a job in South Florida flying freight to South America in an old DC-3. Before long, his return cargo was consignments of Manuel Calderon and George Jung's cocaine. In 1977, Jung's smuggling empire came crashing down and Joe was swept up in the wave of arrests. He plea-bargained the rap down to a two-year sentence for conspiracy.
Manny Calderon had taken a shine to Joe and, when Bunnell did not give the Feds any information that could rat him out, Calderon hire him out of prison. Joe became Manny's personal pilot, a position that effectively insulated Joe from direct involvement in the cocaine business. When Manny's daughter Clarice and Joe hit it off, Manny rushed them towards marriage. Joe had been all for it at first; Clarice was a wild and sexually adventurous beauty. Ten years later though, she was a fat lazy heifer.
Yeah, a little pay-back would be nice.
Melissa Turner was incredibly busy at the Turner for President headquarters in Palmdale. She loved the fact that Jake was being taken so seriously as a candidate. Her only regret was that she could not find the time to go up to DC and be with her husband.
Melissa was thankful that she had insisted on a super-capacity web site as she reviewed the number of hits for the preceding week. Two million people had visited turnerforpresindent.com in the last three weeks. More importantly, over half of them had registered at the site.
Melissa put aside the overview numbers and picked up a folder containing information targeted towards the cities she would be visiting next week. The four cities targeted for visits were key parts of Jake's Southern strategy. Melissa had a feeling she would be seeing a lot of the old south in the coming months. The Atlanta office seemed to be their weak link in terms of volunteerism and activity. She picked up the woefully short list of potential volunteers and composed an e-mail note to each of them welcoming them aboard. She also gave each person a telephone number to call to receive free tickets to a dinner she was hosting for Georgia's elite Democrats at the Peachtree Plaza.
Bernard Kingston hurried off the train and bolted towards his parked car. Bernard lived in an upper middleclass suburb of Atlanta, not far from the Metropolitan Atlanta Rapid Transit Authority (MARTA) rail stop in Chamblee, Georgia. Bernard was an actuary with the Georgia Life Insurance Company. He was single and lived by himself; he was too compulsively neat to share his life with anyone. Well, almost anyone; there was one woman who lived up to his standards and she was the reason Bernard was in such a rush.
Bernard removed his shoes inside his front door, buffed them off, and placed them on a shoe rack in the hall closet. He slipped on a pair of supple calfskin moccasins before heading to his bedroom. As excited as he was, he still scrupulously kept to his daily rituals. Bernard hung up his suit coat and pants then put his soiled shirt in his clothes hamper before donning a pair of casual pants and a polo shirt. He checked himself in one of the three full length mirrors in his bedroom then smoothed a few stray strands of his thinning blonde hair across his scalp. Satisfied with his appearance, Bernard retraced his steps to the front door retrieving the newspaper he had left on the foyer table.
Newspaper in hand, Bernard pulled a bottle of Perrier out of his refrigerator and sat at his kitchen table. He placed the bottle of water on an absorbent stone coaster and dug out the local new section of the Atlanta Journal-Constitution. Bernard's heart rate jumped; prominently displayed on page B-1 was a full color, eighth of a page photo of the object of his latest obsession. He eagerly read the accompanying text:
Palmdale, Florida (UPI)
Today the Turner for President campaign headquarters announced the grand opening of regional offices in Atlanta, New Orleans, Birmingham, Alabama, and Jackson, Mississippi. Sven Johansson, the campaign's Director of Media Relations, stated that Melissa Thornton Turner, the candidate's wife, would preside over the events in Atlanta and Birmingham while the Congressman tended to his duties in the House of Representatives. Congressman Turner (D-FL) will join his wife at the opening of the Jackson campaign center...
Bernard quickly scanned the rest of the article and copied the date and time of Melissa's visit into his Daytimer in precise block printing. He leaned back in his chair and carefully refolded the paper. Bernard was not one for politics, he had never voted in his life. Never-the-less, the Turner campaign was about to get a dedicated volunteer. Melissa would notice him for his outstanding work, and, like a bee to a sweet flower, she would be irresistibly drawn to him. The irreconcilable number in the equation was Mr. Turner, but Bernard was already formulating a plan to correct that incongruity.
Bernard was an incredibly organized and efficient man. He planned even the most mundane activities in exacting detail. His obsessive-compulsive disorder made him Georgia Life's most efficient actuary. As a person, his defectively wired personality made him a walking, talking, ticking time-bomb. He obscured his horribly flawed, psychopathic evil by cultivating a harmless, nondescript public persona.
Bernard fixed himself a healthy dinner of vegetables and chicken. After scouring the kitchen to pristine perfection, he sat down at his desk and booted up his computer. Bernard Kingston loved computers; they fit his personality perfectly. The machine was just an undemanding lump of plastic and metal until he brought it to live. Then at his command it became a number crunching automaton, not unlike Bernard himself.
Bernard connected to his Internet service provider and logged onto his e-mail account. The very first message in his queue caused that breathless lurching of his heart again:
To: bkinston@galifeco.ne
From: melissa@dotcom.con
Subject: Welcome aboardMr. Kingston,
Jake and I are pleased and excited that you have chosen to join our team.
I look forward to meeting you next week. Please call Jenny Tutone at
1-800-867-5309 for your complimentary tickets to our gala dinner with
Georgia Democrats and our guest of honor: former President Jimmy Carter.
Jenny will also provide you with a pass and particulars for our hospitality suite
where I will meet with volunteers before the dinner.
Best Wishes,
Melissa Thornton Turner
Bernard stared at the e-mail note rapturously; its simple elegance reconfirmed that he had finally made the right choice for his mate. Only his dearly departed sainted mother could have composed better. Bernard's brow furrowed in displease as he thought of the other three women he had mistakenly chosen over the past twelve years. Harlots -- the lot of them; their vile bodies were currently decomposing in the moist black earth of his retreat near Stone Mountain. Still annoyed at his previous mistakes and the amount of effort they had caused him, Bernard replaced his keyboard dustcover and began his bedtime preparations routine.
While Jake worked his tail off during the ten day special session, Melissa started the next grand opening road trip without him. Jake was fully engaged in the hearings on the Fiscal Year 1992 defense budget. He did not let party politics or his own ambitions get in the way of crafting a sane and workable package. Jake lobbied for more training funds, increased special operations capabilities, monies for down-sizing and consolidation of missions, interoperability between the various services' communications gear, and the elimination or slow down of major weapon systems purchases. The research materials that he provided his colleagues, coupled with the continued fall of the USSR and former WARSAW Pact communist governments, helped him gain support from other committee members. The Secretary of Defense was apoplectic at the committee and was lobbing for expansion of the budget when it came up for a floor vote.
Melissa arrived in Atlanta on Thursday, August the second, at eleven in the morning. Traveling with her were Sven and Erika Johansson and Sean Murphy. Sven was along to tweak the media while Sean was overseeing security for Melissa. Sean was almost sixty years old but he was as sharp and alert as ever. Sean arranged local security in advance for every location they visited. In Atlanta, Peach State Security was handling protective services and ground transportation for Melissa. Melissa also had Erika, a highly trained and heavily armed Amazon in a sexy Giorgio Armani business suit.
Melissa and her entourage went straight from the airport to the campaign headquarters. She spent an hour talking to the paid staffers and volunteers and toured the facility. She was heartened that there had been a surge in volunteers and visitors. From the campaign office, Melissa went to the CNN headquarters for an interview with Catherine Crier on Crier's CNN news show Inside Politics. Melissa was not the programs first choice, Jake was. Jake, however, was not about to appear on a show owned by anyone dating Jane Fonda. Jake had an abiding hatred for 'Hanoi Jane' that spanned two lifetimes. Not that his opinion of Ted Turner was much higher. To Jake, Ted represented the bad in having too much money.
While Melissa was establishing a friendly rapport with the former Judge Crier, Jake was greeting the newest member of his staff.
"Hiya' Debs, I hear you knocked them dead up there in Beltsville," Jake said as they hugged.
Debbie had just finished the eleven week Secret Service Academy program in Beltsville, Maryland. Becoming a Secret Service Agent was all Debbie Turner's idea. She had wanted a new challenge and Jake was going to need a protective detail before long so it was a natural fit. Jake had to pull a few strings to get her an age waiver but her scores on the physical fitness test belayed any doubts about her ability to handle the job. Debbie had finished at the top of her class. She had both impressed and frightened the cadre at the academy by her ruthless efficiency. They agreed to a man that whomever she protected was in excellent hands unless they pissed her off. Jake made her a legislative aide to give her something to do when they were not in public.
Gail took Debbie to get her set up and introduced around and Jake returned to his paperwork. Jake idly wondered if he should put out advanced warning about his sister to all the ladies' men. Debbie was a very attractive woman and sexy as hell. The skirt chasers were going to be on her like hungry dogs on a meat truck. He thought about it for a minute then laughed to himself. Nah, the word would be much more effective coming from the first guy she had a run in with. He was still chuckling when his intercom buzzed.
"Jake, your sister is here to see you," his receptionist said.
"I was just talking to her," Jake said in exasperation. "Tell her she doesn't have to go through you every time she wants to see me."
Jake had his head down reading when the door opened.
"You have more than one sister, Jacob," Angie said.
Jake looked up startled; both Angie and Julie were standing in front of his desk. He jumped up and hugged them both.
"This is a nice surprise. What brings you two to DC?"
"I have a meeting at the Federal Trade Commission tomorrow," Angie said. "Julie just wanted to come visit."
"This is great, Debbie just started working here today; what say we grab her and go to lunch."
His sisters agreed with his plan and in short order they were seated in the Rayburn Cafeteria munching on sandwiches and salads. Jake noticed right away that more people than usual stopped at his table to say hello. There was nothing like three good looking women to make a guy more popular, he thought. All three of his sisters did look very fine. You could tell they were related but each had an entirely different appearance. Debbie was buff and tanned; Angie was elegantly tall and willowy; and Julie was curvy and feminine. Jake had a mouthful of roast beef sandwich when his sisters started on him.
"Jacob, you need to take care of Julie, and you need to do it tonight," Debbie bluntly stated.
Before Jake could say anything, Angie chimed in, "You know I'm a late convert to the O'Buckley myth Jacob, but after all I've seen, I believe the traditions are stronger and more important for us women. I know you are planning to abdicate the title to Patrick. I think that's the right thing for the future -- but you can't leave Julia hanging for three more years."
"I understand what you are saying and I'm hesitant only because of our age difference; I'm old enough to be your father, Julie."
All three women cracked up in laughter at once.
"As if that's a valid argument," Debbie said. "Julia is one of us; she's more mature now than you were at twenty-one."
Jake could not refute that. He groaned inwardly at the thought that his daughter was on the verge of becoming one of these smart, independent, and assertive women. He looked across the table at Julie.
"You haven't said anything, Julie, what do you really want. Don't let your sisters talk you into anything you'd rather avoid."
"You know no one is talking me into anything, Bro. I told you what I wanted three months ago, and I told you I wouldn't let you put me off. I don't think you understand the strength of this O'Buckley attraction on us women. It's powerful enough that it makes relationships with other men nearly impossible. I'm not giving up on this -- and I'm like Mom, when I make up my mind on something it is going to happen."
Jake was well aware of his mother's tenacity. He was also out of arguments, so he succumbed to the inevitable.
"Say, Julie, what do say we go out tonight?"
"It would be my pleasure, Jacob," she replied with a smile.
That same evening in Atlanta, Melissa was motivating the troops in the hospitality suite at the Peachtree Plaza. Melissa had a keen memory for names (unlike her hapless husband) and quickly put the volunteers at ease. She was working the room like a trooper when she met up with a tall, thin man with pale hair and eyes. He wore a name tag that said 'Bernard'.
"Mr. Kingston?"
Bernard nodded, awed that she knew his name. Melissa stuck out her hand.
"I'm Melissa Turner, we are so happy you are joining us."
Bernard bent formally at the waist over her hand.
"It is a pleasure, Mrs. Turner."
Melissa leaned toward him and in a stage whisper said, "Mrs. Turner is my mother-in-law, why don't you call me Melissa."
"Only if you call me Bernard," Kinston replied.
Melissa enjoyed Bernard's old world manners and he was a handsome enough man. Never one not to meddle, she gestured Erika over. When Erika arrived, Melissa made introductions; Bernard turned to Erika and repeated the courtly bow.
"Erika, why don't you fill Bernard in on what we are looking for while I mingle? I'll be right back."
Ah, the old bait-and-switch, thought Bernard. Well, if it got him closer to Melissa, he would play along. Bernard turned toward Erika and put on the charm. Bernard, like most sociopaths, could be incredibly charming. Before long, Erika was putting out her best body gloss, holding his arm, and making frequent eye contact. Melissa smiled when she saw them standing close together talking. She made a mental note to have Sean run a check on the guy; it never hurt to be cautious.
Gail was able to scare Jake up a couple of tickets to a concert at the Kennedy Center that evening. Julie was not that excited about going to a concert until Jake told her who was playing. She squealed and jumped up and down when she learned he was taking her to see Lou Gramm and Foreigner. Jake knew she like the group as much as he did. What Jake did not know was that Julie thought of him every time she heard Urgent played.
The band was in excellent form that night and Julie had a terrific time as she bopped in the aisle next to their seats. Jake enjoyed the show twice as much because of the good time Julie was having. After the concert, they ate at a small restaurant in Georgetown before heading home.
They arrived back at Jake's apartment at eleven. Julie's suitcase was already in Jake's guestroom from earlier; Angie was bunking with Debbie in the visitors' apartment across the hall. Julie excused herself to freshen up so Jake took a quick shower. Jake was sitting on the sofa, Foreigner in the CD player when Julie walked into the room. Jake stood up when she made her entrance. Julie was wearing a long cream-colored silk negligee that looked slightly familiar to him. The gown covered her completely yet molded itself to her plush curves like a second skin. Julie's hair was artfully tousled in the style popularized by supermodels like Claudia Schiffer. Julie was a lot of woman.
"Wow, Julie, you are too beautiful for words," he said.
Julie stepped into his open arms, "Thanks Jacob, Mom loaned me the nightie. She said it had always brought her good luck."
Jake kissed her soundly.
"I think it's me who is having the good luck tonight."
Julie shivered as they kissed. Jake pulled back to make sure she was ok.
"Wow," she said, "I had a small orgasm from just kissing. I think this is going to be some night."
Jake picked her up and carried her to the bedroom. Julie kept her arms around his neck as he laid her on the bed, pulling him down with her. They kissed some more and Julie did her little shiver thing a couple of more times. When Jake moved a hand to her breast, she arched her back to lodge the large orb tighter into his grip. She broke the kiss and looked at him, her violet eyes smoky with arousal.
"Angie told me that we Buckley women were hot-natured by genetic design but I never believed her. I have never enjoyed anything physical with a boy, and with girls it is only marginally better. But you set me on fire big brother; when you kiss me like that I feel it all the way to my toes."
Jake answered her by nibbling down her neck. He pulled the gown's spaghetti strap off her shoulder and licked across the top of her breast. Julie smelled fresh and clean with just a hint of Obsession wafting from her cleavage. She moaned softly as he uncovered and nibbled on her breast.
"Wait a minute," she said as she pushed him back. "Let me get out of this negligee so you can get to the good parts easier."
Julie hoped off the bed and pulled the straps off her shoulders. The bodice of the gown caught on her erect nipples momentarily before sliding down to her hips. She pushed the gown down and off then dived back on the bed before Jake could really look at her. She solved that problem for him by lying on the coverlet gloriously and unabashedly nude.
"Now you, big boy," she said throatily.
Jake checked her out while he disrobed. She was built similar to her mother but was even better upholstered. Her breasts were large and tipped with small pink nipples; her waist was narrow so that her smallish hips flared out nicely; while her legs were long and shapely. Julie had not shaved or trimmed her pubic hair but her bush was not overly thick. All-in-all she was the total package; she could be the cover model for the Sports Illustrated annual swimsuit edition.
Julie's eyes widened when Jake shucked his boxer-briefs and his engorged phallus sprung free.
"Mmmm, that's as nice as I imagined it would be, but even bigger, I can't wait to have it in me," she said.
Jake climbed onto the bed and lay next to her.
"All in good time, Miss Greedy, I get to play some first."
Jake ran his hand gently across her chest and recaptured her breast. Julie reached down and took his shaft gently in her hand. She sighed as he caressed her.
"Nothing has ever felt as good to me as your touch, Jacob," she whispered huskily.
"And we are just getting started," he said, as he swooped his head down to capture one of her small turgid nipples.
Julie arched her back again and grabbed the back of his head. When he sucked her nipple into his mouth she gasped. Jake paid homage to her breasts for a few minutes then started working his way south. Julie squirmed and wiggled when he reached her sparse thatch. Jake took her hands and guided them down the juncture of her thighs; she took the hint and held her lips open for his questing tongue.
"Yes," she cooed as he laved her slit with a broad swipe of his tongue.
She quaked with a stronger little climax as he licked even though he avoided contact with her large erect clit. She tasted almost as sweet as Melissa, he thought, as he lapped up her copious juices. She was also one of the most responsive women he had ever been with. Everything he did caused her to jerk and whine in pleasure. When he finally took her pink, pinky tip sized clit between his lips, her hips slammed up and she grabbed him by the back of the head. She grunted through her clinched teeth and went rigid as a massive orgasm swept through her. Her gushing juices soaked his face as he tried to pull back.
"Don't stop," she squealed. "Don't ever stop."
He didn't. Jake lost count of her orgasms after four or five, marveling at her responsiveness. She was still soaring from her last one when he slid up her body and poised himself at her entrance. Her eyes opened when he moved, her pupils were dilated and she was smiling blissfully.
"Do I need protection?" he asked.
She shook her head and spread her legs wider. Jake lined his shaft up with her lips and pressed forward. His earlier exploration had shown him her hymen was only partially intact. When he ripped through her remaining maidenhead she tensed and winced. He stopped to let her adjust then pushed forward again, this time her hips rose up to meet him. She was tight, but so wet he had little trouble establishing a rhythm. She matched him stroke for stroke, her movements becoming syncopated as she orgasmed. Her hot slick channel clamped down on him in a series of undulating waves each time she came. She mewed and moaned out her pleasure as Jake increased the speed of his thrusts. He was not going to be able to hold on much longer.
"I'm getting close," he panted.
"Give it to me - fill me up," she urged.
When he came, she had her strongest orgasm yet; she arched her hips up and gurgled with joy as his shaft pulsed in her.
They collapsed back onto the bed, their bodies covered with a slick sheen of sweat. Jake rolled off her onto his back. When she caught her breath, she snuggled into the crook of his arm.
"That was everything I hoped it would be and then some," she said contentedly.
Jake nodded in agreement. What she lacked in skill she sure made up for in enthusiasm.
In Atlanta, Bernard Kingston arrived home at midnight. He was smiling as he performed his nightly rituals. Tonight had been about the most enjoyable evenings of his life. By paying attention to her big assistant, he had been able to spend most of the evening in Melissa's company. As a plus, the big Nordic girl proved to be charming company as well. Bernard almost regretted being such a gentleman because Erika had made it obvious that his attentions would not be unwelcome. But he had bigger plans and he knew that his show of gentlemanliness tonight would make a good impression. Time for all that later.
Bernard went to his computer and logged onto Data on Time. He typed
Melissa Thornton Turner in the search box and continued his research
into his new love objective. DOT had reams of information on Melissa,
more than she would have liked to be available to the public, he was
sure. Bernard leaned back and closed his eyes as mental images of
Melissa and him together flitted by. He had done good work tonight and
had promised to telephone Erika next week. He was certain they would
investigate his background. For him that was a good thing. They would
discover that he was as pure as the driven snow and that he was wealthy
to boot. He would feign interest in Erika to get into Melissa's inner
circle. Who knows, once Candidate Turner was out of the way, he might
have them both as adoring vessels to bear his children.