Free The Dimple Strikes Back by Lucy Woodhull Page B

just plain missing him. I have needs.
    Surprisingly Insightful Unknown Assailant: Of course you do. You’re a vibrant woman at the top of her game. And he should respect that he’s not meeting your individual desires.
    Samantha Lytton: That’s all I’m saying!
    Unknown Assailant puts a gentle hand on Samantha’s shoulder.
    Surprisingly Insightful Unknown Assailant: You two must hash through these things openly and honestly. It’s the only way for love to grow into a mutually beneficial life together full of faithful trust.
    Samantha nods, knowing that the Unknown Assailant is right.
    Samantha Lytton: So…do you know where Sam is?
    Surprisingly Insightful Unknown Assailant: Not really. I’m in charge of kidnapping wayward drug dealers, not art thieves.
    I had no choice but to attend my stunt rehearsal, so I threw my entire body and soul into pretend-clobbering the character in the museum gang who turns on the rest of us. I tossed him across the room and faux-punched him in the face, all the while fantasising that he was whoever had taken Sam. It only helped for as long as I moved. The moment I took a break, hell broke loose in my brain.
    I ping-ponged between terrified worry about Sam and palpable anger. Rage jettisoned through my veins and brought with it a sapping of my energy, a deflation of my spirit. My body hurt from a hurricane of emotions.
    I’d forgive Sam anything if I’d only find him and we could walk away together, safe.
    Until the next time it happened.
    My entire life seemed like playacting. During the day, I masqueraded in front of the camera, and at night, Sam and I impersonated June and Ward Cleaver. I’d left it to my beaver, and thinking with my lady parts had got me into his messes from the very beginning.
    After today, I’d have a couple of days off, plus the weekend before I needed to be back at the studio for rehearsals. I could do a trip to Bruges and back if nothing went wrong. Not knowing what else to do, I’d replied to the nasty email and told them I’d be in the city by tomorrow morning.
    “Ha!” I said out loud.
    Bruce, the guy I’d just faux-roundhouse-kicked, took my laugh as a sign of high spirits and replied, “Yeah! You’re pretty awesome for a wee thing,” in his adorable Irish accent.
    I managed an almost-human smile and retired to the edge of the dance studio to find my phone. After wrestling all day with whether or not to tell anyone about my situation, I knew I had to tell Ellen. I was supposed to meet her and Nicolette after work anyhow—no way could I hide such a thing from my soul mate. Two different people had asked me if I was sick today based on my Gollum-like complexion. Danny had been shooting concerned glances my way, but at least my gross appearance kept further kisses at bay.
    Only one more sequence to go through before I finished for the afternoon—Danny did his own stunts, but I was quite happy to let my stunt double, Missy, earn some cashola. Somehow, after fighting actual, bona-fide bad guys in reality, the fake version didn’t hold as much appeal.
    I mopped my glistening brow with a towel and plopped on the floor to text Ellen.
    Urgent situation. Pick me up at Trafalgar Dance Studio in an hour for a council of war.
    An almost instantaneous reply shot through time and space to berate me.
    WTF? I will kill that stupid thief of yours! I thought we’d dumped him! I have a nice girl all picked out for you. She enjoys eighties music…
    I actually managed a giggle at that. A head-swirling amount of relief nearly knocked me over to know that I always had one friend on my side.
    Not that I wanted to expose more people to danger. Shit! Shiiiiiiiiit. I slumped against the wall and replied.
    Someone may kill him for you. Just swing by—I need more brains to help me decide what to do. But I don’t want Nic to do anything…police-like.
    You can’t see me, but I’m rolling my eyes at you.
    Don’t hurt yourself.
    I finished the day and, by the close, had