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RINEHART 27

    liked having an assistant trotting alongside carrying her briefcase. Mostly I just sat quietly during hearings daydreaming and looking serious. Sometimes I handed her a glass of water or a pen. There wasn't anything else for me to do and since she didn't practice criminal or family law, the hearings we went to were pretty dull.
    I reached out and fumbled around the nightstand trying to reach the switch on the lamp.
    My hands fumbled a bit in the darkness before finding the old fashioned pull chain on the lamp and I gave it a tug. The light came on and blinded me momentarily. I squinted in the sudden whiteness and saw that the clock read just after midnight.
    What should I do? My mind raced and I felt anxious and scared again. I could tell them I was in a car accident and spent the last two days unconscious. A mental breakdown and amnesia? I could call the Employee Assistance Representative and plead a blackout and alcoholism. If anyone knew what it was like to work for Lillian, they would know that drinking was the least you could do to numb yourself to the forty hours a week spent in hell with her.
    Was it too late (or too early) to try and get a hold of Patty? My thoughts were fuzzy as I tried to do the time conversion between Portland and London. New York was five hours difference from London (or was it seven?) add three hours difference between the Eastern and Western time zones which meant it was five pm in Portland? Or was that five am? Eight am?
    Arrgh, I was so tired it was hard to think straight. Oh, well, Patty was a night owl anyway.
    There was no phone in the bedroom and so I quickly pulled the soft terrycloth robe I found on a hook on the back of the bathroom door over the long cotton nightshirt I found spread out on the bed when I got back from dinner with Gage. Things were super creepy here, with invisible staff and mysteriously appearing nightwear, but I tried not to think about that and focused on the pleasure of having something clean to wear that I hadn't slept in for two days.
    I opened the door and stepped quickly through the doorway. With a screech of alarm I fell over a large muscled lump that had been sitting on the floor in front of my bedroom door. I heard a deep, masculine grunt and a thud as my elbow cracked painfully against the edge of a table that had been sitting against the wall.
    The table fell over as well as the delicate, glass shaded lamp sitting on top of it. The reverberations of the glass shattering spread like a pebble in a pond and I wondered that no one came running to find out what all the racket was for.
    The lump on the floor cursed quietly and I was frozen in place wondering which way to go. The hallway was dark now. I could see a distant glow of light coming from the direction of the staircase and I tried to walk that way and screamed when a hand grabbed my ankle and I felt myself being pulled quickly backwards and to the side. Red glowing eyes leaned in close.
    Strong arms held me up, my bare feet dangling a foot above the floor and a muscled chest blocked my view.
    His hands were large and calloused and he breathed in deep as his face got closer to mine.
    I felt terror ratchet my heart rate up and I was trying to decide whether to scream or faint. He had a warm woodsy smell that I associated with the open, wild spaces surrounding Portland and his skin was burning hot where his hands held mine together pressed up against his hard chest.
    “Ma'am, is there anything I can do for you?” A deep voice grumbled from above me.
    I was speechless, trying to decipher his words. As my eyes adjusted I could see the man holding me up was gigantic. I don't mean fat, but huge. He would make Michael Jordan look short and Arnold Schwarzenegger scrawny by comparison. Even his head was large, with eyes, nose and mouth all in proportion to his mountainous body.

    WARLOCK’S BRIDE JENNIFER RINEHART 28

    “You could let go of me! What were you doing outside of my bedroom?” I