For Research Purposes Only Part 13

And the phone rang once more.

Muttering curses that would have made a trucker blush, she looked at it and weighed her options. She

could ignore it. But perhaps it was Jack again. If she picked it up and it wasn't, she'd have to breaksome speed laws to get over to the studio in less than half an hour.Sighing, she picked it up."Daphne, dear. I'm so glad I caught you." Dr. Jane's voice swam into Daphne's ear. "I thought perhaps you'd be gone for the night, but I wanted to touch base..."

"Jane. How nice...I'm sorry I haven't had chance to call you since you got back, but honestly, it's beenvery busy. I was just on my way out actually...""Then I won't keep you. I had to let you know that your first draft is excellent-I read it on the plane home. With the addition of your extra research, I think you'll have a super presentation and paper to

offer the board."

"Oh wow. That's good news, Jane. I'm really happy to hear it." And she was, although Daphne's conscience reminded her that her dissertation had slipped rather low on her priority list lately. Right beneath lacy lingerie and a new perfume.

"There was one other thing..."Daphne sighed and sat down again. "Yes?""You remember that man you were with when you called me a week or so ago? Jack? Jack Foster?"Daphne's spine straightened in her chair. "Yes?""I remembered where I'd heard the name.""Oh?""Mmm hmm. He's a contributor to our college.""What?" Daphne's eyes widened."Quite a sizeable one too. He's largely responsible for the audiovisual lab upgrade equipment we were able to install recently. I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but since I'm on the Board of Trustees, I get to see who signs the checks. Your Jack Foster is one of them."

"Good G.o.d.""Yep. You found yourself quite a nice catch there, Daphne. Seems he's a nice man, in spite of what onemight think."

Daphne frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well...given his occupation-it's hard to equate a top producer of p.o.r.n films with someone who quietlydonates large sums of money to local educational facilities, now, isn't it?""A...aproducer ? Ofp.o.r.n films ?""Yes, dear. Did you think I didn't know? Jack Foster is the real name of Big John Johnson. Thevery well-known producer who's done wonders for the genre. So I hear, anyway. Never watched any of 'em

myself. Not good for the heart at my age..." Jane chuckled.Daphne's world was spinning around her ears and little dots of light were flashing across her vision. Shewas, quite literally, speechless.

"But I should let you go...come over and see me when you've finished adding in your extra research data, dear. I'm looking forward to it. Bye for now."

"Uhhh..." She was grunting to a dial tone.

Oh. My. G.o.d.

Daphne sat, slack jawed, and carefully replaced the phone on its cradle like it was dynamite ready to

explode. Her brain was in the same situation.

She felt sick, stunned and shocked, with a gazillion different emotions whirling in her gut and churning upinto her throat.She swallowed with difficulty.He wasBig John Johnson . Jack Foster wasBig John Johnson .The idea seeped slowly into her consciousness and sat there, uncomfortably, awkwardly, shaking the foundations of her being. And kicking rather nastily around her heart.Holys.h.i.t .Daphne rubbed shaking hands over her face and sucked air into her starving lungs.Big John Johnson. Jack Foster. One and the same person.Her heart drummed in her ears and she winced at the sound, trying desperately to pull herself together.It was a shock. A huge great knock-her-knees-out-from-under-her shock.She stood up and paced the length of her small office, trying to reestablish control over her body and her mind. And finally, both settled back into more normal patterns. Her feet worked, her knees stopped

wobbling, and she began to let her thoughts process the information in a more rational manner.

They'd enjoyed a few moments of running around screaming with their hands slapped up against their ears, but enough was enough.

It explainedso many things, of course.

Various puzzle parts slotted nicely into place in this new scheme of things. Where they'd met. Big JohnJohnson had been signing his work. She just hadn't known her Jack was Big John himself.Big John Johnson had to be incredibly familiar with movies and their production processes. She just hadn 't known her Jack was Big John.

And the studio? d.a.m.n, he probably owned the d.a.m.n thing. No wonder he could afford a Corvette. She just...hadn't known.

She stopped pacing and gazed unseeingly at the wall in front of her, as something very important

occurred to her.She hadn't known.She hadn't fallen in love with anyone but Jack Foster. The man who'd touched her like she was precious to him, loved her to the brink of insanity and laughed with her at an elephant.

ThatJack Foster.

The man who could make her heart do an odd little hiccup just by smiling at her with those glorious green

eyes. The man who didn't need jokes explained, and who could quote Bogart back to her without pause.

The man...the man sheloved .

There was no two ways about it. She loved him. And the more she thought about it, she realized that it wouldn't matter if he were a garbage man or a Senator. Well-okay, perhaps not a Senator. There were some professions even Daphne would be hard-pressed to stomach.

The Jack who had talked with her that first night in the video store was a warm, caring, intelligent man. He was s.e.xy as h.e.l.l, fabulous in bed, and had shown her nothing but affection and pa.s.sion. She'd taken him as she'd found him, and let him take her...yeah, well, best not get into that right now.

Daphne realized something else. That if she'd known who he was up front, she'd never have let him get within arm's length of her. Andthat fact really made her furious with herself.

She'd have been as guilty as the rest of the world and judged a man by what hedid not by who hewas .

Thank G.o.d she hadn't had the chance to make that all-too-human mistake. She'd seen him as Jack Foster, nice guy, store manager, and treated him as such. And that thought led to another. Perhaps...just perhaps...Jackliked it that way.

She remembered her quick impressions of the people in the store when she and Jack had met. And put two and two together to come up with a lot of 38-double-Ds.

Her heart lifted. She loved Jack theman , not Big John the producer. It was enough for her. She could live with the p.o.r.n thing.

Of course, it did explain why he was so good in bed, but somehow, she knew that their loving had meant something special to him. He'd made no secret of it, and shecouldn't have been naive enough to fall for a line of...bulls.h.i.t.

Couldshe?

Jerking herself out of her stupor, she realized there was only one way to find out. She had to go confront Big John Johnson himself.

She had to find out where the two ident.i.ties met. And who it was that she'd fallen in love with.

Brave thoughts, she mused as she gathered her things together. What shereally wanted to do was go home, stick her head under the sofa pillow and stay there for about ten years or so.

But that was the coward's way out. She had found a man she was nuts about. He was worth fighting for, if fighting was what she was going to have to do.

Although how she was going to explain to her mother that her current boyfriend was at the top of his field in p.o.r.n movies was another matter. A smile crossed her lips for the first time in an hour. Knowing her mother, the outrageous woman would be tickled pink.

With that comforting notion uppermost in her mind, Daphne headed off towards the studio and her lover. Whoever he was.

Chapter Sixteen Jack stood in his office doorway and looked around, trying to come to terms with the way his world had shifted in so short a time.

It was an efficient room, designed for a techno-savvy businessman. He'd barred all the posters from this particular s.p.a.ce, preferring one or two framed lobby flyers from the cla.s.sics. Harry Lime, fromThe Third Man , stared down at his desk, and Veronica Lake tossed that magnificent fall of blonde hair behind Alan Ladd inThis Gun for Hire .

There was really nothing that screamed p.o.r.n. His large gilded "d.i.c.k", the accolade of his peers for a couple of his. .h.i.ts, was buried in the back of his bookshelf. He didn't care about awards. It was an honor to receive them, but he couldn't have cared less. He knew he'd never be displaying that golden statuette from the Academy anyplace in here. The day the mainstream movie industry recognized p.o.r.n as a legitimate cousin was a long way off.

And Big John Johnson certainly wouldn't be around to see it, if it ever happened.

"So." Chuck's voice sounded behind him. "Having second thoughts, Jack?"

Jack shook his head. "Nope. Not a one. In fact..." He strolled over to his desk and ran his hand along the shiny surface. "It feels kinda good, in a weird sort of way. Like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders, you know?"

"Yeah." Chuck grimaced. "And been dumped on mine."

Jack grinned. "You can changeyour mind, you know."

"Not a chance." Chuck grinned back. "I didn't want your job, but h.e.l.l, I'm no fool. If you trust me enough to offer it, then f.u.c.k, dude, I'm takin' it."

He tossed the paper onto Jack's desk. "There's an article in there you might be interested in...knowing your fascination with old-time movies and stuff like that."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Mmm hmm. It's about the Wildwood Theater. Looks like it's doomed this time."

"Ohs.h.i.t ."

Jack grabbed the paper and thumbed through the pages, finding the article in the editorial section, and scanning it rapidly.

"G.o.dd.a.m.n !" His mouth tightened. "This is just out-and-out f.u.c.kingwrong ."

Chuck nodded, leaning against the doorway.

"Like we need another strip mall with a couple of high falutin' coffee shops, a hairdresser and a dry cleaners, all of which will go under within the first two years or so, leaving us with more empty storefronts and a lot of lost jobs.f.u.c.k ."

Chuck nodded again.

Jack looked up. "You know what this means?" He crumpled the inoffensive newspaper into a ball and tossed it with absent accuracy into the trash bin. "It means we're gonna end up with nothing but the fourteen-screen megacomplex next to the mall as the only place in town to catch a movie." Jack ran his hands angrily through his hair.

"It means everybody's gonna have to wait in line, squeeze themselves into someplace that's made for a kid under the age of twelve, watch films on a screen not much bigger than the average projection TV, and pay through the nose for the privilege."

Chuck opened his mouth, but closed it again as Jack continued his tirade. "And talk aboutpaying . With no compet.i.tion, prices can skyrocket. Pretty soon kids won't be able to afford to take their dates to the movies on Friday night. It's gonna cost thirty bucks for a couple of tickets to a new release, let alone what they're gonna sting customers for popcorn." He snarled. "This sucks, Chuck. This reallyreally sucks." Chuck waited for a moment, then obviously realized Jack was done. "I know." A wry smile curved his mouth. "From what I read, it's the whole money thing that's done in the Wildwood. They're waiting to see if some public-spirited citizen will ante up the cash to get the thing restored. If not, the City Council has authorized its demolition."

Jack's brain worked furiously over this information, and he narrowed his eyes, glaring at his buddy who stared right back at him. "d.a.m.n you, Chuck. You know me a h.e.l.luva lot better than I realized.""Just thought you'd want to know. The timing seemed right." Chuck looked satisfied and turned toleave. "Oh...one last thing..."

Jack glanced over his shoulder. "What?""Left some footage for you in the folder marked "Panties", with an appropriate icon on your desktop. I think it's an audition tape...you should check it out for me. One final favor, I guess...I dunno. I haven'tseen it yet, so I'll go on your say-so with this one.""Sure. I'll take a look when I have a minute.""Cool." With a casual wave, Chuck sauntered off.Jack sat down behind his desk and automatically pulled out a pad and pen. He liked making notes on paper...there was something about the feel of the old-fashioned instruments that brought out his creativity a h.e.l.luva lot more than the clack of keys on a keyboard. He'd plotted most of his films that way, and now he was plotting something even more important.

His future.And it looked like he was about to go into real estate.* * * * *"Name?""Uh..." For a split-second, Daphne had no idea what her name was.The question was fired at her by a rather officious guard at the studio gate. He was a far cry from the semi-insensate game player who'd casually waved them through before. Well,duh . Ofcourse he'dwaved them through. She'd been with Big John Johnson, who probably paid the kid's salary."Ma'am? Your name?" The guard was waiting impatiently."Oh...sorry. Daphne. Daphne Littlewood."

He checked his clipboard. "Okay, Ms. Littlewood. Go on through...down the main drag...first on yourright. The BJ parking lot is at the end." He snapped his window shut.

BJparking lot? Daphne flushed bright pink. Surely they hadn't named a parking lot after...

Common sense rushed to the frontal lobes of her still-confused brain. Big John. Not...not...what she was thinking. Oh heavens above. She was turning into a confirmed scarlet woman.

h.e.l.lo. My name's Daphne. I'm a s.e.xaholic.

h.e.l.lo Daphne.

Visions of twelve-step programs and supportive group meetings faded as Daphne carefully drove to the

parking lot outside the nondescript building, and yes...there was Jack's Corvette. At least he was here.

She clutched her bag and the gift-wrapped book as she crossed the asphalt lot, looking for anything that

resembled a main entrance. There wasn't one. Jack had brought her through a side door the other night,which was now quite securely locked.What therewas , was two people having a very heated argument."You b.a.s.t.a.r.d. I should shoot you where you stand." A tall blonde with hair pulled into a tight braid was obviously furious with the man in front of her. "You d.a.m.n near ruined everything, you incompetent

a.s.shole."

"Are you mad because of just now...or because of last night?" The man reached out and brushed his hand over her cheek with a s.e.xy grin.

His gesture was met with a curled lip and a hefty swing, which resulted in the sound of a very hard slap up against his face.

The blonde spun on her heel and stalked away, her boots ringing loudly on the pavement.

"So does this mean tomorrow night's off?" The guy yelled after her retreating back.The blonde lifted her arm and raised her middle finger over her shoulder. She didn't even bother to facehim.