Page 71 of Modern Romance Collection May 2024 Books 1-4

“Certainly, sir. Today is April the fifth, and the time is almost seven in the evening.”

“Is today Saturday?”

“Yes, sir.”

He decided to take one last leap.

“Thank you, Anthony. My last question: what’s the name listed for my room?”

A pause followed. “Sir?”

“Just clarifying what name the reservation was made under.”

“Of course, sir. The name we have on file is John Adamos.”

A Greek surname. One that didn’t feel or sound familiar.

“Thank you.”

He hung up the phone.

John Adamos.

He said the name out loud, repeated it several times. Each time it sounded as alien as when he’d first heard it.

His eyes moved back to the card. He had thirty minutes before the appointment time listed on the card. He could call the police or take himself to a hospital. But the hospital could take hours of examinations and scans. While he would need to see a doctor eventually, the medicine made his pain manageable for now. The police would interview him, possibly take a photo and circulate it to the media as they investigated what had happened to him. Something else that would take time.

He tapped the card against his other hand. This route, however, could give him answers within the hour.

He picked up the phone and dialed again.

“Good evening and thank you for—”

“Anthony, it’s... John again.” The name tasted foreign on his tongue.

“Yes, sir.”

“Would you please have a taxi ready for me in ten minutes?”

Fifteen minutes later, John stood on the sidewalk that ran alongside a terrace of elegant town houses. The one listed on the card resembled the others in the row with its white brick, arched windows and elegant pillars guarding the main entrance. But unlike the glossy mahogany doors that graced the other homes, this one’s door differed with its midnight black coloring. There was no sign, though, no indication that the house was anything but a residence. He ascended the stairs and pressed the doorbell. Scarcely two seconds passed before the door opened to reveal a man. A very, very tall man who looked as if he’d been stuffed into the black suit he wore and didn’t look very happy about it.

“Good evening.”

The man said nothing.

“I have an appointment.”

One bushy eyebrow raised up toward the man’s broad forehead. John pulled the card out of his pocket.

“I—”

The man’s face underwent a startling transformation as John held the card up. A smile creased his face as his mountainous shoulders relaxed.

“My apologies, sir. Admittance is only allowed when the card is produced.” He stood back and gestured for John to come in. “Welcome to Smythe’s.”

John hesitated a moment. A flicker of something teased his mind: an image of a chandelier dripping in diamonds. A smoky, feminine voice.

Then it was gone.

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