Second Chances

by Phelps, K. L.

  "Well," Linda said as she stood. "I need to check in with the office. If Oliver is as quick with the food as he was with the drinks, I won't be getting back to the office today. If he comes back, order me another vodka tonic, okay?"

  Paige nodded.

  Linda patted Nathan on the shoulder as she walked by.

  Sorry pal, but you just struck out, better luck next time.

  He turned and watched her walk away. His anger was undeniable. He only wondered why he felt it. Was it because he didn't believe her or because he did? Was it because she had shattered his illusions, his hopes? His eyes lingered on her for a moment and then she was gone. His emotions were conflicted, a mixture of anger and shame. He couldn't bring himself to look at Paige. He was afraid of what she was thinking, feeling. He turned and looked down the street, his eyes sweeping quickly over the various shops before he looked back at the photograph.

  He hated the picture. It was proof, solid proof that what he'd believed was wrong. Though exactly what he had believed, he wasn't entirely sure. He hadn't decided on a theory that explained how all this had been possible. The damn picture forced him to face the reality that this woman wasn't who he thought and hoped she was. She wasn't his wife, his Paige, only an amazing lookalike. A woman who had recently graduated from the same college that his wife had claimed to have attended and had been flying out to hook up with an old friend and start a new job. A new life. Coming out to the west coast to take a job that had been arranged by her friend who worked for the blood sucking lawyers of the firm of Johnson, Barnes and...

  He swung around, banging his knee against the table and startling Paige. His eyes wide, he scanned the street.

  "No way," he said to himself.

  "Nathan?"

  "You have got to be kidding me."

  He focused again on the picture. His eyes searching, scanning every inch. There had to be something, anything. Then it hit him.

  "Jesus! How the hell could I miss it? So damn obvious. It's right in front of my face."

  "Nathan?" There was a slight tremor in her voice and Nathan knew his actions were scaring her. Hell, he was scaring himself.

  He looked at her over the table and reached out his hand.

  "Paige, we've got to get out of here. Now."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Linda leaned against the end of the bar, sighing audibly. There was a fat woman in an obnoxious flower print moo-moo who turned and shot her a dirty look. Linda briefly considered explaining that the sigh wasn't meant for her, but decided to hell with it. Let the fat bitch think what she wanted. It wasn't the woman in the moo-moo who was the target of her disgust, it was Kassar. Him and his stupid insistence on the use of landlines for all communications. Her cell phone was encrypted, but apparently that wasn't good enough. While she didn't know the details, she did know that Kassar had been burned in the past over intercepted communications.

  "Not like I am going to tell you anything interesting anyway," she muttered to herself. And that was the truth. The only thing she would be able to tell Kassar was that she had made contact. She did not know anything about this Nathan person. She hadn't been able to really ask anything yet. She had more or less been on defense since their arrival, which irritated her to no end.

  What the heck was that all about? Was this guy angry at her? If so, why? He certainly seemed to be pushing. Was it possible he knew something?

  No, of course not. How could he?

  No it didn't seem logical that he could know anything, but then it didn't make sense that he should show up to have dinner with what he believed was an old friend of Paige's and then proceed to give her a thinly veiled third degree.

  Paige hadn't seemed to notice or if she had, Linda hadn't been able to tell. But then she shouldn't have noticed anything, should she? Wasn't that part of the reason Linda had recorded so many sessions? Paige had definitely seemed to be oblivious to the little power struggle, though how could she not have noticed? Was he stressed? If so, it had come across as barely contained hostility to Linda. Had he maybe been nervous about meeting Paige's friend? Did that make any sense? He could only have met Paige a day or so ago, right?

  So if he had only met her a day ago and was comfortable being around her and she obviously comfortable enough around him to blow off what she believed to be a very important job opportunity, then why the instant dislike?

  "This whole thing is fucked up if you ask me."

  She opened her purse and reached for her cigarettes, but then stopped.

  Can't do that. Not here. Secondhand smoke. Bunch of whining bastards. Secondhand smoke my ass. Everyone is going to bite it sooner or later. Let me poison my lungs if I want.

  She shook her head and noticed the fat woman was gone.

  How the hell did I miss that ship pulling out of dock?

  She motioned for the bartender and asked if she could use the phone. The man behind the bar nodded, smiled and produced a wired phone from under the bar, placing it before her.

  Linda dialed a number and waited as it connected.

  "Yes?"

  "I need a secure line," she said quietly into the phone.

  "One moment."

  She could hear the man on the other end try and fail to stifle a yawn and wondered how often the guy actually fielded calls these days.

  "Your line is clear, you may proceed."

  "Thank you," she said, even though she heard the click as the man switched off and she again heard a dial tone.

  She dialed Kassar's office number. She did not know if he would be there or not, but that didn't matter as he always had his calls routed to his current location.

  "Kassar here."

  She shivered at the sound of his voice. Was he ever in a good mood?

  "It's Linda."

  "I know."

  "I've made contact," she said, then as an afterthought added, "she's here."

  "I assumed that is what you meant by making contact."

  She winced. Damn, he made her so nervous. Just make the damn report and hang up.

  "Is that all?"

  "Umm...no."

  "Who is she with?"

  "A guy. His name is Nathan. They j..."

  "Nathan what?"

  "I haven't managed to get that far yet."

  "What does he look like? What does he do?"

  "I don't know yet"

  "You don't know what he looks like?"

  "No, I meant I don't know what he does yet."

  Linda wiped the sweat from her brow.

  "Cute. About five-eleven, maybe six feet tall. Brown hair, blue eyes, decent build without being too muscular. I snapped a picture," she said as she fumbled with her cell phone. "I am dumping it to the address Jimmy gave me, he'll be able to retrieve the image for you."

  "What's he like?"

  "Nosey," she responded immediately.

  "Nosey? How so?"

  "Kind of hard to put into words exactly. He has done almost nothing but ask questions since they arrived."

  "How is that unusual? How else do you get to know someone you just met?"

  No shit! Why don't you let me explain before you try and belittle me.

  "True," she said with a sigh. "And if he were asking questions about me I wouldn't think twice. But he isn't, not really. I don't know. It's like he is asking questions about Paige. It is like he is quizzing me or something. Like he doesn't believe that I am her friend or that I know her."

  "What?" The tension, controlled anger really, was audible.

  "Yeah. He wanted memories about school. Hell, I am glad I had that picture of the two of us. That seemed to at least shut him up."

  "A picture of you two? That was good thinking. I'll have to commend Jimmy."

  "Jimmy? Hell, that was my idea."

  "Really?"

  What? You don't believe me?

  "Yes, sir. This entire thing seemed so off that after talking to Paige earlier I figured it wouldn't be a bad idea."

  "You apparently thought corr
ectly."

  Sure, don't even try and hide the surprise in your voice.

  "Jimmy did a convincing job?"

  Jesus Christ! What are you, the fucking president of the Jimmy Hanson fan club?

  "No sir. That is, Jimmy didn't have anything to do with it. I was able to do it myself."

  "Really?"

  "Yes, nothing to it really. With computers today and basic photo editing software it really isn't that hard."

  "I see. It looked real?"

  "Yeah, it looked fine. Even roughed up the picture to make it look old."

  "I didn't ask if it looked fine. I asked if it looked real."

  "Yes, it looked real. Listen, I better get back to them before they wonder what is holding me up. I'll have a full report sent to you before the end of the evening."

  "I look forward to it. Good work, Linda."

  Good work? Such high praise, be still my heart.

  She had to stop herself from saying those words out loud. She reminded herself that she had challenged him earlier and was sure he hadn't forgotten that. She also reminded herself that this assignment was almost done and that her much needed vacation was almost upon her. Maybe when she got back she could get herself quietly reassigned. The benefits weren't worth the stress.

  "Thank you, sir."

  She hung up the phone and leaned against the bar. Her hands were trembling and she grabbed a hold of the bar to stop them. Anger and fear raced through her, jockeying for top billing.

  "Come on Linda, just keep it together for a little while. Hawaii awaits. Sex. Sun. Sex. Sand. Sex. Drinks served in coconuts with little paper umbrellas," she murmured to herself. And of course more sex, maybe even with her husband.

  She smiled at the thought. She turned and headed back for the patio, a smile playing on her lips as images of hard bodies in Hawaii ran through her mind.

  Her new good mood lasted exactly forty-three seconds. On second number forty-four all thoughts of sex in Hawaii abandoned her. She stood staring across the patio. The empty chairs mocked her. She could almost hear them laughing at her.

  "Oh, fuck me."

  She hadn't yelled it, but had said it loud enough to draw more than a little attention from the tables around her. Well screw them and their delicate ears. If they knew Kassar, they might have thought her comment was the ultimate in understatements.

  She shivered as she broke out in a cold sweat.

  What the heck had it been? Where had she screwed up? Nothing, right? Everything had gone fine. Sure, the guy had been on edge, but she'd put him at ease. Hadn't she? Well maybe not, but she had at least shut him up with the picture.

  "Oh shit," she muttered, still loud enough to get looks from the table to her right.

  Kassar's words echoed in her mind. It looked real?

  It had, hadn't it?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  She couldn't believe the words that had just come out of his mouth. Where the heck was this coming from? Even more shocking than his words, Paige couldn't believe she was thinking of following his actions. For a moment she sat there stunned, looking at Nathan's out stretched hand. It was something more than the certainty of his voice, something inside her screamed at her to believe him. To follow him. She took his hand and rose from the table.

  Nathan glanced towards the door. Paige could almost hear the argument that was raging in his head, weighing the chances of slipping out through the restaurant without being seen. She did not know why he thought so, but it was obvious he felt it very important that they not get seen by Linda. It was insane, but she felt a slight tremor of fear ripple through her at the thought of Linda's return. What the heck was the matter with her? Linda was her friend. She would never do anything to hurt her. Would she? She didn't know if she was just picking up on Nathan's anxiety or if it was something else entirely. She only knew she did not want to find out what might happen if Linda returned and they were still there.

  Nathan decided it was too much of a risk to go out the front. He pulled her to the railing around the patio. He hopped over it easily.

  "Do you need any help?" he asked as calmly as if he were asking her if she thought it might rain.

  Despite the insanity of the entire situation, she heard herself answer, "No."

  She mimicked his action and joined him out on the sidewalk. Nathan looked up and down the street, ignoring the strange looks and comments from the restaurant patrons seated on the patio.

  "Are you going to explai..."

  Nathan raised a hand to silence her. If she hadn't seen the intensity in his eyes she might have pressed further. She began to feel a bit queasy and a bit impatient to be gone from here. But that was ridiculous, wasn't it? Why was she feeling this way?

  Paige didn't know the answers to any of those questions, but she couldn't deny her feelings. And right now her feelings were telling her that she should be afraid of her old friend.

  Nathan scanned the street, not a taxi in sight. He took hold of Paige's hand and began to move quickly, not quite running, up the street. Paige did not resist.

  When they reached the corner he risked a look back at the restaurant. Still no sign of Linda as far as he could tell and it didn't look as if any of the others from the restaurant were still following their progress. No doubt they just assumed they were skipping out on the check and obviously did not care.

  They stood there for what seemed an eternity. It was clear to Paige that Nathan was weighing his options. She remained quiet, not wanting to throw off his concentration. She didn't know what decision he was trying to come to, but she felt it was very important that he be allowed to come to the right one.

  "Let's go."

  They raced across the street, Paige never hesitating. The crosswalk had already been flashing when they started and more then one person blew their horn in irritation at having to wait on them. Each blow of the horn made Nathan wince. The last thing he wanted was to draw attention. He only hoped Linda wasn't back on the patio yet, otherwise the honking horns would surely alert her to where they were. He wasn't willing to risk another glance back, not yet.

  Paige waved at the man in the red Corvette as they finally reached the other side of the street. He had just been about to slam his horn again, but Paige's wave and smile stopped him and he waved back, giving her only a semi-irritated smile and then stepped on the gas as soon as the couple was clear, rocketing past them.

  Nathan did not stop moving. With Paige firmly in tow, he proceeded up the street a little further and then pulled her into a pharmacy. It was only once they were inside and safely obscured by numerous fliers and advertisements plastering the windows that he looked back. He found a small patch of window between a missing puppy flier and a poster advertising a sale on Crest toothpaste and trained his eyes back down the street to the patio of the restaurant. Beside him, Paige remained quiet, still tightly holding his hand.

  He didn't see her. He looked at his watch and then back at the patio. Had she already come back? Had she seen them fleeing? And if so, what did that mean? Really, what did that mean? Why the hell was he so certain that he and Paige shouldn't be seen by this woman? What exactly was he so afraid of?

  Besides the obvious possibility of losing Paige? And of course the picture.

  His desire to argue aloud with himself was almost as strong as his desire not to be seen by Linda.

  There! There she was. Linda had just appeared upon the patio. He saw her looking at the empty table. She was much too far away for him to see her facial expression, but he was certain it was one of barely controlled rage. No one liked being ditched, but Nathan was certain that she was more upset then the average person would have been.

  He watched her as closely as the distance and his vantage point allowed. She turned and talked to the people at the table near theirs. One person at the table was gesturing, obviously relaying the story of their escape over the patio railing. She leaned in on the guy, who pulled back from her. Even from here, Nathan could tell Linda was not making
any new friends. A moment later the man pointed down the street in the opposite direction from where they were. Nathan silently thanked the man, perhaps he too had an uneasy feeling about Linda and was intentionally misdirecting her or maybe he just didn't like having his personal space invaded and was giving bad info as payback. Either way, he was grateful for the assistance with their escape.

  Escape? Yes, that was exactly how Nathan thought of it. They had escaped Linda. He didn't know just what her intentions had been, but they had escaped them for the moment. Unfortunately the other guest at the man's table either didn't sense anything wrong with Linda or value his sense of personal space and was pointing in the direction he and Paige had actually fled.

  Nathan had the impulse to jump back away from the window, an urge to hide, certain that Linda would be able to spot him at the window as easy as if he were standing in an open field. He watched as she began to look up the street and the urge continued to grow until it was almost irresistible. He likely would have jumped back in the next few seconds if it hadn't been for the bus.

  A city bus pulled to a stop in front of the pharmacy, blocking his view of the patio. He felt Paige give a gentle tug on his hand and knew exactly what she was thinking. He wanted to get out of here and he was certain that Paige did as well. He didn't know why she felt the same, perhaps his own paranoia was infectious. For a moment he was tempted to do exactly what she was thinking and run out to the bus. He backed from the window and even took a step towards the exit, but he stopped himself. Paige looked at him, a question in her eyes. Truthfully a dozen questions, but she said nothing. She just stood there looking at Nathan, waiting for him to decide. If they wanted to catch the bus they would have to move now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  "I'm telling you they went that way, Mike," the woman argued with her husband. "They jumped the railing, stood there for a minute and then went that way."

  The man began to argue, but Linda tuned his words out. She trusted the woman more, not out of some misguided sense of sisterhood, but she was just so certain. And there was the small fact that, unlike the man, her chair faced the street and she would have been in the better position to observe where the two had fled.