Chapter 11: Magnussen

"Come on, I want to see how you look!"

I put the eyeliner down with a little rattle, nearly knocking it down off the counter. The townhouse had an official makeup table in the bedroom so I didn't have to stand and lean forward into a bathroom mirror.

"OK, Jim," I sang out. "what do you think?"

"Wow!" the blonde wig carried it off perfectly. It was pulled back at the sides so it wouldn't be in my face, I wore a heavy rhinestone necklace with matching stud earrings, the chest exposing shirt and green miniskirt. I didn't have green heels to wear so I opted for nude.

The makeup was a little over the top but Desiree tended to be more over the top in general, I'd applied a heavy winged eyeliner, green eyeshadow, and my face was contoured a shade too much. I had a small purse which contained my lipstick, the brightest shade of red I could find.

"That shade is almost obnoxious," Jim remarked. I did a little spin for him, loaded the purse with all the makeup I had used, then grabbed a clipboard with looseleaf paper and a medium sized appointment book. To make it look more official I wrote in made up birthdays, emphasized holidays, etc.

"Isn't it?" Jim reached over to my left ear and attached a Bluetooth wireless clip to my ear. He showed me a new cell phone which was in bright purple. Desiree had an obnoxious pink cell phone with made up contacts, only the one labeled JIM was real.

"Now we go over to the office building." Jim offered his arm, then we walked out of the house. "Hop in." he opened up the garage door, revealing my Accord. I passed him the key, he got into the driver's side and turned on the car.

"You drive stick?"

"I do," Jim shifted the car into first gear. "any doubts?"

"Oh no." we made it to the Magnussen Industries building without any problems as Jim gave me a rundown on the guy. It turned out he owned an empire of software developing, Internet cybersecurity, and other technology industries.

"He's turning into the next Steve Jobs or Bill Gates," I remarked as we parked and got out of the car. "flashy."

Jim locked the car as I grabbed my assistant paraphernalia, walking with him to the doors. He jabbed the button for the elevator and we waited. When we got to ground level, we followed the signs for Magnussen's office. His secretary buzzed us into his personal elevator.

"Jim," Magnussen was a taller than Jim and wearing a dark red suit. Jim wore a black suit. The opposites were pretty obvious. Jim had the air of someone who was cold, calculating, with a sense of mania behind the eyes. Magnussen was clean shaven, Jim favored his stubble, etc. Magnussen had the calculating and not omniscient look, but an air of smug superiority.

"Charles," they shook hands. "this is my assistant, Desiree." I gave Magnussen a ditzy look.

"Hi, howareya?" I altered my voice to be a little higher and fast talking. He met my hand, gave me an icy blue stare, then kissed the back of my hand like a Victorian gentleman. I did a high pitched giggle. "Oh, I hope I meetyouagain!"

"Likewise," Magnussen told me. "shall we get started, Jim?" I made to stand up, but Magnussen stopped me. "Just us men, darling. You can wait here." the way he looked at me made me want to kick him in the shins but I gave him an empty smile, glancing over at Jim.

"Desiree, hold my calls. I'm not to be disturbed. Understood?"

"Sure thing, boss!" I squeaked.

The meeting was relatively short as I understood that Jim was in criminal mode and snapped off monosyllabic answers. Magnussen tried to undercut him verbally by making personal asides about me. The Bluetooth earpiece Jim had given me went off, I clicked it on, and I could hear the conversation.

"So, Miss Desiree, where is she from?"

"She's from Scarborough."

"She seems nice, just ditzy."

"She does an adequate job."

"You're rather tight lipped, Mr. Moriarty. Might I-"

"No. Mr. Magnussen, you're making this personal. I came here to close a deal and you haven't even broached the subject yet."

"Of course," I heard pages being turned and negotiations were coming through the earpiece. It took several minutes but they reached some sort of deal. I couldn't tell whether Jim was pleased or not, but Magnussen never let on how he felt either.

The meeting concluded, I stood up to meet Jim and Magnussen as they came back into the waiting room. From experience I could tell Jim was tight lipped and that didn't mean anything good. Magnussen didn't betray any emotion other than the fact he made a rather pointed gaze at my open shirt.

"Oh, like what you see, huh?" I made my boobs jiggle a bit, letting out another high pitched giggle.

Magnussen gave me a fake smile as Jim bade him an icy goodbye and shepherded me out the door.

"Well, I think that was a waste of time," he banged the button for the ground floor.

I waited until we were in the car and leaving the parking garage before I spoke. "So it was a bust?"

"Oh yes!" Jim growled. "It was nothing but 20 minutes of verbal backstabbing! That man is just infuriating! He talked about you for the first five minutes, asking where you come from and how good he thought you would be in inappropriate ways!"

"I thought it was a business meeting, not ogle your assistant how good is she in bed type thing."

"Exactly!"

"Take a left here," I interrupted, making Jim pass by a little restaurant. "let's have lunch; I'm treating you, hon."

Jim looked a bit skeptical but allowed me to take his arm as we went in, were seated, and submitted our orders. We chattered the whole time with Jim asking me a few random questions.

"So if I was put in a difficult situation and needed to fake my own death, how would I do that?"

"Well, you can shoot yourself in any number of areas and have it look fatal, but it wouldn't be."

"I was thinking the head," Jim demonstrated the trajectory he was talking about. "how about that?"

"Even if you'd survived you'd be blind, deaf and dumb," I bluntly told him. "better luck someplace else."

"Like where?" Jim took a drink of wine.

"All doctors know that a gunshot wound to the abdomen is the slowest and most painful way to die. I've had to treat some during ER tenure. Those that get the most care and attention as soon as possible after the shot have the best chance of survival. Or if you're looking to fake it, try shooting a few millimeters to the left or right of the major blood vessel, the abdominal aorta."

"There's an idea. I wouldn't pass out or anything on the first impact?"

"I doubt it. Usually it takes a couple of minutes. You can inject yourself with sedatives that have a delayed reaction of say about five minutes so you say your piece, pretend to shoot yourself, then 'die'."

"Good idea," Jim's angry face disappeared as he smiled a bit. "so what do you think of all this?"

"If you tried this you'd need medical intervention as soon as possible, Jim. It all depends on where you're getting treated."

"I'll have one of my boys take me from the scene of the crime and get a medical room ready for you. Do you think I'll need surgery?"

"Impossible to tell until I see your injury. More than likely it's a stitch job." the place was starting to fill up now as our orders arrived. Jim chose a Ruben sandwich, I opted for salmon with green beans.

The rest of the day Jim had meetings in his own business, for lack of better words. I dropped him off at one of his meeting places where his own car would chauffeur him back to the townhouse.

I parked the Accord in the garage, backing in like an expert, then turned off the car. Once inside I hurriedly got rid of all traces of Desiree and stowed her gear in the spare closet. The office was cluttered with Jim's correspondence which I thought of organizing for him, but thought it would be better to get permission first. There was such a thing as an organized mess and it occurred to me that he was the type of person that subscribed to that system.

Instead I put some potted plants out on the rickety little porch. Geraniums would fare the best as they were tough flowers.

Having been without a TV from November to April, I had forgotten all about TV until I saw one in the living room. With nothing else to do, I sat down and flicked it on, staring blankly at the screen for a few hours. Reality TV had really gone downhill ever since its inception, and I had to laugh at the ridiculousness that was on the TV.

Four PM came, I prepared Jim's favorite of my dishes, meatloaf, and slid it into the oven. Unfortunately this one was an electrical range which meant I had to really had to watch the heat in case it overcooked. Jim loved my meatloaf especially with provolone cheese baked on top which was exactly what I did.

Sure enough, when he came in an hour later, I was just taking my masterpiece out of the oven to cool. Jim took a big sniff of the air, threw his arms wide and bawled out, "I love meatloaf!"

I laughed as I plunked it down on the range. "Let it cool a bit and we can eat."

"So plans for tomorrow are under way," he mentioned casually. "you and me at the tower."

"The Tower of London with the ravens?"

"The one and only. I have all I need to pull off a heist."

"Are you going to implicate me?"

"No, you're going to be a witness of whom I will need to knock out."

"The sleeping spray again?"

"Yes indeed." the meatloaf had cooled down enough so I cut him a generous portion and he doled himself out the sides-peas and mashed potatoes.

"I was getting bored-wait, that's Desiree speaking, not me. What character do I need to be?"

"Any one of them you want."

Later on I was lying on the bed with a book in my hands, not realizing I had dozed off until Jim touched my calf muscle. I jumped awake, mumbling something, becoming aware that Jim was smirking at me.

"You were asleep for thirty minutes. Getting more tired?"

"Must be," I brushed my hair out of my eyes and got into bed. "so how long will you be in prison after robbing the crown jewels?"

"I never said I was going to rob them. Just break in. I'll be back here in less than 24 hours."

"What have you got up your sleeve?"

"Good old blackmail," Jim brought up his laptop and showed me what he meant. "it's a simple hack to put these in the jury's hotel rooms."

"Well, vote not guilty unless you want your families to get hurt," I smiled wickedly, prompting him to return it. "well thought out, Mr. Smooth Criminal."

"I like that nickname. I have been calling you Vixen in my mind ever since we first had sex." he admitted.

"Keep calling me that." he put away the laptop, got into bed and snuggled up with me as I turned out the light.