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From: "Bill Morgan" <morg105829@hotmail.com>
Subject: {Morgan} Repost: Susan Jennings, 3 of 7; M/F Rom
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Author's note: If you are looking for wall-to-wall sex, look elsewhere.
This book is a romance with a military setting. Beyond that, the sex is
comparable to - or less than - what one would find in almost any work of
popular fiction.
Permission is granted to post on any free site, as long as the copyright
statement is included. Please advise the author of any such postings.
This story - or novella - was posted earlier in the year. Subsequently
I've learned more about posting in the interest of downloading and
readability. This is Chapter 3 of 7.
Comments are welcome and encouraged. Please address me at
morg105829@aol.com.
Susan Jennings
Copyright by Morgan 1992, 1998; All rights reserved.
Chapter 3
The next morning Rick initiated a pattern that he continued for the
following week. He just continued to heat more chicken soup and feed it
to her. Between times she slept, often with him in the bed beside her.
Although it might have been his imagination, Rick felt that Susan slept
much more soundly when he was lying next to her. He came to love the
feeling as Susan would almost awaken, rub her body against his, and then
relax again back into a deep sleep when she found he was still beside
her.
After nearly a week spent in bed Susan started to take an interest in
her surroundings and Rick thought it was time to try to find out what
had happened. He had ordered some clothing for her from a mail-order
house and she was now sitting opposite him at the breakfast table
wearing a blue flannel bathrobe with her monogram on it that he had
bought for her. Rick was pleased to see that her color had improved
significantly. She seemed to adore her new robe.
"Sue, where have you been for the last four years?" he asked softly.
She tried a little smile and replied, "I really don't know. I guess I
started to figure out where I was a couple of years ago. Between that
point and the time we were together, there are just brief episodes I can
dimly recall. For example, I think I was court- martialed. I must have
been, because I was dismissed from the service and that can only happen
in a general court-martial. I can't remember anything about it. I...
I've been subsisting. It seems there were a few antiwar groups that
wanted to make me a heroine but they found I wasn't antiwar." She
smiled faintly and added, "As a matter of fact, I was pretty
bloodthirsty."
She looked at him and changed the subject, speaking very softly. Her
words almost killed him: "Mr. Jackson, could... could I be your... maid?
I realize I don't know very much about housekeeping and I certainly
can't do very much yet, but if I could just stay here with you, as soon
as I'm able, I'll take care of the apartment and cook and... and...
perform any services you might want." She looked at him with an
intensity that almost made him cry as she repeated, "ANY SERVICES I AM
CAPABLE OF PERFORMING. Do you understand?"
Rick's heart turned over. Being very careful with his choice of words
and recognizing the sense of total defeat in the girl he changed the
subject and asked, "How did you find me, Susan?"
"I saw your picture in the paper a few months ago. I just hoped you
might remember me. How did you find me, Mr. Jackson? The last few days
have been just a vague blur."
Again his heart lurched. "Susan, you found me. But I think you just
answered a question I had. Do you remember talking to me on the
telephone?" She just shook her head, no. "I didn't think you did," he
continued. "You did, though. You sounded like you were just reciting
lines and weren't hearing my replies. I guess you weren't, were you?"
Again she shook her head. Then she gave him a very small but very warm
smile. "Thank you, Mr. Jackson, for the beautiful bathrobe. It feels
so good against my skin. It's the very first clothing of my very own
I've had since I was kicked out of the Navy. I'll pay you for it as
soon as I can earn some money." Again Rick's heart turned over when she
continued, "Of course, it's so much nicer than anything I would have
bought for myself. It's much too nice for a maid to be wearing."
Rick excused himself and went to the telephone. First he called his
office and asked for his security chief. "Brad, this is Jackson. I
know you have great connections in Washington. I need a fast check run.
There was a general court-martial in the Pacific - I'm guessing it was
between three and four years ago, and probably in Subic Bay. The
defendant was Lieutenant Susan Jennings, U.S. Navy Nurse Corps. She was
convicted and dismissed from the service. I want everything you can get
on the trial and its outcome, and I want it fast. Understand? Call me
at home as soon as you get anything at all." The instructions were
acknowledged and he hung up.
Then he placed another call. A voice answered, "Cameron residence."
Rick identified himself and asked to speak to Ginny. Moments later she
was on the phone. Ginny Cameron was far better known to the movie-going
public as Marcia Matthews. Now rated the top female box-office star in
Hollywood, she had just received an Academy Award nomination for her
latest film, a motion picture that had been financially backed by Rick
Jackson. She had first contacted Rick nearly three years earlier as a
result of a search she had been conducting. She, too, had been
desperately trying to find Susan Jennings. Subsequently, Rick had made
tens of millions of dollars backing two of her films.
"Hi Rick! What's new?" she asked brightly.
"Ginny, are you still... friendly... with that overpriced meat cutter?"
He could actually hear her grin over the phone. "If you are referring
to Dr. Michael Chapman, Fellow of the American Academy of Plastic
Surgery, the answer is yes. Why? Did you crack up one of your fancy
sports cars? Need a little repair work on your face, perhaps?"
Rick realized with a start that he had already relaxed. He realized it
was the effect Ginny always had on him. Moreover, he realized that her
incredible personal warmth which came across in her films was, along
with her incredible beauty, substantially responsible for her motion
picture successes.
"It's not for me," he replied. "Do you remember a girl named Susan
Jennings? I think I heard you mention her name once or twice."
There was an immediate stillness on the line. When Ginny spoke again it
was in a hushed and near-reverent tone. "Rick, did you find her?"
"Honey, believe it or not, she found me. And Ginny, she's really in
very bad shape. She needs help... an awful lot of it." He took a deep
breath and continued, "Look, I've been teasing you about Mike for a long
time but I know he's the very best there is at what he does. I know
he's booked for fifteen years in advance, but do you think you could get
him to take a look at Susan and try to work her in? Money *is not* an
issue!"
Ginny remained silent for a few moments longer. When she finally spoke
it was almost as if she hadn't heard a word Rick had said other than
Susan's name. "How soon can I see her?" she asked in the same reverent
tone.
"Could I bring her over to your place sometime today? Would that be
possible?" he asked.
"Could you bring her over right now?" she replied. Again, there was the
same strange voice tone.
"We'll be over in less than an hour, if that's convenient," he said.
"Any time would be convenient," she responded and then hung up.
Returning to the kitchen he found Susan still sitting patiently at the
kitchen table. "Susan," he said, "This apartment is really kind of
small - there's only one bedroom. But I know a big movie star named
Marcia Matthews who might be able to use you as a maid if you're
willing. Are you?"
His heart sank as he saw the light in her eyes suddenly die. Then she
smiled very weakly and said, "Thank you, Mr. Jackson, for caring. I'll
try to do my very best for Miss Matthews. When can I meet her and how
do I get to her house?"
Suddenly Susan's face fell. "Could I borrow some money? Maybe five
dollars? I'll ask Miss Matthews to send it back to you from my very
first paycheck. It's... It's a little hard getting around in Hollywood
using public transportation."
Suddenly she began to weep in a hopeless-sounding fashion. He tried to
take her into his arms, but she wouldn't let him. She just sat upright
on the kitchen chair with tears streaming from her eyes. Looking
straight ahead, she said, "Sir, that won't be enough. I need a lot of
money. Maybe even fifty dollars. I have no clothes. I looked around,
but I guess you threw out what I was wearing when you met me. All I
have is this beautiful bathrobe." She immediately thought about
returning it to the store and using the money to buy a blouse and skirt.
But then she realized that it was monogrammed and was probably not
returnable. To her the problem was insoluble. Fifty dollars was more
money than she had had in the entire previous year.
Meanwhile Rick was close to tears again. The pain and humiliation that
this girl had suffered and was still experiencing was inhuman. Leaving
the room for a moment, he picked up some things and returned with three
large boxes in his arms. "I think you'll find something here, Susan.
All of these things are yours."
Susan opened the first box and found brand-new women's clothing - mostly
sporty things - in the smallest sizes available. Dropping the robe to
the floor, she put on a blouse and skirt. Even though it was the
smallest size the company made, the skirt almost fell off her body. She
was slim-hipped, but all that showed were her very sharp hip bones.
After he located a couple of safety pins Susan was able to pin the sides
enough for it to stay on.
Then she looked up at him with tears streaming from her eyes. "There's
no way I can thank you, sir. No way at all! These are very expensive,
I know. Far more expensive than anything I would ever think of buying.
May I return some so I won't owe you quite so much money? I won't ever
be able to wear them all, anyway, and it will take me years to earn the
money I owe you already."
Rick could scarcely see through the tears that suddenly clouded his
eyes. Instead he helped her pack a couple of small bags with the things
she thought she might need and then carried them down to his car. After
helping her in - and getting a curious glance from Susan in the process
- he got behind the wheel and headed over to Beverly Hills. Soon they
reached the gates of Ginny's estate. Rolling up the driveway, he
stopped at the gracious entry.
As he got out, the front door opened. It was Ginny who stood waiting as
he helped Sue out of his car. Tears were rolling unchecked down her
cheeks in twin streams as the girl was helped up the steps. Susan
extended her hand and said, "Good morning, Miss Matthews. Mr. Jackson
said you might consider hiring me as a maid." Susan was dumfounded when
the beautiful woman ignored her outstretched hand and instead took her
into her arms and just held her close. Sue looked into the woman's eyes
and a light of recognition went on in her brain. She was looking into
such familiar brilliant emerald- green eyes and seeing hair that was a
glorious shade of auburn. "You aren't... You can't be... Ginny?"
At the sound of her name, Ginny Cameron completely lost control and
started to bawl like a baby. Susan could feel her head nod as she just
wept uncontrollably. Susan wrapped her arms around the woman and tried
to comfort her.
This caused Ginny to forcibly pull herself together. "Susan Jennings,
you haven't changed a bit! You're still trying to protect me and
comfort me, aren't you?"
Embarrassed, Susan just shook her head. "No, ma'am, Miss Matthews."
With her face falling she added, "I do apologize for the familiarity,
though. Maids certainly don't hug their employers." Then, with a
small, very shy little smile she added, "But, Miss Cameron, you look
simply exquisite! I'm so very happy for you!"
It was only through an enormous effort of will that Ginny did not
dissolve into tears again. Putting her arm under Susan's she escorted
her through the house and out onto the pool terrace. There a tall, very
handsome man was standing waiting for them.
"Susan," Ginny said, "I would like you to meet Mike Chapman, a very dear
friend of mine." Looking at him tears started to flow as she said,
"Mike, I don't know how to introduce Susan to you." Her voice broke and
she began to cry again. "Darling, but for Susan I would have been dead
four years ago. What can I possibly call her?"
Susan extended her hand and said diffidently, "How do you do, Mr.
Chapman. I'm very pleased to meet you."
Mike knew something of Susan's background and so was watching her
closely. As a result, he was able quickly to grab her the instant he
saw her knees start to buckle. Helping her to a chair, he took a glass
of water and held it for her while she sipped. Looking up at him
gratefully, she softly added, "Thank you, sir. I guess I'm not as
strong yet as I thought I was." But then with a smile she continued,
"But I'm sure to be ready to go to work as Miss Matthews maid in just a
day or so."
Mike's heart twisted listening to this poor tortured girl. As a plastic
surgeon he was expert at judging bone structure and unchangeable
physical characteristics. Looking at her closely he instantly concluded
that Susan should be a very beautiful woman. He said, "Susan, I'm a
plastic surgeon. Ginny tells me you have some scars that should be
tended to. May I examine you now, please?"
Again his heart was wrenched by her reply: "Of course, sir, but it's
really very premature. I had them looked at in a city hospital once and
it will take years and years for me to save that kind of money..."
Suddenly her eyes widened and she asked, "Are you Dr. Michael Chapman?"
He nodded and she just shook her head steadily. "Thank you, sir, but
no. I've heard of you - I guess everyone has. You are the very best in
the profession. I couldn't earn enough in my lifetime to pay your fee
to remove even one of the scars. I am... I was... a nurse. The scars
are really pretty bad." Then she brightened and continued, "But they
don't show at all, so there's really no need to bother."
Mike decided to try a different tack. "Young lady, you are coming with
me to a bedroom to be examined. I cannot accept no for an answer.
Ginny introduced me as a friend. Actually, I am her live-in lover and
am slowly breaking down her resistance to the idea of marrying me. Your
reappearance will certainly help. However, if I don't at least get to
look at you, I get kicked out on the street. Since I can't live without
being able to make love to Ginny's glorious body, I'm afraid it's either
you or me. And I'm bigger than you are. Now let's go!"
He helped her to a spare bedroom and watched as she took off her
clothes. Rick and Ginny followed them into the room but stayed in the
background while Mike took out a pair of magnifying eyeglasses and
carefully examined Susan's scars. Then he pulled down the bed covers,
motioned for her to get in, and then gently tucked her into the bed.
When the three reached the terrace, Mike breathed a heavy sigh. "That
is as bad as anything I have ever seen in my life," he said. "And that
includes pictures in the medical books, as well. What happened?"
Although she was quietly crying Ginny looked up at him and said, "That
poor kid! Mike, those scars should be mine! We were both prisoners in
a North Vietnamese POW camp. We were ordered to assemble in the center
of the compound for some reason. I got up, but fell down again. I was
in pretty poor shape at the time. A guard was going to give me ten
lashes with his bullwhip. Before he could swing it, though, Susan
covered my body with her own. First, the guard gave her five lashes
across her back and then motioned for her to roll over."
She looked at him with her green eyes melting with tears and continued,
"Mike, she turned over and bridged her body over mine. Blood from the
cuts on her back was dripping onto me, but she held herself above me
with her arms and legs to keep from putting any weight on me. Can you
imagine?" Tears were pouring from her eyes as she continued, "I could
feel her shudder each time the whip cut into her body. When he
finished, the chief guard motioned towards a cross they had erected in
the yard. I suspect it was Black and his friends that set that one up.
At any rate, Susan saw the cross, smiled, and then gave me her shirt
saying she wouldn't be needing it anymore.
"They tied her to the cross in the morning. That afternoon Rick and his
men raided the camp. The last thing I saw was the cross standing bare
in the compound. Rick had already taken her down. It was the last time
I saw Susan Jennings until this morning."
She looked up at him with hope in her eyes, but with tears streaming
down her cheeks and said, "Mike, if you will help that girl, I will do
absolutely anything you ever want. Anything! I will be completely
available to you for any purpose whatsoever." With her eyes gleaming
she asked, "Am I making myself clear, Mike? Absolutely anything!
Forever!"
Turning to Jackson she said, "Rick, how can I sign over all of my rights
to the films I've made to Susan? If it weren't for her I wouldn't be
here and there wouldn't be any. Can you do that for me?"
Rick just shook his head doggedly and said, "I could, Ginny, but I
won't. Believe me when I say she doesn't need money. She has all she
could possibly use. Mike, if you can make her whole... If you can even
make her a little better... There is no price I will not pay. I will
give you absolutely anything! Mike, for the love of God, please help
her," he cried.
Chapman had been looking from one to the other. Without responding
directly to either of them he picked up the phone and called his
hospital. He spoke to the hospital administrator and asked for the
surgery to be set up for a very special operation. He ordered his full
team to be ready for the first operation beginning the following
morning. Surgery could take as much as three successive days for the
first phase alone. After listening to the administrator's reply he
said, "Incidentally, there will be no fee either to me or to the
hospital. I'll pay the rest of the surgical team myself." The
administrator was obviously objecting, but Mike cut him off. "I have
generated more revenue for your damned hospital than all of your other
surgeons combined! And if you ever want me to operate there again, this
one is on you. Is that understood?"
He hung up the phone and glared at the other two. "As for you, young
lady, you can start preparing that trim little ass for our wedding.
Clear? We will be married in eight or nine months. Susan Jennings is
going to be your maid of honor whether you like it or not. And her
beauty is going to put yours in the shadows! When I get finished with
that girl, she'll be ready to be chosen Miss Universe. It could even me
Miss Nude Universe if there is such a thing."
Wheeling on Rick he continued, "And as for you, Jackson, I don't want to
hear one more fucking word about money. With the matrimonial concession
I just won from my friend here, I'm more than happy."
Looking back at Ginny who had brightened appreciably he added, "I'm
disappointed in you. My darling, I don't think you even knew it, but I
did. Susan Jennings has been the impediment to our getting married.
There is one thing that bothers me, though, and it bothers me a lot.
I'm almost certain there is still metal in her body. We're setting up a
CAT scan to find out for sure. But why is it still there? What
happened?"
Rick had been watching and listening carefully. Shaking his head in
frustration he said, "I don't know. I did learn this morning, though,
that Susan was court-martialed and dismissed from the service. How,
why, and on what charges, I have no idea. I'm still trying to find out.
I do know that it had to have been one of the greatest miscarriages of
justice in the entire military history of the United States. I am going
to get her case reopened as soon as possible."
After listening carefully to the two men Ginny reentered the
conversation. "I have an idea. First, though, Rick, could you see if
your guy has learned anything?"
Rick called his security chief again and asked, "Brad, what did you find
out?"
"Chief, you stepped into something. Is it important?" he asked.
"It is the most important thing in my entire life," he replied. "Now
what's the story?"
"The story is that there is no story," the man replied. "I can't find
out a single thing except that it apparently did happen about as you
suspected. Everything else is up for grabs. I can't even find out for
sure where it happened, although I'm pretty sure it was at Subic Bay.
But, Boss, these things are all supposed to be a matter of public
record." He paused for a moment and then continued, "I do know one
thing, though. The name, Susan Jennings, is poison! I started by
playing dumb. I said it was a standard prehiring check and was told not
to hire her - for *any* position! Christ, Chief, I never got that
strong a reaction when I was checking on a convicted murderer.
Something is very odd - and for my money, very wrong."
Rick told the other two what he had just learned. Looking at Ginny he
asked, "Okay, what's your idea?"
Looking at them very seriously she said, "I suspected something like
this. Let's face it, Rick. You and I have been turning over every rock
for years trying to find out anything. We couldn't even find out if she
was alive. Now you learn that any employment check gets a flat no.
Your security chief is right, too. Hell, there are convicted child
molesters driving school busses, so when an official government agency -
the United States Navy, yet! - says 'Hell, no!', who's going to argue?
Mike, what is your professional opinion of Susan's health right now?
Specifically, is she in shape to meet the press at a press conference?
Could she take the physical strain?"
Chapman swallowed hard, shook his head and said slowly, "That is the
toughest girl I have ever seen. The short answer is that I believe she
can. But I don't know if she would be willing. Why don't you ask her?"
Entering the house, Ginny went to the guest room where Susan was now
sound asleep and opened the curtains slightly to admit a little light.
When she sat on the edge of the bed, the slight additional weight was
enough to awaken the girl. As soon as Susan realized where she was, she
tried to scramble out of the bed. Cameron held her back and, as she
did, was appalled at how emaciated the girl was.
"How do you feel, Sue?" she asked softly. "And are you up to meeting a
few people this afternoon? And following my lead with them,
regardless?"
Susan just smiled and stretched. "Ginny, this bed is so utterly
delicious! And I feel so much better now. Pretty soon - tomorrow,
maybe - I'll be ready to go to work for you. But what would you like me
to do? I think I could be a pretty good lady's maid. I can bathe you
and help you dress and... and... help get you prepared to receive Dr.
Chapman." Her eyes sparkled as she continued, "I'll bet he's just great
with you in bed, isn't he?" Suddenly Susan reddened as she realized
what she had just said. In a subdued voice she finished, "Would you
like me to wear a uniform?"
Tears began to flow unchecked down Ginny's cheeks. With a shake of her
head she exclaimed, "I don't know what Rick Jackson told you or why!
But that's about enough of this ridiculous nonsense. You are my house
guest." She stopped, looked up at the ceiling and shook her head. "No,
that's not right, either. Let me say it differently: Susan, this place
and everything in it are yours. I will sign over my bank accounts to
you and give you everything I own. *You* work for *me*? The very idea
is ludicrous. What idiocy!" With green flame coming from her eyes Ginny
concluded, "Now, once and for all, knock off this shit and answer my
question. Do you feel able to meet with some people a little later this
afternoon?"
All the while Ginny had been speaking, Susan had just been steadily
shaking her head from side to side. When Ginny finished, she said, "You
can't be serious. The answer is that of course I will meet with your
friends. Ginny, I belong to you. I will do absolutely anything and
everything you ever ask of me. So the answer is, of course!
"Beyond that, we'll talk. But I will not accept charity. If you will
not allow me to work for you, I'll have to go back to the street."
Ginny was still sitting on the edge of the bed. Now the flow of tears
gave way to hopeless-sounding weeping. Susan, remembering the starving
girl in the POW camp who only hours away from death by starvation could
still joke, was shocked. With her eyes wide she asked, "What did I say,
Ginny? I didn't mean to hurt you. I've always tried as hard as I could
to protect you from any hurt. What did I do?"
Ginny just yanked the covers off Susan's emaciated body exposing the
still-very- prominent scars from the bullwhip. "You sure did, didn't
you!?" she cried. "Darling Susan, these scars should all have been
mine. Of course, it wouldn't have made much difference, because I would
have been dead, right? I could not have survived, could I?" Susan
started to shake her head when Ginny took her by the shoulders, shook
her and screamed, "Could I!?"
Susan, totally bewildered, just shook her head as she looked at her
dearest friend with tears streaming out of control down her cheeks.
"But you won't let me do anything for you, will you?" Ginny demanded.
"Nothing! All I hear is this... this *insanity*... about being my maid.
My maid, for God's sake! Susan Jennings, you don't seem to understand
that my life has value to me even if it has none for you. You gave me
my life, but you refuse to allow me the tiniest expression of my
gratitude. Jennings, you are just incredibly selfish! I just want you
to think about that."
With that Ginny stormed out of the bedroom slamming the door behind her.
As the door closed, Susan was still sitting on the bed with a totally
bewildered expression on her face as tears still flowed down her cheeks.
Ginny ran out on the terrace sobbing uncontrollably with tears running
unchecked down her cheeks. Mike Chapman took her in his arms and held
her close as she cried like her heart was broken. While he held her
close he saw Susan, now dressed, padding barefoot out on the terrace
after her. "What's wrong, my darling?" Mike asked softly with his mouth
almost in Ginny's ear. "What happened?"
Ginny's voice, although muffled by his shoulder, was still clear.
"Mike, I love that girl so damned much! Every time I look at her I want
to cry. I want to do everything for her, because I love her so much,
but she won't let me do anything! Nothing at all!" Then pulling away
from Chapman's shoulder she glared at Rick Jackson and demanded, "And
it's your fault, too, God damn it! Jackson, what was this idiocy of
Susan being my maid? She got the idea from you, you idiot! Now what am
I going to do?" she asked with her fists on her hips and green fire
streaming from her eyes in Rick's direction.
"Kick me in the ass, please?" Susan said softly from behind her.
Hearing her, Ginny spun around and saw Susan with her eyes wide and a
very sheepish little smile on her lips. She continued softly, "That's
something you could do. But please be careful. I'm so bony - there's
no padding left at all - that you would probably hurt your foot." With
a plaintive little smile she concluded, "Ginny, can you ever forgive
me?"
With an exasperated shake of her head Ginny gathered up the frail girl
and sat down beside her on a love seat. "There you go again!" she
complained. "Can *I* forgive *you*? Sue, please just say that you'll
stay here with me? I'm not making a film right now, and I have all
kinds of time. I will visit you in the hospital after Mike operates.
He has already scheduled two sets of operations."
Glaring at Susan she continued, "And right now he is so damned mad he
might carve his initials in both of us. I've never seen him as mad as
you made him this morning. You started it, too, when you said he
couldn't operate because he was the best and you couldn't afford him. I
offered him anything if he would operate," she said and then with a
little grin, "Even my no-longer-virginal body. Then your friend, Rick
Jackson, who, by the way, made Forbes top ten among the richest people
in the United States, said he could have anything at all."
Glaring at Susan she asked, "What do you suppose Mike replied?" Susan's
eyes were wide with wonder. She could only shake her head. "I think
his response was something like, 'Fuck you all!'" Ginny continued.
"He's doing it for no fee. Except one," she added with a little smile.
"I am going to marry him, but I was hoping to do that anyway. Now,
Susan Jennings, do you have any problem with Dr. Michael Chapman, FAAPS,
operating to remove those ugly scars?"
With a kaleidoscope of emotions racing across her face, Susan just
slowly shook her head and finally said, "Do you mean to say he was mad -
*at me*!"
Dr. Chapman spoke up. "You're damned right I'm mad at you. Of all the
stinking nerve! You save the life of the girl I love more than anyone
in the world - a girl I love more than life itself. A girl who wouldn't
marry me - and I'm not sure she even knows this herself - because she
was trying to find you. If Ginny Cameron is more important to me than
my life, you, Susan Jennings, are similarly more important to her. She
utterly adores you! And then you have the nerve to refuse to let me
operate because I'm too expensive. The hell I'm too expensive."
Wheeling around toward Rick he demanded, "Jackson, give me a dollar!"
Rick looked bewildered but gave Mike a dollar bill. "Okay," he said,
almost to himself. "Now you're prepaid. Jennings, you are a nurse. Do
you think ten cents a scar is too much? If you do, I'll refund the
difference." Glaring at her he demanded, "Well? What do you say?"
Susan could say nothing. All she did was continue to slowly shake her
head as if she were trying to clear it. Finally she said softly, "I
give up. I seem to be insulting people left and right this morning by
refusing help." With a very bright smile she continued, "So thank you,
Dr. Chapman. It would make me very happy for you to operate on me and
remove these scars." Her smile was the first real smile they had seen.
Now Susan's face just glowed with pleasure.
Returning the smile, Ginny picked up the phone. Reaching a studio
publicist, she announced a press conference at her estate for that
afternoon. Then she gave the woman a list of the media people she
wanted to have invited. When the publicist responded that there wasn't
enough time and, besides, she was booked for the afternoon, Ginny acidly
replied that it was fine because she wasn't invited, anyway. She
slammed down the phone and just glared at it.
Moments later it rang. The woman had called the studio front office in
a panic and the studio president was on the line for Marcia Matthews.
Ginny just passed the receiver to Rick while Susan watched in
bewilderment, not understanding anything that was going on. Taking the
phone Rick said, "Charley, this is Rick Jackson. You know who I am, I
hope. Now what's the problem?"
"Well, yes, sir. I certainly know the name," came the reply. "But what
do you have to do with Marcia Matthews?"
"I don't have very much to do with Marcia, Charley, but I have a great
deal to do with you." After a very slight but pregnant pause Rick
continued, "Who owns the studio, Charley?"
"Why... Why a conglomerate of some kind," the president stammered. "I
see a vice president of the company nearly every month. I think it's
called Arjay Enterprises, or something like that..."
"It's easy enough for you to check, Charley," Rick interrupted. "And
frankly, I'm surprised you haven't done it long before now. I would
think you would be more than mildly curious about who it is who's
signing your paychecks. If you did check, though, you would find that
Arjay is derived from initials... Mine! In other words, Charley, I
*own* the joint. Now what, exactly, did you want to speak to Marcia
Matthews about?"
"Well, sir, it's this press conference thing. I mean we try to humor
our big stars, but..."
"Charley, you are humoring *me*! If you don't, you're through,
effective immediately. In just a few minutes your replacement will be
taking over your office and he or she will. Am I making myself clear?"
Jackson demanded. After a momentary pause he continued, speaking almost
to himself, "You know, one of the nice things about owning the joint is
that I can make things happen once in a while. Now Marcia gave that
broad a list of people she wants to have out here this afternoon. I
certainly hope she took good and complete notes. Because, Charley, if
they are not all out here, you will *both* be looking for jobs." After
another pause he concluded, "You know, I think today would be a good day
for you and your friend to call in your chits. ALL OF THEM!
Understood?" With that he slammed down the receiver.
Susan's eyes were wide and she was shaking her head. "Richard Jackson,
you were terrible! You terrified that poor man. I have never seen you
act mean to a living soul before, but you were awful!"
"He's not poor," Rick replied with a grin. "I pay him half-a-mil a year
plus bonuses. On the other hand, your auburn-haired friend here has
made almost $75 million for me in the last year alone. Given a
choice... That's irrelevant, though. Sue, you are more important to me
than life itself. No one - no one - is going to get in the way of you
receiving all the help you need."
Then with a wry grin he continued, "Besides, you haven't taken the
trouble to get to know me very well." Looking at her with love in his
eyes he said, "Do you realize you have only known me for about four
weeks - total! And that has been spread over more than four years."
The four sat on the pool terrace and discussed arrangements for the
afternoon press conference. Before they got started in their talk Rick
was on the phone to his security chief who gave him the information he
was looking for before the press conference opened. While he was
talking, Mike Chapman was studying Susan carefully and began to feel
better. She had reflected on the things both Rick and Ginny had said to
her and already she was feeling better. To Mike she seemed to blossom
like a flower in the sunshine.
But then Chapman kicked Ginny in the foot and whispered, "Just because
you've started to brag about now being big enough to start thinking
about a diet, there are others here who need to eat... and eat often!"
Ginny Cameron was chagrined. Going out to the kitchen she asked Maria,
her Mexican cook, to prepare huevos rancheros - a spicy Mexican egg
dish. Susan tried it and liked it very much. When Ginny asked her if
it wasn't too spicy, perhaps, Susan's response was that she was used to
eating anything edible and more than a few things that weren't. Maria
served Susan another small meal just before the press conference was due
to begin.
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