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    Your Secret Admirer
    Your Secret Admirer
    Your Secret Admirer
    Ebook228 pages2 hours

    Your Secret Admirer

    By John Locke

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    About this ebook

    How far would you go to save your marriage, your home, your job, and your life’s savings?

    Tinley Cooper—beautiful, ambitious, married, and desperate—needs a lot of cash in a short period of time. Turning to her Secret Admirer for help, she figured there might be some strings attached. As it turns out, they’re ropes!

    PRELIMINARY REVIEWS

    “A highly-original, creepy, cat-and-mouse thriller from the unstable mind of John Locke.”

    “Your Secret Admirer might be the most unputdownable novel Locke has ever published!”

    “As fast-paced as any John Locke book, with more twists and turns than I ever expected.”

    “If you read at night, as I do, you tend to read a few chapters, then look for a stopping place, so you can get some sleep. Your Secret Admirer has no such stopping point. It absolutely flies!”

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJohn Locke
    Release dateFeb 1, 2018
    ISBN9781937656195
    Your Secret Admirer
    Author

    John Locke

    John Locke kommt 1632 im englischen Wrington zur Welt. Nach dem Besuch der Westminster School in London studiert Locke bis 1658 in Oxford. Zwischen 1660 und 1664 lehrt er dort Philosophie, Rhetorik und alte Sprachen. Sein enzyklopädisches Wissen und seine Studien in Erkenntnistheorie, Naturwissenschaften und Medizin bringen ihm früh die Mitgliedschaft in der Royal Society ein. Als Sekretär und Leibarzt des Earl of Shaftesbury ist Locke in Folge der politischen Machtkämpfe in England gezwungen, ins holländische Exil zu fliehen. Erst 1689 kehrt er nach England zurück und widmet sich auf seinem Landgut seinen Studien. Im selben Jahr erscheint anonym Ein Brief über Toleranz, der die ausschließliche Aufgabe des Staates im Schutz von Leben, Besitz und Freiheit seiner Bürger bestimmt. Die hier formulierten Ideen finden in der amerikanischen Unabhängigkeitserklärung ihren politischen Widerhall. Lockes Hauptwerk, der Versuch über den menschlichen Verstand, erscheint erst 1690 vollständig, wird aber vermutlich bereit 20 Jahre früher begonnen. Es begründet die Erkenntnistheorie als neuzeitliche Form des Philosophierens, die besonders in der französischen Aufklärung nachwirkt. Locke lehnt darin Descartes' Vorstellung von den eingeborenen Ideen ab und vertritt einen konsequenten Empirismus. Aus der theoretischen Einsicht in die Begrenztheit der Erkenntnisfähigkeit ergibt sich für Locke die Forderung, daß sich weder ein Staatssouverän noch eine Glaubensgemeinschaft im Besitz der allein gültigen Wahrheit wähnen darf. Der mündige Bürger, der in der Lage ist, kritisch selbst zu entscheiden, wird konsequenterweise zum pädagogischen Ziel Lockes. John Locke stirbt 1704 als europäische Berühmtheit auf seinem Landsitz in Oates.

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      Book preview

      Your Secret Admirer - John Locke

      Part One: Tinley Cooper

      1.

      TINLEY CAUGHT THE new CEO staring at her ass the day he arrived from Memphis to take over the company. That was two weeks ago. And every day since, it’s been one flimsy excuse after another to drop by her office, or summon her to his.

      And each visit gave him an opportunity to compliment her looks.

      And each day the compliments became more inappropriate.

      Having seen it coming from a mile away, Tinley had plenty of time to rehearse a response: Mr. Kotter, I’m flattered by your interest, but I have a wonderful husband, and I’m very happily married.

      Now, sitting opposite her in the conference room, Rico Kotter instinctively lowers his eyes to enjoy the swell of her blouse. When he lifts them back to her eyes he says, God, you’re beautiful.

      Tinley takes a deep breath and waits for him to make his pitch.

      This is terribly awkward, he says.

      Please, Tinley says. Just say what’s on your mind, so we can address it.

      I have to let you go.

      Excuse me?

      You’re being fired. He looks at his watch. Starting right now, you’ll have thirty minutes to compose yourself and remove your things from the building.

      Tinley feels the flush of red creeping into her cheeks. If this is a joke, it’s not funny.

      It’s not a joke, and believe me, I’m dying inside. You’re the last person in the world I’d want to fire.

      Tinley turns around to see if anyone’s watching through the glass door. If so, it’s proof she’s being pranked. Seeing no one, she turns back to her new boss and says, You can’t be serious! I’m the top salesperson in the whole company!

      Kotter nods. You’ve done a fantastic job. Like I say, if it were up to me—

      "Whose decision was it?"

      I’m not at liberty to say.

      "This can’t be happening. I’ve been here five years! It’s the only job I’ve ever had. The company doubled my salary two months ago."

      I’m really sorry. On the bright side, with your looks and talent, you’ll find another opportunity in no time.

      "Are you kidding me? My husband and I just bought a new house. We’re still unpacking."

      He shrugs. You’re twenty-six years old. You’ll bounce back.

      She feels the tears welling in her eyes. "Every nickel we had went into that house. We have nothing in savings. Before you got here the company assured the bank that my job was rock-solid. Those were their words: rock-solid. I received glowing reports. I’ve never been reprimanded, never received a complaint."

      Which is why I’m sure you’ll be fine.

      "Fine? The loan document requires me to notify the bank if my circumstances change. Do you realize they can call our loan if I lose my job?"

      He looks at her with genuine curiosity. "Why would you agree to that?"

      She sets her jaw. Because my job was rock-solid. Because I generated over a million dollars of new business since January, and I’m the contact person for all those customers.

      You can’t take them with you, you know.

      What?

      The customers. You signed a noncompete agreement.

      "I know what I signed. It’s the main reason I won’t be able to ‘find another opportunity in no time’ or ‘bounce back,’ as you so stupidly put it."

      Kotter frowns. "I’m sorry you feel that way. I was hoping we could part amicably. In fact, I was thinking that since you’re…you know, not technically with the company, anymore, I was hoping that…ah…"

      Tinley’s eyes go from wet to blazing. "You were hoping to what, Rico? Fuck me?"

      His eyes grow wide. "Please! Lower your voice!"

      She says, I’ve seen how you look at me. As for the multitude of inappropriate things you’ve said since the day you arrived, maybe I’ll have a chat with H.R. I bet they’ll be interested to hear the comments you’ve made.

      Like what?

      Are you being serious right now? You asked me out a dozen times.

      He shakes his head. I asked you out to lunch. As colleagues.

      "Bullshit. Dinner and dancing isn’t lunch. But those were the least offensive things you asked."

      Please: feel free to get it all out. I’m listening.

      "You asked if I wear panties or thongs. You asked if my breasts were real. You asked if I shaved down there. You asked how often I masturbate, and would I let you watch me do it sometime. You wondered out loud what it would be like to be inside me. Not to mention—"

      He waves her off. "Go ahead. Tell them everything. You know what their first question will be? ’Why didn’t you say something before now?’ And then it’s your word against mine. Who do you think they’ll believe, Tinley? The bitter, disgruntled employee with an axe to grind, or the happily-married, brand-new CEO of the company? And good luck trying to get a letter of recommendation after accusing me of sexual harassment."

      That’s blackmail.

      "Is it? All I said was good luck. But I suggest you think it through before chatting with H.R. because the minute you go down that road, it’ll be on your employment record. I doubt many companies will jump at the chance to hire a gorgeous, but unstable young lady who screamed sexual harassment the minute she got fired from her last job."

      Tinley squeezes her eyes shut. He’s right: she’s toast.

      It’s three weeks before Christmas! she says, feebly.

      "I’m not sure how that’s relevant."

      What about severance?

      Two weeks.

      "Are you shitting me? After all I’ve done for this company?"

      That’s what everyone says. But it’s standard policy.

      What’s the official reason for my termination?

      He frowns. I’m not sure. But between you and me?

      She leans in closer as he whispers, I think they found someone else for less money. Kotter stands, looks at his watch. You’ve still got twenty minutes. You want to stay here a few minutes to regain your composure?

      No. It’ll take me that long to pack my stuff, she says, absently.

      Well, that’s one thing you can thank me for! I’ve had all your personal items placed in boxes. They’re waiting for you at the front desk. The guys from shipping will carry them to your car.

      You already packed my things?

      Yes. It prevents you from walking off with client records and other valuable data.

      As Tinley stands, Kotter’s eyes go up and down her body shamelessly, as if taking it in for the last time.

      You’re a pig of a man, she says, then backs out of the room so he can’t stare at her ass again.

      2.

      FOR TINLEY, THE reality hits when she stares into her trunk and sees her entire career reduced to three file boxes. She sighs, climbs in her car, and bawls so hard she barely hears the guard rapping on her window, telling her to move along. She lowers her window and says, Fuck off, Mall Cop. Then feels stupid for calling him that.

      After dabbing her eyes with tissues, Tinley drives aimlessly for two hours, wondering what the hell she’s going to tell Finn when he calls.

      Should she tell him?

      Perhaps not. Maybe it’s best to wait till he comes home tomorrow night. Otherwise, he’ll stay up all night, worrying.

      Tinley gasses her car up, drives home, parks in her garage, and starts crying all over again, thinking about the numbers. Finn makes thirty grand, she makes eighty. Used to make eighty. And they’re up to their eyebrows in debt. She’d crunch the numbers, but it’s pointless. He brings home less than the monthly house payment, which means they’re going to lose the house, their insurance, both cars, their credit rating, and…because the bank will sell their house for the outstanding debt, they’ll also lose the hundred-fifty grand they used for the down payment.

      She enters the kitchen, checks her phone for messages, then walks to the bedroom, kicks her shoes off, and crashes on the bed.

      When she wakes, it’s dark out, but that doesn’t mean it’s late. This is Louisville, in December, where it starts getting dark at five p.m.

      She checks her phone.

      8:15 p.m.

      Finn should be calling any minute.

      She pees, heads for the kitchen, but stops halfway down the hall, seeing an envelope on the floor by the front door beneath the mail slot. She picks it up, reads the writing:

      To: Tinley

      From: Your Secret Admirer

      She turns on the porch light and looks out the window to see if anyone’s outside. Seeing neither person nor car, she takes the envelope to the kitchen, opens it, and finds 50 one-hundred-dollar bills and a note that says:

      "Until next week."

      What the fuck?

      Tinley looks at the writing on the envelope a second time. It can’t be a coincidence the money arrived the same day she was fired, which narrows the possible suspects to the people connected with her workplace, which totals…

      Well, it totals more than a hundred. But the word secret is in quotation marks, which implies it’s someone she knows. She thinks about it. While the list of men that have flirted with her is vast, she can’t think of any who have five grand to spare.

      Unless it’s Rico Kotter.

      But it’s not Rico Kotter, since he’s anything but secret. If Kotter gave her five grand he wouldn’t push it through her mail slot, he’d offer it in person and tell her exactly what he expects in return.

      No, this note was written by someone who’s patient and subtle.

      Could it be a woman?

      She thinks about it, and one name comes to mind:

      Landon Mackenzie.

      Landon, age twenty-three, is the best and most productive member of Tinley’s sales staff, one of four full-time employees whose primary job is setting appointments for Tinley to close. Though Landon’s quite pretty herself, she pre-sells Tinley to prospective clients as The smartest, most beautiful woman you’ll ever meet. To her friends and family, Landon calls Tinley My movie star mentor. Though she’s never made any obvious sexual overtures, Landon has twice given her gifts that required specialized knowledge of Tinley’s preferences: her favorite, super-expensive tea, sold in a single area boutique. The one chocolate truffle Tinley can’t resist, made twice-weekly in a tiny downtown shop by a true artisan candy maker. But does Landon earn enough money to donate five grand to such a worthy cause?

      Yes, absolutely!

      Because Landon’s wealthy parents pay 100% of her living expenses. And she has a trust fund. Landon doesn’t work because she needs the money, she works to appease her parents. Also, now that Tinley thinks about it, Landon’s never mentioned having a boyfriend, so…

      Tinley re-reads the note:

      "Until next week."

      That certainly seems like something a woman would write, but what does it mean? Does it mean Landon’s planning to reveal her intentions next week? And if so, what are they? Landon knows Tinley’s married, knows she’s happy, knows she and Finn just bought a house. Surely, she doesn’t expect…sex.

      Does she?

      Maybe there’s a simpler explanation. Maybe Landon’s intentions are purely innocent, and the whole secret admirer thing is her way of not wanting to call attention to herself for offering Tinley financial help. Then again, Tinley never discussed finances with Landon, so there’s no reason for her to know how badly Tinley needs the cash. Beyond that, it would be quite rude of Landon—who works for Tinley at less than half her salary—to presume Tinley needs her financial help. Unless…

      Tinley thinks about F. Scott Fitzgerald’s quote about how the very rich are different than the rest of us, meaning, they operate under a different set of rules. Having been born into great wealth, Landon may have been taught that showering people with compliments, buying them thoughtful gifts, and tossing them cash when they lose their jobs is the proper thing to do.

      Tinley locates Landon on her contact list, pauses briefly, then presses the key. Landon answers, saying, Hi Tinley. I heard what happened. Are you okay?

      I am. Thank you. Can I ask you something?

      Landon hesitates. I’m not sure. It depends on what you want to know. There are certain things I’m not supposed to talk about.

      I understand. Actually, I’d like to discuss the envelope that arrived today.

      Landon pauses. "I don’t recall seeing any personal mail, but if you did receive something, I would’ve put it in one of the file boxes. Have you looked through them?"

      "Not yet. But…Wait. You packed my personal items?"

      Yes.

      Can I ask why?

      Rico…I mean, Mr. Kotter, said you were being fired. He called security to stand over me while I cleaned out your desk and boxed your personal items. Then they took the boxes down to the front desk.

      "I understand all that. What I’m asking

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