Love & Brimstone: Pre-preview

As any writer will tell you, sometimes certain things get cut from a manuscript. In the case of "Love & Brimstone," I ended up cutting my original prologue. It covers Anastazia's life from when Robertson is hired by her parents to just after their death and gives you the idea that Taz is anything but an ordinary little girl.

It's not that it was a bad prologue, it just bogged down getting to the main story. So here it is in its original entirety. It covers a wide span of time, several vignettes introducing Taz and her relationship with Tim Robertson, the man she views as her "adopted" dad.

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"Love & Brimstone" - Original Prologue

Eric Proctor led the man through the kitchen, where Bianca was trying unsuccessfully to shovel pureed sweet potatoes into the baby's mouth.

"Darling, this is Tim Robertson, the chap I told you about. The one I'm interviewing to be our business manager."

The attorney held out his hand and the woman flashed him an exasperated, exhausted smile.

"Hello," Robertson said. His warm, rounded British accent matched his sturdy frame.

She started to shake his hand and realized too late hers was covered with baby food. "Uh, sorry. Nice to meet you."

Robertson smiled, reached for a dish towel. "That's quite all right. And who is this precious one?"

Eric laughed. "My pride and joy, Anastazia."

"She's adorable." Robertson fixed the little girl with his blue eyes and she immediately stopped finger painting with her food, transfixed by his gaze. And cooed.

"Where are you from again?" Eric asked.

"I was born and raised in Cheshire, spent some time in London. But I've lived most of my life here in the States."

"I won't hold it against you, mate," Eric laughed. "Bianca dragged me out of Dublin. Have to say, the weather is nice here in L.A.–"

"Oh crap!" Bianca swore. "The studio car is coming in an hour and I still need to get ready. Crap!"

Anastazia burbled, still smiling at Robertson.

"Why don't you let me feed her?" Robertson was already taking off his suit coat and rolling up his sleeves.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly ask you to–" Robertson fixed her with his gaze and she paused, looked from him to the baby, who was now body painting with her entree. "Really?"

He nodded, taking the spoon from her. "I love children." He turned to the baby, who was once again entranced by her new friend. He scooped up a small spoonful and she obediently opened her mouth for him, keeping every bit of it in.

"You're hired!" both parents said.

Robertson winked at the baby, who flashed him a gummy grin. "I can stay late tonight."

Bianca disappeared and Eric watched their new manager feed the baby. "She really likes you."

"I have lots of nieces and nephews." He got the rest of the baby's dinner into her. She finally cooed, burped, and giggled, her round green eyes sparkling. She had her father's eyes, Robertson noted.

Eric laughed. "I love her. But I'm not very... you know... parental." Robertson smelled a hint of bourbon on his breath. "Unfortunately, neither is Bianca. We love Tazzie to death but we're both...busy, just...we need someone...you know...responsible around."

Robertson nodded, wiping the baby's face with a damp cloth and cleaning the smeared food off the tray. "I understand completely. I was going apartment hunting tomorrow. I'm tired of paying for a house when I'm rarely there." He held Eric's gaze and the baby quieted, watching them.

Eric's face went blank, then he grinned. "Hey, I've got an idea. Stay right here!" He bolted from his chair and disappeared.

Robertson smiled at the baby. "You and I will be great friends, won't we?"

She clapped her chubby hands and gave him another gummy grin. He brushed her wispy hair from her eyes. "You're going to be a beauty. I'll certainly have my hands full with you."

She reached out and took his finger in her hand and gnawed on it, making him laugh.

"Gah!"

"Gah, indeed, young lady," he chuckled.

Eric ran – literally – into the kitchen. He was moving so fast he grabbed the doorway as he rounded the corner to keep from going ass over teakettle.

"You'll move in here," he breathlessly exclaimed. "I talked to Bianca, she's all for it. Please say yes, it'll save us a huge hassle. I've got racing season coming up, and she's got two movies in the pipe. If you're going to be handling all our stuff anyway, it makes sense. Tazzie really seems to like you. She hates most everyone else. I've never seen her take to anyone the way she takes to you."

Robertson looked at the baby. "Would you like that?"

Gummy grin. "Gah!" She clapped.

He turned to Eric. "Splendid. Let me clean her up, you can show me where everything is, and then show me my new quarters."

A puzzled look clouded Eric's face. "You don't mind being a babysitter?"

"I think the term is major domo, and no, I don't mind. I am perfectly capable of handling a baby as well as your affairs-" Eric blushed, "and I can hire staff to take care of cleaning and other tasks." Robertson fixed Eric with his eyes again.

"Great! Bianca will be thrilled!" He bolted out the door.

"Does your father ever slow down?"

"Gah!"

Robertson lifted her out of the chair. "Yes, it is very gah. Let's get you a bath and some pajamas, shall we?"

Eric left soon after his wife, mumbling something about a meeting. Robertson said if Bianca checked in, he would tell her Eric was in the bathroom and then call Eric's cell.

Eric's jaw dropped. "You're amazing, man, you know that?"

He nodded. "I've been told I'm efficient."

Robertson checked on the baby, asleep in her crib. He'd move in tomorrow. But for now...

He placed a call as he watched her.

"Yes, it's me," Robertson said. "No problems at all. They were tripping over themselves."

"Hired you?" the other man asked.

"I start tomorrow. Well, tonight, technically." Robertson paused. "I need a favor." He outlined his request.

"He won't be happy about that," the other man said.

"I don't care. This one's special. If he trusts me as much as he claims, he must take my word for it. Let me deal with her. And I mean hands off."

"All right. I'll tell him. If you need anything, let us know."

"With these two as parents, I'll need all the help I can get."

***

"Now go play - nicely," Robertson said, sitting on the bench.

Anastazia – Taz – was a five year-old fireball. She liked her reddish auburn hair loose and long. It was already to her shoulders and naturally wavy. He put her in jeans and sneakers, knowing she'd be filthy by the time they got home.

One of the moms sat next to him. While Robertson was distracted talking, Taz took a toy car away from a boy older than her, who was now crying.

"Anastazia!" She looked up, guilty, and ran over.

"Yes?"

He knelt down so he could talk to her and lowered his voice. "Where did you get this car?"

"From Billy. He gave it to me."

"He gave it to you, or you took it?"

She fixed him with her green eyes and it took every ounce of his will to focus. "Gave it to me."

"Anastazia," Robertson said with a warning tone, "did he give it to you, or did you ask him for it?"

She looked down. "I asked him."

"Did he want to give it to you?"

She shook her head.

"Go return it. Then come here."

She did. He moved to another bench, made her sit and look at him.

He softened his tone. "Taz, we've talked about this."

"But he gave it to me – I asked."

"But you made him give it to you."

She nodded.

"What if I asked you for Mr. BinkBink and you didn't want to give him to me, but I made you?" She looked horrified. The thought of giving up her cherished teddy bear brought tears to her eyes.

"You cannot force someone to give you things."

"But I can."

"I know you can – but never, ever force someone to do it. It's rude. And it's mean. You don't want to be a rude, mean little girl, do you?"

She shook her head. "No."

He smiled at her. "You are a very special little girl. You must not ever be rude or mean. Never take things that are not freely given. Do you understand?"

She nodded.

"If you forget, think about Mr. BinkBink, how you would hate to give him up if you didn't want to."

She nodded, earnestly this time. Point made. Hopefully. It was a lesson she had to learn now, or he wouldn't be able to teach her at all. If she didn't learn empathy at this age, she would be very, very dangerous.

"Were you looking him in the eye when you asked him?"

She nodded.

"What have I told you about that?"

"Not to do it unless it's you or Momma or Daddy or someone I want to be very close to."

"Right. And?"

"Never ask for something when I do it."

"Right. Why?"

Because it's rude."

"Good girl. Remember Mr. BinkBink. Don't be rude, don't be mean, and don't take things from others unless they really, really want to give them to you. Understand?"

She nodded.

"Good girl. Go play."

He returned to his seat next to the mom to continue their conversation.

"She's so beautiful and well-mannered. I don't know how you do it."

He smiled. "She's a very special little girl."

***

Robertson stood in the doorway and looked at the screen. "Anastazia, what on earth is that?"

She looked up from the couch. "It's the Sci-Fi channel. It's a neat old show called Dark Shadows."

He thought he successfully hid his smirk.

You have no idea how old, he thought.

"I did my homework already. You said I could watch TV when I got done."

"Very good." She was ten and brilliant in school.

"Did Mom say if they'll be home this weekend?"

"I'm sorry dear, she didn't. Would you like me to call her back?"

She shook her head, turned back to the screen. "No, it's okay. Never mind." She fell silent.

"What is it Taz?"

She turned to him. "Would you mind taking me to the movies tomorrow?"

"I would be delighted. Pick what you want – PG or below, young lady – and I'll be happy to take you."

"Popcorn?"

"With all the extra butter you can wade through."

She laughed. "Thanks, Robertson."

He returned to his office. She hadn't seen her parents in two months. Her father racing, her mother in one movie after another. He knew he was not a substitute for them, but she needed nurturing or she would become bitter.

That was the last thing he needed.

She picked a comedy, not too crude, and he laughed through it with her. As they left she took his hand, held it all the way out to the car. "Thank you for spending time with me."

"It's my pleasure. You know that, Taz."

He held the car door for her and she looked him in the eye as she got in. "You're like a dad, you know that?"

He smiled. "You're like my daughter."

She nodded, and they rode home in companionable silence.

***

"Anastazia Proctor! Downstairs now, young lady! You're going to be late!"

"Jeeze Louise, I'm coming," she shouted back.

Robertson sighed, getting her eggs ready. She bounded into the kitchen, her long, wavy auburn hair in a loose ponytail. "I've still got twenty minutes before we have to leave."

He eyed her choice of clothes. The shirt would do. It wasn't his favorite, but it covered all her parts and wasn't tight. The jeans didn't have holes in them, plus they covered all the parts not covered by the shirt. Her sneakers were worn but her favorites, so who was he to complain? They were on her feet. Her make-up was light, the agreed upon amount, although in reality she didn't need any.

But try to convince a thirteen year-old of that.

"I don't want you to be late for your first day of school."

"Will you come to the parent meeting?" She ripped into her eggs like a starving wolf.

He nodded. "Of course. I'll be there at three." How would he keep the boys off her this year? Junior high. How did other parents do it?

She finished her juice, rinsed her plate, grabbed her backpack. "I guess the 'rents are passed out upstairs?"

"Taz!"

She shrugged. "I heard them come in last night. Excuse me, this morning. About six. My alarm went off a few minutes later."

He shook his head. "Come on, let's go." He grabbed his keys, and fifteen minutes later they neared the school. He pulled up to a red light and looked at her, fixed her with his eyes.

"Anastazia."

She looked at him and he had her. "Remember. Avoid their eyes. Never ask for something when you're looking someone in the eyes. Understand?"

She nodded, dreamy, and he looked up as the light changed to green. "You have a good day today." Fortunately for him, all he had to do was give her reminders from time to time.

She nodded. "Yeah, yeah," but she smiled. "What do I have for lunch?"

"Turky wrap, swiss, light mayo." He pulled into the drop-off and she leaned over and hugged him before getting out.

"See you at three, Robs."

"Have a good day, sweetheart."

He watched her, saw her smile at a group of boys as she walked past.

Two of the boys fell in behind her, dreamy looks on their faces.

He closed his eyes. "Oh dear God, please give me strength."

***

He didn't know if he could handle having Eric and Bianca in the house at the same time. They had two states – at each other's throats like wolverines, or screwing like bunnies.

There was no middle ground, unless you counted passed out.

At least Eric made good on his promise to teach Taz how to drive. He spent the day tuning his 1965 Mustang and went to pick her up from school as a surprise.

Robertson said a silent prayer as he watched Eric drive off.

Please bring my girl home safely.

Bianca yawned as she walked into the kitchen. "Good morning, Robertson."

"Afternoon, Bianca."

"Oh, is it?"

He placed a plate of scrambled eggs in front of her and she smiled. "You're so efficient." She shoveled in the eggs and asked for more. "And a damn good cook."

"Thank you."

"How's my baby?"

"She's doing great. Did you see the information I left for you?"

She nodded. "I can't make that school thing though. I've got to be in Paris for a shoot. Is that okay?"

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

She smiled as he refilled her plate. "We are so lucky to have you - you are the best ever. Promise you'll never leave us."

He avoided her eyes, a light crystal blue that caught the color of whatever room she was in. He was strong, but she was stronger in that way. Worse, she didn't know it.

"Absolutely, Bianca."

"You've been so great with Anastazia. Except for us, you're the only family she's got."

Bianca left to get ready for her appointment. She was gone by the time Anastazia blasted into the driveway with her father.

Robertson walked outside and watched Taz circling the driveway, trying to master finessing the clutch. She finally jerked to a stop in front of the door. "Did you see me?" she squealed, running up to him and hugging him.

"Yes," he laughed, "you were great."

Eric's face clouded. He walked over to Robertson and before Eric could say anything, Robertson looked at him.

"You're a good dad, Eric," Robertson murmured, fixing him with his eyes.

Eric's face went blank. Taz was too busy calling her friends to notice what was going on.

"You're a great dad, Eric. She loves you very, very much. You are doing a wonderful job raising your daughter." After sixteen years, now was not the time for Eric to get jealous and decide he wanted to finally start carrying out his fatherly duties.

He let him go and Eric blinked, smiled at Robertson. "Did you see her?"

He nodded. "I'm so glad you were able to get back for this – it means the world to her."

"Yeah, well, you know. She's a chip off the old block, huh?"

Robertson nodded. "You'll be home all week, I take it?"

He nodded. "I want to spend some time with her, out in the garage."

"She'll love that. Anything in particular you want for dinner..."

***

"She's beautiful," Bianca whispered.

Robertson nodded, "She resembles you both very much."

They had no idea how much.

Eric was sitting on Robertson's other side, puffed up and proud. "That's my baby," he said. Taz walked across the stage, accepted her diploma, and waved at them. Robertson waved back, trying to juggle the video and still cameras at the same time.

Bianca looked like she had a horrible thought and put her hand on Robertson's arm. "You're not going to...you won't leave just because she's graduating, will you?"

He smiled. "No, Bianca. You're stuck with me for a while longer, I imagine."

She sounded relived. "Thank goodness. I mean, she's got college, and I've got movies coming up, and we still need you..."

***

Blue lights flashed in her rear view mirror. Robertson looked at her as she pulled over. "I told you not to speed, young lady." She was twenty and drove like her father – balls out.

The CHiP walked up to her window, pulled off his sunglasses. She flashed him a smile and in five minutes they were on their way. Sans ticket.

All she'd done was be polite and talk. He never even asked for her license.

Robertson finally found his voice. "That was...amazing."

She shrugged. "I haven't had a ticket, but I get pulled over all the time. They just give me a warning and...uh, I guess I never told you that, huh?"

He shook his head, taking mental notes. She was so strong. Thank God he'd trained her well early on. He'd never caught her being cruel, and he was sure she wasn't aware she was doing anything special.

She was just being nice. And polite.

***

They sat at the kitchen table. Taz's face was puffy, the box of tissues at her elbow almost empty. Robertson poured her another drink. Usually he discouraged her from imbibing, but she needed it.

So did he.

"I can't believe it. I just can't."

Robertson kept the cell phone next to him, waiting for news. As soon as they were notified he'd locked himself in his office and made a frantic series of phone calls, starting an avalanche of activity behind the scenes the likes of which Anastazia didn't need to know.

He patted her on the hand. "Keep faith, dear. There are a lot of people looking for them."

"And I was supposed to go too! But I just had so much to do with exams and stuff–"

"It's okay, Taz."

She started crying again.

He had to hold it together. For her sake. He prayed they would be found safely, but he didn't hold out much hope.

His cell rang and he answered it, then shook his head when she looked hopefully at him. Nothing yet. He walked into his office and closed the door.

"We have a whole fleet out." It was him, personally. Robertson had never heard him sound so grim. "If they can be found, they will."

"Good."

"Do you think...I mean, should I–"

"No," Robertson said firmly. "I'll take care of her. You stay away. It's too soon."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Robertson had a thought. "You don't think someone planned this, do you?"

"I thought about that," he admitted. "She was supposed to be on the flight. She was listed on the passenger manifest. Keep her close until we know for sure."

"Of course I will."

Robertson guided Taz through the process. She spent many nights curled up on the couch in his lap, twenty-four but fragile as a child, crying herself to sleep. He ached for her, knowing he could help but to do so would push things along too soon. She needed time to heal. Others had survived tragedies worse than this.

She decided to sell the house and he thought that would be the end. When he mentioned looking for his own place she looked horrified.

"No - you can't! I need you!"

He smiled. "Taz, you don't need me hanging around."

She nodded, frantically. "I'll get a big condo near the office. Big enough you can have your space. Please – you're the only family I've got!"

She looked desperate. Her parents had messed up the original plan by getting themselves killed on their trip to Rio. The revised edition was for her to finally be on her own, but he couldn't stand to see her so miserable and upset.

He nodded. "I'll stay."

She threw her arms around him and hugged him, sobbing with relief. When he finally had a chance to be alone and phone about the change in plans, there was reluctant agreement.

"I'm not going to abandon her," Robertson said, adamant. "There's plenty of time. Maybe this is for the best."

"When does she start her new job?"

"Three months. Once she graduates from law school and completes her internship."

"How's she doing?"

"Brilliant. She will go far. She's already got quite the reputation for fixing sticky situations, smoothing things over."

"Excellent."

"Everything will work out fine – you'll see. Did he get the paperwork?"

"I think he's still drooling over her picture."

"Now do you see why I insisted on waiting?"

"Yes, you were right. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"It helps." Pause. "I meant what I told him. Make sure he understands my position clearly. If he breaks her heart, I'll kill him with my bare hands."

"He understands."

"Good. He'd better. There won't be a place on this earth he can hide from me if he hurts my little girl."

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