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Back Fleeced Save as PDF
Chapters (84)
  1. Acknowledgments
  2. FLEECED
  3. 1
  4. 2
  5. 3
  6. 4
  7. 5
  8. 6
  9. 7
  10. 8
  11. 9
  12. 10
  13. 11
  14. 12
  15. 13
  16. 14
  17. 15
  18. 16
  19. 17
  20. 18
  21. 19
  22. 20
  23. 21
  24. 22
  25. 23
  26. 24
  27. 25
  28. 26
  29. 27
  30. 28
  31. 29
  32. 30
  33. 31
  34. 32
  35. 33
  36. 34
  37. 35
  38. 36
  39. 37
  40. 38
  41. 39
  42. 40
  43. 41
  44. 42
  45. 43
  46. 44
  47. 45
  48. 46
  49. 47
  50. 48
  51. 49
  52. 50
  53. 51
  54. 52
  55. 53
  56. 54
  57. 55
  58. 56
  59. 57
  60. 58
  61. 59
  62. 60
  63. 61
  64. 62
  65. 63
  66. 64
  67. 65
  68. 66
  69. 67
  70. 68
  71. 69
  72. 70
  73. 71
  74. 72
  75. 73
  76. 74
  77. 75
  78. 76
  79. 77
  80. 78
  81. 79
  82. 80
  83. 81
  84. About the Author

He looked up at her, smiled slightly, and motioned for her to sit down. He was bald, with a large round face, smooth clear skin, and watery blue eyes. His clothes looked like they had seen better days, but he was wearing a shirt and tie. From the corner of her eye, Georgette could see that he was sporting a pair of thick-soled white sneakers.

A perfect target, she thought. Surely he has a few shekels that he can do without.

“Sit down, my beauty,” he insisted.

This is better than I thought, Georgette mused. “Thank you, sir,” she said.

“What’s a lovely girl like you doing all alone?”

Georgette batted her eyes as she sat on the impossibly uncomfortable bench. “I just moved into town, and I don’t know many people yet.” She leaned in so he could smell her perfume.

He sneezed, waved his hands, and pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. “Sit back, my beauty. Sit back. Your perfume isn’t good for my throat.”

“Your throat?”

“I was a singer in my day. Performed everywhere. Now I was thinking, if you give me a few hundred bucks a week, I’ll teach you to sing and have you on Broadway in five years. I can still hit middle C, you know.” He opened his mouth and belted out several notes as Georgette jumped up and ran out of the restaurant. On her way, she heard one of the busboys yell, “Cool it, Mr. C. We told you no singing in here.”

Out on the street, Georgette struggled to regain her composure. My planets must not be in alignment, she thought. Just then her cell phone rang. Let it be Blaise, she thought.

“Hello … oh Lydia, what a surprise … Another party tonight?” Georgette’s pulse quickened. “How nice of you … Is there anything I can do to help? I’m actually off today … No? … Well, maybe I’ll get there early … I’d love to talk to Maldwin about signing up for his next butler class … Yes, really … Okay, see you later.”

Georgette put the phone back in her purse and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe I can get back in Nat’s apartment tonight, she thought. As she hurried down the block, she passed a coffee shop. Stopping in her tracks, she turned around and went back. You never know, she thought, as she opened the door and made a beeline for the seat next to an old man at the counter. My work is never done.

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