CHAPTER SEVEN
AFTER A THREE hour delay, we touch down in New York. This is the season for unexpected storms. Mark tried to get me to sleep but I could not shut my mind off. I just sat there staring out the window at the flickering clouds, twirling her diamond ring between my fingers. The further away we got from California, the more sick I felt. I left the most important thing in my life there. Mark had pointed out that at this point we weren't sure she is still in California.
We walk in silence out to the car, her ring still twirling between my fingers, in my coat pocket. Wolf’s comment about it being years until she resurfaces rolls in my mind. My stomach sinks. That word will never have the same meaning again. Any length of time without her is barely tolerable. How am I supposed to spend years away from her? I feel myself start to drift inward. Hardening for the upcoming lost time.
We step out of the airport the cold night air hitting my cold body. The promise of rain fills the darkness. I numbly follow Mark to the car. Not a word is spoken except when Mark asked if we were going home or the penthouse. I don’t want to be in either. Both will feel empty without her. I opt for the penthouse since I have to be at the office in a few hours. Forty-five minutes later we finally pull in to the apartment garage.
The elevator pings and I step out the moment the doors open. The air in the penthouse is too thin. The rooms are too quiet. An emptiness rises in my chest, and I fight it back hardening myself further. It’s either that or vomit.
Mark strolls past me, my bag in hand and heads directly to our room. I hope for a second that any minute she will come running out, wearing nothing by my white shirt, and throw her arms around me. But the moment never comes. Shrugging off my jacket, I lay it over a bar stool and turn towards the kitchen. I pull a short crystal cut glass and a bottle of Glenfiddich from the bar.
Mark appears just as I take a seat on the gray suede sofa, not bothering to turn on a light. His weary gaze locks with mine before it trails to my glass. Ignoring him, I take a sip letting the amber liquid burn the back of my throat. I can’t sleep in that bed. Other than having to travel for work, I haven’t slept without her by my side for a few years now. I detest sleeping alone.
“Sir, you should try and rest.”
“Good night, Mark.” I say not wanting another lecture from my bodyguard. Thankfully, he takes the hint and retreats to his room. I sit, staring out over the lit city, feeling the heat from the amber liquid as it fills my belly. It’s the only warmth I feel and it’s only temporary.
I let my mind drift to the day I first saw her.
“I’m going for a walk, Mark.” I call over my shoulder as I walk away from the hotel doors. We landed in California a few days prior, and I have done nothing but attend meetings. The last thing I want to do is be cooped up in my hotel room.
The cool autumn air whips the fallen leaves along the streets and walkways. Couples walk arm in arm laughing softly. After a few minutes of walking aimlessly, I hear centralized laughter and talking. I follow a group of people toward the noise. A farmers market emerges almost out of no where. The scent of fresh apples, grapefruit, and pears fills my nose, reminding me of when I went apple picking as a child. I feel a soft smile pull my lips as my feet start to carry me slowly through the market.
Stands upon stands are filled with the most vibrant fruits and vegetables I have ever seen. A few other stands have things like caramel apples, fresh popcorn, paintings, knick knacks, and so forth. A little something for everyone. The sound of some children playing a little too rough followed by wood breaking and apples hitting the ground form behind me, pulling my attention.
“I’m so sorry!” A young woman says spinning around, her espresso hair shinning in the golden light of the setting sun.
“Oh honey it’s not your fault.” The vendor says dropping down to help pick up the spilled fruit.
“Please let me pay for it.”
“Hush now. I’m not worried about a few dropped apples.” The old woman says waving the girl away.
I watch a moment as the girl continues to pile apples in her arms just to have them tumble back to the ground. When a tear trickles down her cheek I can’t resist the urge to help. Crouching next to her I snatch rolling apples, handing them directly to the vendor to take care of. The girl looks up and squints a second before I block the sun from her view. Instantly her cheeks flush turning a beautiful shade of pink. I chuckle at the cliched movie moment.
“Thank you.” She says under her breath.
I stand and offer her my hand which she takes after a hesitant moment. “Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” The words are out of my mouth before my brain catches up. Oddly enough I don’t feel foolish for being so forward. When the pink in her cheek deepen to red I smile already knowing her answer is yes.
It was in that moment, my world shifted. Colors became more vibrant. Everything was less mundane. I felt as if I had just awakened.
The elevator chiming and opening suddenly jolts me. I look around the room and realize I’m still on the sofa, the crystal glass lying on the rug. When I don’t hear footsteps, I glance toward my open elevator. No one’s there. Standing I stretch and notice a small envelope on the floor of the empty car. Slowly I make my way over, but not before Mark suddenly is next to me. I walk over to the envelop and pick it up. Nothing suspicious, just a plain envelop sitting in elevator.
Making my way into the kitchen, I grab a knife and open the white envelope dumping its contents on to the counter. A typed note and a cut up medical band sit innocently on the marble.
“Don’t touch them sir. We can dust for prints.”
Mark hands me tongs that I use to flip over the note, which reads ‘You will never find her.’ My gut twists. The asshole who did this knows we are looking for her. The medical band is her’s from the hospital in Cali. Bile rises in my throat. Dropping the tongs, I head back to the living room, snatching the glass off the floor, and refilling it again.
I drink it all. The familiar burn pushing the bile back down. “Mark—”
“I know, sir. I’ll get Wolf on it right away.” Mark immediately takes the tongs and drops the contents into a plastic bag. “Try to get some rest.”
“No. I’m going for a run. I’ll be back in time to shower and head to the office.”
He responds with a curt nod, then disappears. Knocking back another glass before returning both to the kitchen, I turn to change. I need to get out of here. A run should clear my head.