by Kris Tualla
She knew where he was heading.
She just wasn’t ready to go there.
The city below them was lit up like last month’s Christmas trees, sparkling brightly in the night. A pristine and beautiful façade hiding the dirt, crime, and homelessness that any big city experienced.
Pretending to be something it wasn’t.
How appropriate.
“Do the McKennas love you?”
Sveyn’s question pulled her attention back inside the restaurant. She hadn’t noticed that the waiter had left.
“They always said they did,” was the most she would give him. “But do you lie to someone you love?”
“Yes,” Sveyn said. “All the time.”
“What?” Hollis was shocked by his answer. “What do you lie about?”
“That everything will be fine, for a start. We give each other, and especially our children, the assurance that life will not hurt us.” Sveyn sipped his wine while she stared at him. “This is very good. You should try it.”
“That’s not the kind of lie I’m talking about and you know it.” She lifted her glass and took a sip without paying attention.
Sveyn set his glass down. “It is the kind of lie that soothes fears and makes us feel safe and cared for. Is that not what a father does in this century?”
“Well of course he does,” Hollis snipped.
“Does he work to support his family, and give up selfish things as he does so?”
“He’s supposed to.”
“Is he expected to love the mother of his children and care for her as well?”
“Less and less these days, I’m sad to say.” Hollis paid attention to her second sip. The deep red wine really was delicious.
Sveyn leaned forward and rested his elbows on the white tablecloth. “What have I forgotten?”
“I don’t know; see that his kids get an education?”
Sveyn smiled. “Yes. My father taught me to hunt and fish and tan leather, among other things. He wanted to be certain that I could take care of myself. And my own family someday, had I been blessed to have one.”
“A real father doesn’t beat his wife or kids,” Hollis added. “And he keeps his promises.”
Sveyn picked up his wine glass again. “Now tell me which of these things Mr. McKenna failed to do.”
Tears filled Hollis’s eyes and she dabbed at them with her cloth napkin. She refused to answer the question.
“What about Mrs. McKenna? Did she lie to you?”
Hollis’s hands dropped in her lap still clutching the napkin. “Of course!”
“Did she tell you she was proud of you when you did something small? Or tell you that you were pretty when you needed to hear it?” Sveyn made a tsk sound. “Such unforgivable deception.”
“Stop it.”
“When you were ill, did she give you adequate care?”
Hollis recalled the special bedtable that only came out of the closet when she was sick and needed to be still. It was painted with pink roses and held a storehouse of paper, crayons, and other distractions—usually a new toy.
“Hollis?”
She lifted her eyes to his. “What?”
“Did either of them ever say they regretted your presence in their home?”
That did it. The floodgates opened.
Sveyn reached out his hand. Hollis knew what he wanted her to do, and after a rebellious moment laid one palm in his—the one not wiping her tears. His fingers closed over her hand and his voice was gentle as he answered his own question.
“No. They did not. And I believe that they told you many, many times how blessed and happy they were to have you as a daughter.”
Hollis nodded, unable to speak.
“Please tell me: how are these not the actions of loving and caring parents?”
She sniffed wetly and croaked, “They still should’ve told me.”
“Yes, they should have.” Sveyn narrowed his eyes. “There must have been a compelling reason for them not to have done so. Do you agree?”
Hollis pulled her hand back, wiped her remaining tears, and sipped her wine in silence. She saw their waiter standing a ways off, trying to watch them without looking like he was watching.
“Do you know what you want to order?” she asked Sveyn.
“Yes. Do you?”
Hollis nodded.
Sveyn looked around for the waiter and nodded when he caught the man’s attention.
Hollis ordered quickly, knowing that her crying was obvious and trying to minimalize both the waiter’s and her discomfort. Once he was gone, Hollis looked at Sveyn again.
“I hope they had a compelling reason.”
Sveyn looked at his wine glass before asking. “Compelling in whose eyes?”
Damn it.
The path of all his questions was an infuriatingly logical one.
“I reserve the right to call bullshit.”
Sveyn gave her his best what-are-you-talking-about look.
Hollis huffed. “That means if I think their reason is crap, I get to say so.”
“You can certainly say so,” he agreed. “But be kind when you do.”
That stung. “I will.”
“Of course you will. Because you love them.” Sveyn smiled softly as he brought the conversation full circle. “And because they are the people who raised you to be the woman that you are.”
Then he lifted his wine glass as if offering a toast and gave her a crooked smile. “Please remind me to thank them.”
*****
The food in the slowly spinning restaurant was decent. Hollis told Sveyn when she chose this place for their date that the real draw was the three-hundred-and-sixty-degree view of Phoenix from the twenty-fourth floor.
In spite of that, Sveyn’s steak was delicious and Hollis said she had no complaints about her salmon. Dessert was a rich chocolate lava cake paired with a sweet white wine.
And coffee. Sveyn decided he liked coffee very much.
Part of their dinner conversation was spent in speculation as to what Hollis’s upcoming museum guests would expect to find.
“Before, when you were still an apparition, I was curious to see what they might feel or hear or see,” she told him. “But now they won’t find anything, so I’m not as interested.”
“What about the Blessing of the Gods?” he asked.
Hollis gave him an odd look. “I think the Exor-Clergy guys purged it.”
“You heard the screaming?” Sveyn thought he was the only one who could hear that.
“I did. Then it got very quiet.”
“If the purging is true—and it very well may be—then your guests will be paying a lot of money for nothing,” he warned.
Hollis shook her head. “Almost everybody would say that the Blessing was a myth anyway. And you never were a ‘ghost’ to begin with.”
She made two valid points. “Who is coming on Monday?”
“A group called People Unlimited.” Hollis swirled the back of her fork across her plate to scrape up the last of her chocolate. “Why?”
“I am just curious.” He copied her actions, retrieving one last mouthful of the dark deliciousness. “This will be my first chance to be a physical guard, so I am trying to anticipate any trouble.”
“You saw the rest of them.” She wrinkled her nose. “They’ve been harmless.”
“Have you looked up these unlimited people on the—on Google?” he corrected himself.
“Not yet.” Hollis pointed her sucked-clean fork at him. “Do you want to look them up on your phone while you finish your coffee?”
Sveyn pulled his phone out and swiped it awake. He clicked on the Google icon—that time ‘the’ Google was correct—and entered People Unlimited. He touched the magnifying glass that meant search.
“What is a cult?” he asked.
“Are they a cult?” Hollis reached for the phone. “Let me see.”
Hollis touched his phone’s screen twice and then read aloud, “People
Unlimited stands for physical immortality and unlimited life. Our mission is to provide an environment that supports life extension and physical immortality.”
“That sounds suspiciously like Everett Sage,” Sveyn grumbled. “I will not leave you alone with these people.”
“Yeah, this reporter’s source calls them a cult.” Then Hollis laughed and her amused gaze jumped up to his. “But their founder died at the age of seventy-nine. So much for physical immortality.”
Sveyn shook his head. “Being pinned to this earthly life for eternity is not a goal any man or woman should aspire to. It is miserable. And I know what I am speaking about.”
Hollis handed him his phone back. “Your situation aside, it’s got to be lonely. If the possibility was true, all your friends and family members who aren’t part of the cult would die, and you’d be stuck with the other cult members forever.”
Sveyn’s eyes widened as he read down the list of things the group charged for. “It seems that immortality is very expensive as well.”
Hollis chuckled and took the last sip of her wine.
Sveyn shifted his gaze to hers. “Do you feel better?”
Hollis smiled softly. “With you beside me, loving me, I can face anything.”
She sighed and twirled her empty glass. “Even un-compelling reasons, if it comes to that.”
Chapter Nineteen
Tuesday
February 2
Though the agency was skittish at first about going forward when he could not be legally hired, George proposed an unusual solution yesterday. “I offered them bail.”.
“Bail?” Hollis looked at Sveyn as if wondering if he knew what the word meant.
“Money given as a guarantee that the person in question will appear as required,” Sveyn said. “Yes, I am familiar with the process.”
George pointed at him, his expression triumphant. “Exactly. I initially offered them five thousand dollars, but they asked for ten.”
Hollis waved her hands. “Wait. Are you saying that if we give them ten thousand dollars, they’ll go ahead with Sveyn’s screen test?”
George nodded. “Yes. And when his paperwork comes through, we get the money back.”
Sveyn thought that made sense, except, “I do not have ten thousand dollars.”
“I do. It’s a drop in the bucket that I won in the civil suit against Sage.” Her expression turned mischievous. “Why not use it to help someone who really was immortal?”
So George delivered the cashier’s check to Robert Ford Unlimited yesterday afternoon, and Sveyn’s screen test was scheduled for one o’clock this afternoon.
Sveyn used the driving service where Hollis created an account to get a ride to the agency for his screen test today. He arrived freshly shaven as requested.
“There you are!” Rochelle strode across the agency’s lobby. “Right on time.”
She looped her arm through his. “We’ll start with hair, then do your makeup.”
That was surprising. “Makeup? Like a woman?”
“Wow. I forget what a virgin you are.” She opened a door into a dim room with an adjustable-height chair, large sink, and a big rectangular mirror rimmed in lights. “Here you go. Jane will take it from here.”
Sveyn assumed the aproned woman with short black hair who waited in the room was Jane, but Rochelle left without making a formal introduction.
“Hi, what’s your name?” she asked.
“Sveyn Hansen.”
“I’m Jane, as you heard, and I’ll be getting you gorgeous for the camera.” Her eyes swept over his frame. “Easy work today. Have a seat.”
Sveyn sat in the chair. Jane swung it around and lowered the back until the back of his neck rested on the rim of the sink. She turned the water on and let it run over her hand.
“Have you done a screen test before?”
“No.”
“Well, don’t stress. Just be yourself.” She flipped a switch and the water flowed through a rubber tube with a shower end on it. “Relax while I wash your hair and blow it dry.”
Just be yourself, she said.
That was not possible. Thankfully Sveyn’s new back story was close enough to his real life that he should not trip over it.
The shampooing felt good on his scalp. Jane used shampoo, a conditioner, and some additional product which Sveyn was unfamiliar with, but it smelled pleasant. She wrapped his head in a towel and sat him upright once again.
“You have great hair,” she said as she combed it. “Don’t ever cut it.”
Sveyn smiled. “I will not.”
Blowing it dry was awkward, as his hair kept going into his eyes. But when Jane finished and he looked at himself in the mirror, he was amazed.
“My hair looks very good,” he exclaimed, reaching up to touch it.
Jane grabbed his hand. “No touching! It’ll make it go flat.”
She tucked a paper bib around his neck. “I’m going to even out your skin tone with foundation, use a little bronzer low on your cheeks to emphasize your bone structure, and use a touch of mascara on those to-die-for lashes.”
Sveyn watched Hollis get ready for work every day, so he knew what the products were. He watched his reflection shift subtly with every layer until even he would declare himself a handsome man.
“You’re ready to go, Sveyn.” Jane pressed a button on the wall and it buzzed softly. “Remember, don’t touch anything.”
Rochelle opened the door. “Hot damn,” she murmured. “You look incredible.”
“Thank you.” Sveyn’s skin tightened with an uncomfortable blush.
“Let’s get this show on the road.” Rochelle led him to another dim room scattered with bright rectangle lights. One wall was dark gray, and a single stool stood in front of it. “This is Chad. He’ll be behind the camera while you and I have a conversation. Go ahead and get comfortable.”
Sveyn picked his way over electrical cords and around the legs of lights and cameras. He made it to the stool without damaging anything, and settled on its ample seat.
Because of the lights, he couldn’t see Chad or Rochelle from where he sat. Chad materialized, adjusting the angle of the lights then disappearing again behind his camera. After Chad repeated this action several times, Rochelle said, “Perfect.”
She stepped out of the darkness so he could see her. “Okay, Sveyn. You and I are just going to talk, like we met each other at a party and we want to get to know each other.”
“I understand.”
“What I need to see is your personality. Make love to the camera.”
Sveyn laughed. “I do not know how to make love to a camera.” Show your personality. “But I do know how to love a woman. Very well in fact.”
“Nice.” Rochelle looked at the stack of white cards in her hands. “What do you want in a relationship?”
That was easy.
Talk about Hollis.
“I want a woman who knows herself well and will not disappear when a strong man comes into her life,” he began. “A woman who can be a partner with me, and one whose desires and plans are like mine.”
“What are your desires and plans?”
“I want to marry. Have children. Buy a house to raise them in.” Sveyn hesitated before continuing, but his conviction was strong. “I want my wife to be able to raise our children without worrying about money.”
“What does that mean?”
“I will be considered old-fashioned, I think.” I know. “But I want to provide for my family so that they feel protected and loved.”
“What if your wife wants a career?”
Sveyn thought about that. Hollis will. “If she wants a career because she loves her work, I must accept this.”
He tilted his head, trying to make his explanation clear. “But I never want my wife to feel that she must do other work besides managing our home and caring for our children because I have not been enough of a man to adequately provide for them.”
Rochelle shuffled the car
ds in her hand and muttered, “I wish all men felt like that.” She looked up again. “Make me laugh.”
Sveyn grinned. “Shall I tell you a joke?”
“Sure.”
He thought a minute about some things he read about Vikings on the internet. “If the best thing you can say about France is that you left most of it standing, you might be a Viking.”
Chad laughed in the behind-the-camera darkness. “Good one!”
“If you finish your trip to England with more money than when you arrived, you might be a Viking.”
Chad laughed harder, and Rochelle deigned to chuckle.
“Is this what you wanted?”
“Yes, it’s perfect.” Rochelle turned to Chad. “Do we need more?”
“A little.”
Rochelle read a couple more questions from her cards and Sveyn answered with as much truth as he could. Half an hour after they began, she declared the screen test finished.
“We’ll edit it and send it to the Match Point marketing department today. They’ve been chewing my butt to get it ‘cause they want to launch the campaign Valentine’s weekend.”
“So soon?”
“Yes, so if they like it, we’ll be filming immediately.”
Sveyn shook his head. “The world works so quickly now.”
If Rochelle thought his comment was odd she didn’t let on. “If you want to see what we send them, I can email you a link.”
“I would like that.”
“Let’s go.” She around turned to lead him out of the morass of lights and cords. “Whatever you do, stay by your phone. And leave the ringer on.”
*****
Last night’s People Unlimited group was less scary than they were creepily weird. Even so, Sveyn stayed near her and well within earshot, and Hollis felt safe from the creepiness in his tall and silently threatening presence.
“They never stopped smiling,” she told Stevie as they worked in the Collections Storeroom. “Like if anyone frowned it would break the spell.”
Stevie opened one of the blue-lidded boxes they brought from Ezra Kensington the Fifth’s hoard. Blue lids meant the objects inside were most likely museum worthy and could be attributed to a specific owner.
