Posts Tagged chair

Excerpt 149


She slammed the pages down on the table.  Both hands shook uncontrollably and she feared she might lose control of her body.  She picked the letter back up and skimmed for keywords, tried looking it over to find where she misread.  The words stayed the same. Danno knew Bruno before he ever knew her.  He knew Emmanuel. He knew where he lived. He never would have come to her town if it weren’t to try to get Emmanuel’s money.

She stood, letting the papers fall to the floor.  Everyone was still working on their computers or talking on their phones.  Men were drinking beer with their suit jackets on the backs of their seats.  There was no earthquake happening except inside of her.  Everything inside was pushing her to go.  Every thought she had was prefaced with “Go now. Take your bag and go.”

If she left, Danno would be worried.  She knew he loved her, which was the worst part.  She knew he didn’t care about the deal or the money. She knew he would die if anything happened to her. She knew their time together changed him, as it had changed her.  It was the worst part because there was love.

She slumped back down in the chair.

“More tea, Miss?” a server asked meekly.

“No, thank you. Just the check.”

“It’s on the account Miss.”

“Yes, okay, thank you.”

He ran his world by signing his name.  His name took care of everything. He lived differently than people who had to apply for credit or hope they could save enough money to retire. He risked a lot, but the reward was living a life that wasn’t confining day after day.

Her chest tightened as she folded the pages and shoved them back into the envelope. She knew Emmanuel was telling the truth, but felt better trying to find holes in his explanation, to prove him wrong.  Why would he still pay her when he knew something, anything, had gone wrong?

She could confront Danno and ask him to tell her the truth. He o course would know that she already knew what the truth was to even ask in the first place. He would know she knew about all of it. What did he do to people who knew too much? Did he kill them or have someone else do it? He wouldn’t actually kill her if he loved her, she thought. The again, she had nearly forgotten that a man burned to death because of her. Self-defense or not, she had taken a life.

He could be the only kind of person with the only kind of life that she could actually build something with. They both did things the way other people didn’t do them. They both felt connected to one another. She wouldn’t be able to find anyone who made her feel that way he had. And he meant the most to her since she was left the country with him and didn’t tell anyone she knew that she was going.

She held her hands out and tried to steady them. When this didn’t work, she did her best to dry her eyes by waving them rapidly.  People began to look at her.  She was the most underdressed in her sundress, damp with sweat,  sandals and sunglasses. She took another cigarette out and lit it.  This time the smoked entered her lungs easier.

“Get up and go. Leave,” she whispered.  She zipped up her bag and swung it over her shoulder.

“Hey, are you smoking?” He said, coming up behind her.

She jumped, sending ashes all over the armchair.

“Just one,” she said, stubbing it out next to the first cigarette she had smoked.

He sat on the coffee table in front of her and took her face into his hands.

“This flight is not going to be as long. Just have a nice dinner, read a little and I’ll be at the gate in no time.”

She nodded and let tears slide down her cheeks, into his hands. He hugged her.

“Come on.  Everything is going to work out.”

He signed the check and took her hand, walking her out with his arm around her.

“I have to use the restroom,” she said.

“Sure. To the right. I’ll wait.

“Do you want to come in with me?” She asked, winking.

 

 

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Excerpt 73


“Would you like one more drink? It’s such a beautiful night.”

“If you’re sure,” he said.  “But I’m not sure  how much more charm I can bring tonight.”

She led him to the backyard.  The pool glowed as the veiny shadows danced up on the cement sides.

“Have a seat. I’ll make you a drink,” she said for the first time in her life.

He took off his suit jacket and bent down softly, making sure the chair wouldn’t scoot out from under him.

Ala watched him through the kitchen window as she poured too much of the vodka from the freezer into glasses and splashed ginger ale on top.

She took a sip and could barely get it down, but decided it was good enough if they were already buzzed.  She walked out carefully, now back in her mules.  She loved the way he looked, reclining back on the bamboo lawn chair, and deep relaxation spreading across his face.

“Here you are.”

He took a sip.

“Wow—the old standby.” She winked and set her glass on the glass table next to his chair.  She felt feverish, without any traces of sickness, just a pressing heat running up and down her whole body.  She knew she couldn’t sit down, she would explode, or self combust.  Her greatest fear for the moment was that he would say it was time to go, to wrap up the night.  That couldn’t happen.  He had unbuttoned part of his shirt and had removed his shoes and socks. He certainly didn’t look like he was going anywhere. She couldn’t be sure though.

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Excerpt 62


She was stunned to see him.  He wore a tan summer suit with a cream colored tie and gave her a thin-lipped smile as he approached the front steps.

“Hello again.”

“Hi,” she said, remembering she had just awoke from a nap and had no clue as to what she looked like for the second encounter with him.

“Thanks for letting me know I was at the wrong house.”

“Yes,” she said, but didn’t know why.

“I’m glad I was able to find you,” he said, showing off his large white teeth.

He found her.  How did he find her?  Who was he?

“You said you have something of mine?”

“Oh yes,” he said, reaching into his pocket.  He pulled out her wallet.

“You found this?”  She was amazed and relieved he had not come here to murder her.

“I did.”

“That’s how you knew where I lived,” she said laughing.

“Yes.”

“Thank you so much,” she said, reaching for it.  He took one step back.

“Have dinner with me.”

“This again, huh?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a little busy.  I was just in the middle of—”

“Sleeping?”

“How did you know?”

He brought a single cool finger to her cheek and traced what she knew was a sleep line from the lawn chair.  Mortified, she brought his hand down.  His finger gripped hers.

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