Free Blood Money by K. J. Janssen

bedroom. We can do the processing on my home computer. It’s better equipped. We’ll have complete privacy. I should have all the bells and whistles you’ll need. If not, we can dial them up, even connect to your system if we need to. What do you say?”
    â€œThat sounds like a great idea. I could be there around seven tonight.”
    â€œThat’s great, Sue. You know, since that’s dinner hour, why don’t you plan on having dinner here. I make a great lasagna and salad. Do you still like Chianti?”
    â€œYou bet I do. I’ll see you later tonight, then.”
    â€œGreat, I’ll see you at seven.”
    He finished his plate and signaled for a coffee refill. He added some cream, two packets of sweetener, stirred up the mixture and sat back to daydream a little about the coming evening. He couldn’t speak for her, but he certainly would welcome a serious relationship into his life about now, even one involving a three to four hour drive. He was nearing his mid-thirties. It was time to do some serious thinking about settling down. His business was certainly going great.
What the heck am I waiting for?
The longest serious relationship he ever had was his ill-fated engagement to Cynthia Turnquist. By the time he called off the engagement, some part of him had built a shield as a protection against being misled again.
That may have caused me to miss out on some good opportunities along the way. Maybe all that could change now, with Sue back in my life. Then again, maybe I’m expecting too much. She may just be looking for another mental challenge. Something to keep her brain synapses going
. There were an awful lot of maybes in the equation, so he decided it would probably be best to just play it by ear. Later that day, on the way home, Mark picked up everything he would need to make his mother’s lasagna recipe and a long loaf of Italian bread at Wal-Mart. Then he headed to the Arrow Wine store to pick up her favorite brand of Chianti. He planned to make everything as perfect as he possibly could.
    Sue arrived ten minutes early. She parked her silver Toyota Avalon in the driveway behind his Honda. Mark has a garage, but prefers to have his wheels right outside the back door. In reality, the motor for the automatic door opener is shot. He doesn’t follow the example that his father set of making needed repairs immediately and not letting them pile up. He used the side door of the garage whenever he needed to get anything out of there. The truth of the matter is that Mark is not very handy, and keeps forgetting to call someone in to make the repairs.
    Mark greeted Sue at the front door to help her with the overnight bag and attaché case. She wore light denim jeans and a gray University of Missouri hoodie. It really didn’t much matter what she wore, she always looked so great to him.
    â€œHere, let me take that,” he said as he reached to take the bag from her. “Come on in. I’ll put this in your room. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable in the living room while I tend to our meal.” He pointed to the great room off to the left of the main entrance way.
    â€œLet me freshen up a bit first. Which way?”
    â€œDown the hall; the first door on the right.”
    â€œI’ll just be a minute.”
    She went off in that direction as he closed the front door. He carried her bag to the guest room and headed to the kitchen to check the oven. The pre-heating was completed, so he put the lasagna in the oven and set the timer for forty minutes. The salad was already prepared and the Italian bread was sliced and covered with aluminum foil. He just needed to pop it into the oven for a few minutes while the food was cooling. He had the whole meal planned. There was time to sit and relax. Mark uncorked the Chianti, even went through the pretentious gesture of smelling the cork (as if he would know how it should smell).
    It’s funny about wine, and