The Essence

By Nancy Deswik MacCreery

Disillusioned by divorce, reporter Sophia Smith Dubonnet gets her chance at a big story – interviewing a reclusive dictator in a third world country. What she finds challenges her perceptions as she becomes enamored with the General and his ideas, struggling to remain aloof despite his charisma. But before she can enjoy a brief romance, she’s forced to make a decision at gunpoint: does she side with what she’d previously believed to be right, or take a chance on where her heart might lead her?
Sophia's irreverent humor should give you a few chuckles. The story has believable characters, action, and romance; a great weekend escape, airplane or beach read.

Here's what readers have said about "The Essence":

"I really enjoyed this novel. It was funny, interesting and always had you guessing what was going to happen to Sophia next. A great book!" (Lulu reader)

"Wonderful book. It captured my interest from the beginning and held it through the very end. A wonderful romance with a twist of excitement! I'm ready to read a sequel! " (Amazon reader )

"Enjoyed the humor - found myself laughing out loud on the Metro!" (Reader in Washington, DC area - via email)

"I loved this story. It's romantic, yet fast paced and intriguing. Excellent reading to bring with you on vacation, to the pool, on a plane trip, etc." (Lulu reader)

​

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nancy Deswik MacCreery
• Release date: May 16, 2009
• ISBN: 9781452403205

Nancy Deswik MacCreery

Nancy MacCreery writes for people who enjoy action mysteries. Her books feature complex characters with a propensity for jumping into action in situations (often serendipitously stumbled upon) where little is known but evil must be uncovered and corrected for good.If you are intrigued by the challenges of our complex geopolitical world yet enjoy a touch of irreverent humor, romance and the antics of a group of intelligent, caring, sometimes fumbling and fun-loving cast of characters, Nancy’s books will offer you a great escape into a world of intrigue, trade-offs, and the crusade against evil.The Scoops and Schemes series includes Book 1 - The Essence, Book 2 - Unexpected Impact, and Book 3 - Cinnamon Bourbon and Deception. Book 4 is in progress!Nancy can often be found hiking, swimming, obsessing over her garden, reading and studying the political landscape, or dreaming up intricately woven plots while drifting on a boat at Jordan Lake, North Carolina while her husband fishes for that elusive “big one”.

Book preview

Chapter 1 - France, 2001

A flash of steel blue whizzed down the country road, spraying stray pebbles as it slid through the curves. As the convertible approached the village, Sophia Smith Dubonnet eased off the gas and coasted, braking just in time to slide into the gravel parking area in front of the wine shop. The sun highlighted her brown hair as she jumped out of the car.

The brass bell on the door jangled, announcing her arrival. Pierre? She took her sunglasses off and peered around the wall of wine bottles, inhaling the aroma of old wood and wine.

A portly man lumbered toward her, his black mustache curving over a smile of welcome.

Ah, Madam Dubonnet! What a pleasure! The sunshine follows you today. What brings you here ... is everything all right with this week’s delivery?

As always, your wine selections are superb, Pierre. Sophia enjoyed talking with Pierre, one of the first persons in the provincial French village to welcome her after she had arrived with Andre. Pierre made a substantial profit off Andre’s cultivated taste in wine, but unlike some of the other local merchants, Pierre was always friendly and ready to explain – either why some wine should be served at a certain time and temperature, or any other helpful cultural nuance her Midwestern American mind might not have absorbed. I’m looking for something special for tonight.

Pierre stepped back toward the more expensive wines, but Sophia held up her hand, grinning.

Something different -- I am looking for the wine we had at our first dinner, when I thought Andre was a street cleaner.

Pierre raised his eyebrows and tilted his head. Your husband told you he was a street cleaner?

Not exactly, but I thought he was -- an extremely handsome one. Sophia added with an impish grin. I still remember it like it was yesterday, not two years ago. Sort of swept me off my feet.

Pierre blinked several times.

She tossed her head. Actually, I was coming out of a gift shop and the sun was very bright. While I was retrieving my sunglasses, he came around the corner with this loud machine, which I later found out was a sidewalk sweeper. I was so startled, I jumped back to get out of his way and broke the souvenir I had just bought. I yelled at him; he apologized and insisted on buying me dinner.

The shopkeeper shook his head. Handsome rich men have all the luck. They run a pretty girl over with a machine and still make a date. He smiled as Sophia chuckled at his observation. You met him in Paris?

Outside of Versailles - I was studying there. And now, I am finally going back to studying.

Pierre scratched his head. You are celebrating going back to studying?

Yes, I’m going to finish my master’s degree in history that I was working on when I met him. André insisted he couldn’t live without me, so I didn’t go back home to the United States to finish my last two classes. I felt like a quitter, so I checked out several Universities here and finally found one that would accept my credits. The great part is the University is just an hour’s drive from here, and it should only take about six months, if I can finish my thesis. It will be hard work, but I’m happy to feel like I have some direction again!

Now I understand … can you tell me what the bottle looked like?

Yes, it was a popular one - the label was maroon and it had a basket of fruit on it.

Pierre’s dark eyes sparkled. We may be in luck. I think I have the wine of which you speak. He plodded back and disappeared behind the shelves. A moment later, he returned.

Is this it?

Yes, you are wonderful, Pierre, thank you.

The shopkeeper wrapped the bottle in some paper, made a note on Sophia’s account, and then walked with her to the entrance. Well, congratulations, enjoy your wine. I hope your husband realizes what a lucky man he is! He said with a wink.

He waved and watched her drive off. That one has such a zest for life, he mumbled, And so trusting. He tells her he is a street cleaner! Wonder what else she believes?

With the convertible top down, Sophia felt like she was soaking up the last rays of autumn sun, like the vines in the fields on either side of her. She turned into the tree-lined drive, saluting the stone statues that marked the estate’s entrance. She scanned the drive for her husband’s car. There it was, parked in the circle in front of the white columns that lined the porch. Perhaps Andre would be more talkative today.

The estate belonged to Andre’s parents; they had given the couple use of it as a wedding present. With few expenses and Andre’s generous allowance, they lived like well-heeled gypsies. In the last year, Sophia had felt like she lived in a fairy tale—she chatted with millionaires on islands off the coast of Spain, partied through the night with filmmakers in Cannes, took BMW racing lessons in Germany, and even danced with a sultan’s son.

But lately, André had been taking some trips alone. Her quest to find a suitable university had interfered with his impromptu travel plans. André had insisted she was ruining the quest for the ultimate party. She had argued that it was only temporary. She had two classes to take, then could work on her thesis and feel like she completed what she had started before André had turned her life upside down.

She jumped out of the car and raced up the white stone steps. She turned the handle and pushed open the mammoth oak door. She could hear Fefee, their white standard poodle, whimpering in the study. Strange, she thought, the maid usually put Fefee in the study so she could clean without the dog’s constant affection. That dog just could not leave visitors alone.

But it was the maid’s day off. Andre could have had a visitor, she thought as her shoes echoed across the marble floor. Probably came and went and André forgot to let the dog out. She opened the study and Fefee bounced out, wiggling in excitement and greeting. She stroked the dog for a moment, then looked up the stairs.

André, where are you? She called up the curved staircase. She slipped off her shoes, so her toes could enjoy the soft wool of the plush oriental rugs. While she waited for the dog to pick up her shoes -- it was the only trick she had succeeded in teaching her -- she thought she heard the hot tub running on the terrace. Wonderful. She and André spent many happy times relaxing in the hot tub. Some bubbling water and red wine sounded relaxing. She quickened her pace.

Look what I got for you – to remind you of old times... she called as she bounded into the master suite, the bottle hidden behind her back. A warm breeze wafted in from the open doors to the terrace and she could smell the special cigars Andre indulged in, usually when she wasn’t around, as it wasn’t one of her favorite smells.

Her eyes scanned the room. The blankets had fallen completely off the bed. Her eyes followed a trail of discarded clothing: shoes, jeans, shirt, a peach silk blouse... She heard Andre’s laughter, then an unknown laugh coming from the whirlpool. Perplexed, she followed the sound as if powered by batteries, not wanting to see what she thought she might see, but unable to stop.

André and a young blonde were in the hot tub. Their faces were pressed together and arms tightly wound around each other. Sophia stood in the doorway, frozen in disbelief.

André. André, why would you ... While her words tumbled out, he sensed her presence and wheeled around.

Damn. He glanced at the stranger with raised eyebrows, as if she had just suddenly appeared. Then, quickly composing himself, he turned toward Sophia with an innocent look of surprise.

Sophia... You are back early! He began in a tone you would use for a long-lost friend and reached for one of the towels lying on the marble bench. He stood up, displaying his usual disarming smile. He looked like a schoolboy caught stealing ice cream.

I see I have missed the entertainment, Sophia said coldly, as she pivoted and took a step away from the scene. She felt numb. The desire to get away from this awful scene was overwhelming. She wanted to bolt out of the house, but the small part of her that wasn’t numb wanted to keep a semblance of her dignity and exit gracefully.

Wait, Sophia, come back, it doesn’t count. It is not … another woman... She could hear André begin to explain as he climbed out of the hot water and dried himself. He could talk himself out of a hole and she didn’t want to hear the story he would concoct.

Not a woman? That’s even more disgusting! Once out of the room, she took a deep breath. She wanted to either throw up or cry, or perhaps both, but not here.

She didn’t want to make a scene in front of André or anyone else. Wine bottle still in hand, she grabbed her keys and purse where she left them. She tumbled into the car, remembering times when she was a teen and needed to let out her emotions. She usually hid behind the garage until her sister Anne found her and made it seem less tragic. She wished now she wasn’t thousands of miles away from her. It would be nice to drive there, she thought. She turned the key and the car roared to attention, a reassuring sound. Fefee barked and Sophia opened the car door.

So you want to come with me? Hop in and give me those. The dog still had Sophia’s shoes in her mouth. They were a bit slimy, but Sophia wiped them off with her sleeve and slipped them on.

Good girl! She patted the dog. She put the car in gear and tore out of the circle, squealing down the drive. Once on the road, she accelerated until she felt pushed back in her seat by the force. It was a relief. The road to the scenic overlook curved right as she headed straight for the cliff. She narrowed her eyes, focusing on the edge. She visualized André looking at the rescue crew dragging her dead body up the hill. She imagined him shaking his head sorrowfully and lamenting:

What a shame, waste of a wonderful car.

She jammed on the brakes, and with a squeal of tires, the car slid totally around and stopped as if she had gotten the last parking space on the cliff. Her heart beating hard, Sophia smiled and slowly opened the car door. She hadn’t tried that trick for a long time. Thankfully, it still worked.

The sound of the surf and the fresh scent of the ocean air awoke her senses as she picked her way down to her favorite sitting rock. She sat and watched the waves crashing on the rocks. André had betrayed her. No. She had been a fool. André was not the person she had believed him to be -- not that she hadn’t been warned. Just last week, they had met one of those Internet business millionaires and André had introduced her as my wife, an American nobody.

She never really understood why he had been so insistent on marrying her but she had floated along, never wanting to question what she wanted to believe was true love. Not anymore. So much for honor and trust. Wonder if Prince Charming fooled around on Cinderella… with a one of his feminine looking footmen? She almost laughed at this mental picture and that made her feel better.

Looking at the jagged rocks below gave her an idea. She walked back to the car and picked up the wine bottle. She sat and held it for a minute, watching the waves.

She held up the wine bottle. It was supposed to be opened in celebration. She stood up and hurled it, watching as it smashed on the gray rocks below, bleeding a dark red stain.

Fefee whimpered. Sophia glanced at her. You’re not sympathizing; you just want to chase it. That’s the great part about being a dog, you don’t take sides and a moment later you will forget all about it. Sophia sat down, watching the waves and petting the dog. Slowly, a tear tumbled down her cheek, followed by many more until her body shook with sobs. It felt good to cry for a while. She realized she had traded her independence, her plans for her own future, for some jewels and a car. She had lost her way, but perhaps she could find it again, and she did love the car.

Around her, the sun was setting, filling the sky with brilliant pinks and orange. The dog had fallen asleep. She realized she was hungry and getting cold, but she felt relieved and alive. She would find herself a place to stay the night, get some dinner, then call André and tell him it was over. And she would fight to keep the car -- it would be a reminder to be more careful in judging character. She walked over and ran her fingers lovingly over the hood. Then she opened the door, let the dog in and lowered herself in and began to drive, this time more cautiously, toward town.

*****

Chapter 2 - Chicago, 2005

Sophia hummed to the radio and tapped the beat on the leather steering wheel. Because of you I never stray too far from the sidewalk… She sang out loud along with the music. That could be her theme song today, the fourth anniversary of the day she had left Andre. Last night she had paid off the last of her post André graduate school debts. It made her think back to the divorce, something she wanted to forget.

It had been a nightmare. When she first talked to him, André had quietly tried to talk her into a second chance. Sophia had done some talking herself – to other people -- and had found out it would have actually been a fifth or sixth chance. Andre’s Catholic family had been more upset than Sophia had anticipated, and she was surprised to find, that in their view, divorce was a worse sin than adultery. Especially when the sinner was their son.

There had even been a tearful visit from his mother who bemoaned the lack of grandchildren. This was followed by an unwelcome intrusion by Andre’s father.

You do not want to be divorced! He began warmly and grasped her hands. Your feelings are hurt. Perhaps this will help make them feel better? He pulled a diamond necklace from his suit coat pocket and dangled it in front of her.

Sophia was insulted. Now, what is that supposed to signify? She pulled her hands away and pointed to the door. Please leave. Andre’s father narrowed his eyes and gave her a cold look. I shall. But you will not get a single franc.

She only demanded what was hers by the prenuptial agreement, which included the car, as it was a gift, and payment for her lost scholarship and tuition for the remaining semester of the Master’s degree she had been working on. As André could spend more than that in a week, she had hoped for a quick uncontested settlement.

Instead, she had to attend a hearing where André had accused her of frigidity and desertion; anything he thought would make him look better to his lawyers and himself, regardless of the truth. He had even claimed she was unfit to take care of the dog. This had shocked Sophia, who had thought André would see it her way and be happy to be free to do as he pleased. Again her judgment had failed her. The final terms of her divorce had given her the car and just about enough money to get herself and it back to Chicago, and left her with a low light on self-esteem. She tried to pick up the pieces by returning to the University of Illinois, but her student stipend had not provided enough cash to live on, especially with the tastes she had acquired during her year and a half with André.

So about a year after completing her Master’s degree, she had added up the total of all her student and personal loans and decided to abandon her doctoral work and earn some money. Her sister Anne had offered to let her move into the spare bedroom in her condo. That gave her a lift both emotionally and financially.

The stoplight turned green and the steel blue BMW darted down the ramp onto the tollway. Sophia hummed as she picked her spot in the far left lane and slid into it with precision. As she neared the tollbooth lane, she zeroed in on a black Camaro.

She held her breath as she passed through the tollbooth, and then grinned. I won! She thought while accelerating back into the center lane. Tollbooth matchups had been more fun when people had to throw change into the bin, but the game still worked with the E ZPass lanes. Exiting off the toll way, she sped down a wide boulevard and then turned into the office parking deck.

Zipping into the first open parking space, she popped out, reaching in the back for her laptop bag. She dashed over and pushed the elevator button.

Sophia took a deep breath as she waited. It was Tuesday -- assignment day at Personna Magazine. Normally, she looked forward to starting on, as she called it, a new journalistic adventure. But her last couple of assignments had been disappointing, mostly fluff stories on friendly people who coveted publicity and made it very easy for her -- sometimes too easy -- almost interviewing themselves, even prompting her with questions. Sometimes it seemed that all she had to do is smile, which didn’t give her much opportunity to prove her intellectual or research skills.

She weighted the merits of asking Ellie, her editor, about a more challenging assignment. As she entered the elevator, she remembered her editor’s stern look when discussing her last article, a piece on an aspiring movie director.

Your subjects love to talk with you because you exude a natural curiosity about people. You seem to capture the image they are trying to create. But the readers also want to see the dark side of these people. Be more dimensional.

Relatively new at the journalism business, Sophia had used her natural skills to first network into the job itself, then to work up from a research assistant to a writing position. She still was regarded as a rookie, but when she compared articles, she thought her writing was every bit as good as some of the senior staff who worked on the more controversial and high profile assignments. How could she prove herself if she didn’t have a tough assignment? Yes, she had convinced herself. She needed to speak up today.

As Sophia entered the brightly lit office, Ellie was walking past her desk with a mug of coffee. Just the person she wanted to see! Ellie… Sophia began.

Good morning, Sophia. Ellie raised her cup but kept up her brisk pace. Grab a cup of coffee and come down to my office. I’d like to get you started on your new assignment right away.

Sure, Sophia answered as she stashed her purse and laptop in her cube and headed for the coffee room. A minute later, she appeared in Ellie’s doorway with two cups.

It’s fresh -- they just made a new pot so I brought an extra.

Her editor smiled. "Thank you! I could use some more – it’s going to be