Forget to Remember

was risky. But he was working. If she just accepted invitations that were completely without risk, she wouldn’t go anywhere. The riskiest aspect of her situation was her lack of identity, not having dinner with a billionaire.
    Besides, Mr. Ault might be the sugar daddy she needed. As opposed to a relationship with Adam, a liaison with Ault probably wouldn’t require actual sex. Some diddling and groping, perhaps, but she could live with that. Nobody would get hurt.
    She pulled up to the gate she had recently climbed over, impressed with her feat. It looked taller than she remembered. This time she talked to Kyle through the intercom and he opened the gate for her. This was a lot more civilized. He also met her at the front door. She said hello to him and offered him her purse to check.
    “That won’t be necessary. You can have a cell phone as long as it’s turned off. I didn’t know you before. I check men like Beard, mostly to make sure they’re not carrying a gun. I even pat them down. Beard’s pants were so tight I knew he wasn’t packing. I think he likes to be patted down.” Kyle smiled a knowing smile.
    “Was Beard extremely mad at me?”
    “I take it you’re not mixed up with him. He was using you for his own shady purposes. After I found out you’d bolted but hadn’t taken anything, I managed to keep Beard in the dark long enough so he wouldn’t be able to find you. He was pissed, but what could he do about it? My advice is, stay away from him. He’s bad people.”
    “Thank you. I will.”
    So, Kyle had abetted her escape. He was also part bodyguard. At medium height and build, he wasn’t in Beard’s class as far as size was concerned, but underneath his suit he must have a muscular body. She could tell by the way it flowed when he moved, almost like a dancer’s. He probably had a gun under his jacket. He was, perhaps, in his late thirties, with short, sandy-colored hair and a smooth face.
    Instead of leading her to Mr. Ault, Kyle looked at her with a quizzical expression and then spoke again. “There are very few people who wouldn’t have taken Mr. Ault for everything they could.” He paused as if waiting for a response, but Carol couldn’t think of a suitable one. “I Googled you. The only reference to a Carol Golden I found with a picture that looks remotely like you is of a woman who has amnesia.”
    He paused again. Carol avoided telling people she had amnesia. It felt like what she imagined telling someone she had AIDS would feel like. She wasn’t often tongue-tied, but she was now.
    When she didn’t say anything, Kyle continued. “I haven’t told Mr. Ault. However, I have no doubt he’d do everything in his power to help you.”
    “Thank you.” That wasn’t a suitable response, but Carol couldn’t think of anything else to say. She didn’t want Mr. Ault to know. He might be repelled; he might think of her as unclean, or at the very least less than a woman. For some reason, it was important that he be entranced by her.
    “Come into the living room. Mr. Ault will meet you there.”
    Carol followed him into the room with the high ceiling and wall-to-wall windows looking out at city lights. She felt as if she were in the home of a giant in some fairy tale, overseeing his realm. In contrast, Mr. Ault looked diminutive when he wheeled himself through an archway in his wheelchair. He was dressed impeccably and had a smile on his withered face.
    Carol leaned over and placed her cheek against his with her arms loosely on his shoulders, afraid of hurting him. He returned her embrace, running his hands lovingly over the new red sweater Tina had insisted on buying her for this event.
    “It’s sweet of you to cater to the whims of an old man. I love the feel of a woman’s sweater. It brings back memories…”
    Touched by more than just his hands, Carol was prepared to let him explore all of her fuzzy red landscape, but he stopped before reaching the hills.
    He rang the bell he carried with him. “Kyle wants me to communicate by cell phone, text message, all that shit, even within the house, but I haven’t gotten used to those new-fangled electronic gadgets.”
    The woman who served them dinner during Carol’s previous visit appeared in the doorway. Mr. Ault addressed her as Hildy and asked for iced tea. Carol decided to match him, tea for tea, instead of drinking the wine he offered. Hildy disappeared and returned quickly with a tray containing a pitcher of tea, a sugar