Continuing with the 19 prompts I randomly chose is the 2nd installment. The prompts, taken from several previous Un-OLWG prompts, are in bold.
“ ‘Nother?” Jack asked, already knowing the answer as he dropped two more ice cubes in his wife’s glass.
“Oh, my, God. We have to talk.” Alana dragged the palm of her hand across her face and then fell against the back of the couch.
Jack handed Alana her second drink, half of which she drank down in a single gulp. He lifted her feet off the floor as he sat down next to her, placing them across his lap, and began a vigorous massage of each arch. Alana lay her head back on the couch cushion and closed her eyes.
“Thanks. That, and this,” she said raising her glass, eyes still closed, “is exactly what I need right now.”
“You just go easy with that,” Jack said. “That’s my good stuff.”
Alana smiled. “Now I know for sure you love me.”
“Why? Because I look out for you?”
“No. I mean…yes, of course, you do…but no. You let me drink your good stuff with ice. Must be love.” She lifted a weary hand to his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “I am one lucky lady.”
“Speaking of which,” Alana continued, “what have you done with our children? The house is far too quiet.”
“You’re not going to believe this, but I asked Beck if she wouldn’t mind keeping Jenny occupied for a while after you got home, and she offered to take Jenny and a couple of her friends to Chucky Cheese.”
“And Dalton? Wait, our Becky? Our Becky offered to babysit? You must have let her take the car.”
“Of course. Dalton asked to go to the Tysons when he got home from school and so I asked them if it was OK if he stayed for dinner. I have to pick him up at eight.” Jack checked his watch. “Anyway, Beck’s fine. Better driver than you, as a matter of fact.”
“Our Becky?” Her head still laid back on the couch and eyes still closed, Alana handed Jack her glass. “You’re right. Too much, too fast.” She sighed. “Don’t go out tonight. Becky can pick up D.”
Jack set Alana’s drink down and sent a text to his daughter to pick up her brother on the way home.
“OK. Enough child wrangling,” Jack said. “Other than going on about how we have to talk, you haven’t actually said anything about your meeting with Ellie today.”
Alana made an exaggerated effort to sit up and open her eyes. “Have you ever been out there? To Ellie’s,” she said with deliberate embellishment. Jack’s top shelf had taken quick effect.
“The Roswell place? Sure. A few times. The Blakesons never wanted an office downtown.”
“How mob boss,” Alana mumbled. Not wanting Jack to ask what she said, she quickly continued, “But not out back. The…acres…behind the house. Mansion. Whatever. Out back, behind the…The solarium, and all those exotic plants and the overgrowth.”
“No. Driven around the estate, but, no. I haven’t seen the back.”
“Well, long story short, it’s the next chapter in Roswell agri-business. No, actually, it’s not that. I mean, it is, but it’s…” Alana waved off her digression. Needing to focus, she took a deep breath and then continued.
“The next chapter for Roswell Industries, as Mrs. Blakeson, Ellie, sees it, is pharmaceuticals. By that I mean, she wants in on big pharma. No. Wrong. That’s not quite it. Not in on it. She wants big pharma. All of it. U.S., Europe, China, India, South America…”
Jack did not reply. He sat with his back against the couch with an oddly neutral expression on his face, his fingers continuing their otherwise furious work on Alana’s feet.
“I mean, you are kiddin’ yourself, lover, if you think you can take the smell of money, and power, and influence, and highway robbery, and all the rest of it out of the…girl…but you can’t take the girl out of the…whatever. You know what I mean.”
“Nope. Really don’t.”
Alana swung her feet back on the floor.
“Jack, honey, the woman has a plan. A world domination plan. The kind of world domination plan Roswell is supposedly no longer in the business of concocting, sort of plan. As one of her attorney’s, you are kidding yourself if you can’t, or won’t see it.
“And do you know what she wants to do with this plan, starting with this little tea hybrid with leaves that look like they have dragons on them? She is thinks she is going to single-handedly own big pharma. And she doesn’t care who she’s going to have to railroad, betray, con, steal or bring down, to get it.
“It was creepy, Jack! I spent an entire afternoon being sweet-talked by this dear old woman who seems like the best honeyed-apple-pie-baking auntie you’d ever want to know, only to slowly realize she intends to run her weirdly bucolic version of a drug cartel from her grow opp behind her grand mansion and fertilize it with the dead bodies of her rivals! She plans on succeeding by building on the company’s long held reputation as don’t-mess-with-me gangster, gun-toting bootleggers. There’s a good reason she named that plant Dragon’s Food, and it’s not because the leaves …what are you looking at?”
During her rant, Alana did not notice her husband’s attention had turned to their front hallway. Alana saw two shadows backlit by the entry porch light.
“Who’s that?” Alana demanded.
Out from the darkened entry came Eleanor Blakeson and a very tall, very large, very threatening looking man wearing a shoulder holster with a gun handle protruding out from under his arm.
Jack stood slowly. “How did you get into my house,” he quietly demanded.
“I thought that was a very good speech, Alana,” Eleanor Blakeson said. She then turned to Jack. “I realized this afternoon your wife would not be easily persuaded, so I thought I would come around. So I could talk to you, both. Where are the children?”
I have absolutely NO CLUE where I am going with this story! Re-wrote/edited some of the first part after writing this next part. It’s fun to just start writing and see where the story goes, but it’s also crazy to be saddled to a runaway horse!