Unsafe Harbor by Jessica Speart

living alone. I glanced up at the clock, knowing that it was too early for Jake to come home, yet wishing that he were already here. I suppose that’s what happens when you get used to spending time together. The only problem was that we were doing less and less of that these days.
    Quit worrying, I reprimanded myself, and locked any misgivings away.
    Then I turned my attention to the work at hand.
    “Good boy, Spam. Just give me a minute and then I promise that we’ll go out,” I told the pooch, knowing he would understand as I booted up the computer.
    He laid back down and rested his chin on my foot as I entered my password.
    Two e-mails from Haller and Associates immediately popped up on the screen. I downloaded the attachments and printed out both lists.
    My, my, but Joy was well organized. Not only did they include a bounty of names, but also their contact phone numbers.
    I quickly scanned them and could scarcely believe my eyes. I didn’t need to know about charity balls to instantly recognize the crème de la crème of New York high society. Included was everyone from socialites and supermodels to actresses, countesses, heiresses, and trophy wives. It was a virtual Who’s Who of Manhattan. At one time, I would have swooned to spot my name among such a celebrated group. But times change, dreams shift, and now these people were on my hit list.
    I was musing about life’s strange twists and turns when the telephone rang.
    “I predict we’re having dinner together this evening,” Terri said in place of hello.
    “Uh-huh. And I knew it was you before I picked up the phone,” I jokingly responded.
    “Seriously, if I catch a sleigh downtown can we snowshoe out and grab a bite to eat?”
    “Are you trying to tell me that you don’t like my home cooking?” I teased.
    “And what home cooking would that be? A Swanson’s frozen dinner, or takeout?” he parried.
    “I just got a bottle of Schapiro’s finest kosher burgundy. Care to come up for a drink before we head out?” I asked.
    “Rach, surely you jest. That crap is pure rotgut. I don’t know how you can drink the stuff. For God’s sake, even they advertise it as wine so thick you can cut it with a knife. The only thing it’s good for is cleaning out clogged pipes. I’ll come up for a while, but you’re going to have to do better than that. Besides, I’m afraid if I stay too long I’ll thaw out and won’t be able to leave until spring.”
    Terri was having a hard time adjusting to the cold. All the ice and snow just didn’t go with what he liked to call his tropical personality.
    “Why couldn’t Eric have found a new job someplace more suitable? Say in Hawaii, perhaps?” he’d moaned after experiencing his first bout of snow.
    In truth, I was beginning to worry about their relationship. Eric was a workaholic and homebody, while Terri still liked to party. Throw a rebellious teenage girl into the mix, and they were beginning to have trouble.
    “See you soon,” I said, and hung up.
    Then I walked into the kitchen and flicked on the light, only to have a shriek tear from my throat. Every horror film I’d ever seen came rushing back to haunt me. There on the counter was my worst nightmare: a roving gang of cockroaches.
    A group of oval brown bodies were gathered in a shiny mass of twitching antennas, and skittering limbs. Santou had left a slice of Gerda’s cake out, and the bugs were rockin’ and rollin’ all over it. Unbelievable. The damn things didn’t have the decency to run away and hide from me, even though they were faster than cheetahs.
    I quickly transformed from my normal animal-loving self into a vindictive Terminator.
    Yeah, yeah. I know. I’m supposed to protect every living creature. But truth be told, we all have our limits. Besides, these were the least endangered critters on the planet. Not only can they survive decapitation, but the frigging bugs regenerate their own body parts. I should have such talents. Even the army