Kill Cupid: Internet dating just got dangerous by J. Brandon Best Page A

would find a three year old.
     
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    Rita sat at Alessiya’s desk doing her nails. Returning from the kitchen with more wine Alessiya said unexpectedly,
    ‘Anyway, kind of dangerous leaving him to his own devices…’
    ‘Dangerous…? Why dangerous?’
    ‘Because experience tells me we haven’t had a client quite like him… I even suspect I haven’t.’ Alessiya leaned across Rita and taking her wine glass added ‘he doesn’t strike me as your average internet desperado, that’s why.’
    ‘Yeah okay… but so what? He hasn’t twigged to anything yet, I’m sure of it…’
    ‘You can’t be so sure of that. Your man’s different… I sensed it at the airport. He’s had a lot more experience, I can tell. He’s a player… more confident… he’s smart… God, most men write to girls because they couldn’t find a girl where they live, even if she was delivered in a gift wrapped ice-cream cake. I suspect he’s had a lot of experience with women, not girls - like you.’ Alessiya laughed. Rita gave a look like her pride got hurt. Alessiya ignored her,
    ‘So while he’s alone, not under your control, how do you know he can’t call Zhana and arrange to meet her? The game’s over then my dear.’ 
    ‘It can’t happen!’ Rita jumped up and grabbed her handbag from the sofa, rummaged through it then, ‘Oly look!’ She held Bronte’s mobile. He had forgotten she had it when he jumped from the cab, and until now she’d forgotten she had it in her bag. Snatching it from Rita, Alessiya looked it over prompting Rita to add, ‘And I’ve already checked it for her number. He doesn’t have it.’
    Alessiya laughed. ‘Clever girl, you learn quickly. You’ll do well at this I can see. So how did you manage to snag the phone?’
    Rita fluttered her eyelids and replied cutely, ‘Easy, like taking candy from a baby’.
     
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    The next round the waitress made, Bronte refrained from the goo-goo gaa-gaa and stuck with ordering beer only. He tried to forget about the lonely night before, his day, Rita and the boots. The girls opposite helped keep his mind off these things until he looked at his bill and realized he could have bought about 430 beers for the price of those boots. Two beers a day for the next 7 months! The boots were in fact two to three months pay for the average Russian worker. A lot of money for shoes, a lot of bloody money he thought, considering Zhana appeared to be taking time from work.
    The girls on the other table were looking at him again. Was he talking to himself? Was it that obvious? He looked away. And as if the entire journey had been programmed into the matrix, the overhead speakers played English Beatles music. ‘ Lovely Rita meter maid, where would I be without you? Give us a wink and make me think of you… .’ Where would he be without Rita? He’d be home and at least $375 richer . He thought about throwing a chair at the speaker suspended in the corner. From that moment on he decided she was Rita. He’d liked the Zhana he thought he knew but he definitely didn’t like the Zhana he actually knew.
     
    From where Bronte sat in the canteen, it was less than ten minutes walk to Zhana’s house but of course he had no idea of this. Months earlier, she provided all her details including mobile phone and address. But at some point around meeting Lena he contracted a computer virus, it ate all his email and he lost Zhana’s details. In fact, this was the reason he did not even reply to her last few letters. Back then, he had been trying to arrest the invisible worm munching away at microscopic particles of information on his hard drive. It had been man versus computer and man lost.
     
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    Alessiya and Rita sat perched in