Live Love Rewind: The Three Lives of Leah Preston

by Glynn, Anne

  “He’s younger than you.”

  “A few years younger, I think. Two or three.” Four or five, she admitted privately. She knew why Neal had mentioned the age difference. She was attracted to Jon and he’d noticed.

  Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, the gardener wiped at the nape of his neck. Not for the first time, she noticed that his ring finger was bare of jewelry. A faint circle of white remained on his sun-darkened hand, the only indication that his wedding band had ever existed.

  She still found herself drawn to him but fought against her feelings. Weeks earlier, wondering if she might have somehow misunderstood the meaning of the ring on his finger, she’d finally decided to ask a neighbor if there was a Mrs. Terenzio.

  It was Rita Talsman, of all people, who confirmed that Neal was a married man. Her metal walker in attack position, the old woman had peered at Leah suspiciously.

  “Why do you ask such questions?” she demanded. “I was there, at the ceremony three years ago. It was on Valentine’s Day. Go away! It’s time for Wheel of Fortune!”

  In reflection, Leah wondered why anyone would invite such a prune-faced witch to their wedding. It was another of life’s mysteries.

  She tried to remain cool toward Neal as he continued to find excuses to stop by her apartment. She pretended he only wanted to develop a friendship with her but both of them were aware of his deeper feelings.

  He said, “The man in the suit. Was he here about the job you mentioned?”

  “The GJSA thing, yeah. He took some fingerprints – they use a clear gel now, it’s actually good for the skin – and asked a couple of questions.”

  “What’s next?”

  “I wait.”

  “It’s never a pleasure, waiting,” he said, “but some things are worth waiting for. All the best things.”

  His eyes locked with hers, inviting her to direct the conversation to more personal matters. As before, she pretended not to notice.

  “Cross fingers for me,” she said. “The pay is good, there’s a chance to travel, and I’ll be working for the people who run our country. It has to be better than what I’m doing now.”

  Chapter Four

  “It’s so nice to meet you, Miss Preston,” Viola Stone told her. “I trust you won’t be tardy next time.”

  Standing beside the flat screen monitor at the head of the class, Viola’s body was angular and her skin was as black as agate. She had the sweetest face Leah had ever seen but the tone in her voice suggested, In the future, tardiness will not be tolerated.

  Leah made a mental note to arrive at least a half hour early for all future classes. “Sorry I’m late. The man at the front desk sent me to the wrong floor.”

  The classroom was fairly large, with chairs for at least thirty people. Except for the instructor, there was only one other person in the room. Sitting at the front desk, he turned at the sound of her voice.

  Eli Rannell was slender and friendly-looking, his buzz cut and clean-shaven face lending him a military air. “I’m happy you made it,” he said. “I was starting to feel a little lonesome.”

  Leah sat beside him. “I’m glad I’m not the last one here.”

  “But you are,” Viola said. “Now that you’ve arrived, the class is complete. The two of you should be pleased. We had over three hundred applicants for the position. Of the nineteen candidates that met our criteria, only four made it through the screening process.”

  “What happened to the other two?” Eli asked.

  “They washed out. The medical eval.”

  Leah understood what she meant. The medical evaluation had been brutal, lasting for nine full days. The testing, probing, and repeated blood draws soon felt all-consuming. She’d been clothed for the first week. Totally naked for the last three days.

  No one in the lab had appeared to even notice her nudity. She’d never felt less sexy in her life.

  “It went well past the ‘pee in a cup’ phase, didn’t it?” Viola said.

  “When you were hired, did you go through it, too?” Leah asked her. “Does everyone go through that entire battery of tests?”

  “Heavens, no. It’s terribly expensive.”

  Eli gave her a look and Leah shrugged.

  I know how you feel, Eli, she thought. What kind of career requires so thorough a physical evaluation? At the end of it, I was so exhausted, I could barely stand.

  I assumed I was applying for another desk job. What exactly does an ‘ambassador’ for the GJSA do, anyway?

  Eli said, “Which brings up....”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m still trying to get a feel for the job we’ll be performing. What are our responsibilities going to be?”

  “In due time, Mr. Rannell,” the instructor promised. “First, I’d like to learn a little about the two of you.”

  Leah reflected on the stacks of paperwork she’d completed and the series of interviews she’d undergone. When she saw her name on the file folder in Viola’s hand, she felt uncomfortable, just as she had in the laboratory: completely exposed and more than a little vulnerable.

  Leah said, “There can’t be anything else left to know.”

  “I’ve gone over your applications, I’ve studied your prior histories, and I’ve personally confirmed much of the information I was given. But an individual is so much more than just some words on paper, don’t you think?” Pulling up a chair, she sat across from them. “Tell me about yourselves.”

  Later, Leah would reflect on how Viola had guided the conversation, revealing little about herself or the position they’d accepted. When she did speak of their new careers, the classroom leader provided generalities about the GJSA and offered vague promises of classified information to follow. Meanwhile, she expertly led each of them into discussing their hopes and fears. Seduced by her gentle coaxing, they each talked about their struggles in their early life and their dreams for the years to come.

  When Eli spoke, Leah discovered some strong similarities in their histories. Both of them came from small families and neither of them had any brothers or sisters. Over time, and following a number of moves, Eli had lost contact with most of his close friends. He hadn’t yet found many new ones.

  Like her, he’d reached a point in his life where he was ready for a chance at doing something different and interesting. He’d been spending too much time bored and alone.

  Leah said, “I think I know what you mean. Most of my suppers are meals-for-one.”

  “Never give up hope.” Eli glowed with happiness. “There’ll be no more Lean Cuisine Singles dinners for me. I’ve met the most wonderful man.”

  Viola Stone grew silent with this revelation.

  Too late, Eli realized he might have said too much. “That’s not going to be a problem, is it? I mean, I haven’t made a secret of my sexuality.”

  “Have you discussed this with anyone?”

  “Everyone knows I’m gay. Even my next door neighbor knows, for God’s sake, and he never leaves his apartment.”

  Viola flipped through the sheets on her clipboard. “I see you met with Agent Wexler. You told him you weren’t dating.”

  “I didn’t see where it was any of his business,” Eli told her defensively. “Besides, I thought it was just a fling. I didn’t realize it was going to get so serious, so fast.”

  “Then things changed.”

  “Roger has been completely under wraps. I’d have scared him off, talking about FBI men and security checks. He’d have freaked.”

  Growing pale, Eli dabbed at his forehead with a paper tissue. He acted as if he was about to freak, too.

  Soothingly, Viola said, “Take a deep breath, Mr. Rannell. This organization doesn’t discriminate based on sexual preference.”

  He exhaled softly. “Roger’s a great guy, no criminal anything, not even a parking ticket. He’s a real estate broker.”

  “I’m impressed you were able to keep him hidden.”

  “It was an effort. The GJSA was calling e
veryone I knew, checking everything.” Curling the tissue inside his fist, he added, “I mean, I can see where people have to be checked out but not Roger. You’ll see.”

  “I expect we will.”

  “Am I in trouble?”

  “For being clever?” To Leah, Viola said, “What about you, Miss Preston?”

  “I...uh, I like men.” She glanced at her table partner. “Too.”

  Eli grinned.

  “I meant, do you have a secret boyfriend? Have you found yourself a significant other?”

  An image of Neal Terenzio flashed in Leah’s mind. Inevitably, the mental picture was accompanied by the memory of his wedding ring.

  She said, “I’m thinking of getting a cat.”

  “I’ve heard short-haired Burmese are delightful.” The tension eased from Viola’s shoulders. “Next, why don’t we all try a little word association?”

  Chapter Five

  Son of a Preacher Man sang from her cell phone, waking her. It was nearly pitch black in her bedroom, courtesy of a pair of effective blackout shades, but Leah caught a glimpse of her bedside alarm clock as she answered the call.

  It was 5:57 AM.

  “Good morning, Ms. Preston,” Viola Stone said cordially. “Sorry to call so early but I wanted to inform you that Agent Wexler is on his way to your residence. He should be at your door within the hour.”

  “Ummm.”Class doesn’t start until 9:00, her brain offered fuzzily. Why is Jon coming here so early?

  In fact, why is he coming here at all?

  “Are we still meeting in the main building?”

  “Class is over. You did quite nicely.”

  Class can’t be over, she wanted to say. I haven’t learned anything! “What about Eli? Will he be coming, too?”

  “Mr. Rannell isn’t going forward in the process,” Viola said coolly. “You’ll be meeting with your immediate supervisor this morning. Dress appropriately.”

  The call ended. Leah let her head sink into the pillow.

  Viola’s call didn’t make any sense. Eli was out? But why?

  Was he fired because he was gay?

  Or because he was in a relationship?

  Because he was no longer all by himself, living in a lonely bubble?

  Now Eli has someone nearby who cares about him, she realized. Someone watching over him, someone who notices when he comes and goes.

  I don’t have anyone here. Well, there’s the apartment gardener. It’s obvious Neal cares. But he doesn’t count, not on any real level.

  Mom worries about me but, because of her hearing loss, she hates to call. Because she’s ancient, she never texts. Weeks can go by without any contact between us.

  Suddenly, she felt uneasy about her new career. She wondered, Was I hired because I was the best candidate? Or was I hired because I’m the person least likely to be missed?

  Leah remained in bed, her thoughts jumbled, until she noticed the time. She had less than a half hour to get ready.

  Don’t want to be late on my first day, she thought. For whatever the job is.

  # # #

  She answered the knock at her door. Just as handsome as she remembered, Jon Wexler presented her with a potted flower.

  The story of my life, Leah thought. Guys keep bringing me flowers when what I really want is chocolate.

  The petals were lavender, and so dark that they looked dyed. “My favorite color,” Leah told him.

  “There’s a note.”

  Taken by the flower’s beauty, she’d overlooked the attached message. Wondering what Jon might have written, she turned the note over.

  Thought you would enjoy these.

  Neal

  “A friend?” Jon asked.

  He sounded more than simply curious and, for a moment, she felt flattered. Then she remembered why Jon was on her step. He had a job to do.

  She remained part of his duties. Even after being hired, she remained under investigation.

  She had to be honest with herself. There wasn’t a chance in hell this David Boreanaz-lookalike was intrigued by her.

  Maybe if I was ten years younger and twenty pounds lighter. She said, “Neal’s the landscaper here.”

  Jon stepped aside as she left her apartment. On the drive into the city, he barely spoke.

  Distracted, Leah used the time to gaze out the car’s side window and wonder exactly how she’d gotten to this place in her life.

  Mom always taught me to do as I was told, she thought. Follow the rules, she said, and you’ll succeed.

  I’m beginning to think she was wrong.

  I’ve always tried to be the good little bee. Did as the teachers asked, got good grades. Didn’t get a scholarship but I made Honor Roll almost every semester.

  I wasn’t anything like Jenna Beasley. Jenna skipped class as often as she could. She barely graduated.

  In college, I smoked marijuana one time and fell asleep for the rest of the day. I bought the pot from Jenna, who was selling joints behind the Fifth Avenue Burger King.

  My high school sweetheart, Craig Arevalo, tried his best to get me to do the deed with him but he never got past third base. Mom said a lady didn’t do those kinds of things, not without a ring on her finger.

  My relationship with Craig ended abruptly when I caught him banging All-Too-Easy-Beasley in the front seat of his black Ford Fairlane. In October, Craig and Jenna celebrated another anniversary together. They live in a nice two-story Craftsman with its very own, honest-to-goodness, white picket fence.

  Meanwhile, my only half-decent relationship ended in divorce. I have no house, no savings, and I’m about to start my third new job in less than two years.

  What’s wrong with this picture?

  Jon waved at the guard as they entered the GJSA parking garage. Leah said, “When I was here yesterday, I didn’t need anyone with me.”

  “You’re going to a different floor today. On the upper levels, everyone requires an escort.”

  He remained distantly professional as they rode the elevator to an upper floor. Exiting onto the sixteenth level, they crossed the hallway to enter a room painted in eggshell white.

  At Jon’s appearance, the secretary in the anteroom rose without speaking. Leaving the room, she closed the door behind her.

  “Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Leah said softly. She could hear the strain in her voice.

  “It’ll be okay,” Jon reassured her. Placing his hand lightly on her elbow, he guided her toward the interior office.

  The utilitarian space before her was no more special than the outer room. Except for a silver digital clock, the white walls were barren. There were a few pieces of furniture, four chairs, a desk, and an end table, but everything in the office appeared to have been selected solely for functionality. The room lacked any sense of personality or style.

  The woman behind the metal desk was as physically exceptional as the room was plain. The nameplate on the desk read Clarissa Dayne. If the person sitting there was Ms. Dayne, she had the thick blonde hair, flawless ivory skin, and emerald green eyes of a supermodel. Her designer dress flowed over her body, emphasizing the perfection it enclosed. She wore no jewelry except for a pair of small but dazzling diamond earrings.

  The woman said, “Is this her?”

  The FBI agent dipped his head.

  Clarissa stood up, offering a manicured hand for Leah to shake.

  Leah said, “I’m pleased to meet you.”

  The other woman’s pouty, pink lips twitched at the remark. “Remarkable.”

  Jon gave Leah a sympathetic look. Like her, he knew what the supervisor meant to convey with her response: There were hundreds of applicants but, somehow, through some terrible miscarriage of the hiring process, this is what made it to my door?

  “Why don’t you wait outside, Agent Wexler?” Clarissa said. “I’ll call you when I need you.”

  The last sentence simmered with a sexual undercurrent but the FBI man responded as if he hadn’t noticed. He exited the
room.

  “Sit,” Clarissa said. Taking her own advice, she returned to her seat.

  Sitting a small, wooden chair, Leah faced the other woman.

  “I personally read through every application we received,” Clarissa told her. “Yours was far from the top of my pile.”

  “Oh.”

  “I preferred a younger candidate. I didn’t want someone so – experienced.”

  ‘Old’ is what she means, Leah realized.

  “Your job history is unimpressive, Miss Preston. Your personal history is just as prosaic. If you were ever going to accomplish anything of note, you’d have done so by now.”

  Insulted, Leah’s first instinct was to leave. Calming herself, she decided she wouldn’t let this woman get under her skin. Some of what Clarissa was saying might be true yet, as Viola Stone had recently stated, a person was more than the strings of words written on a standard, preprinted form.

  With all of your spies, all of your investigations, there are still things you don’t know about me, Leah wanted to say. Did you know I once wrote a novel? It wasn’t any good, I ended up shredding every page, but I completed it. Me.

  You know I went to Bellebrook but you probably think film school was just a lark. Not for me. I graduated at the top of my class. If I hadn’t decided to get married instead, I’d be a producer. You’d be seeing my name on movie posters.

  When I was fifteen, I wanted to be Nora Roberts, making my mark on the bestseller list. When I was twenty, I thought I might be a sculptor. With the right training, I’m certain I could have been an artist.

  I had hopes, I had ambitions, but life swept me along. That’s what life does, it carries you along until you look up and you’re nowhere near where you wanted to go. By then, it’s too late to turn back.

  In this situation, it’s probably for the best. You wouldn’t have hired a writer or an artist, no matter their qualifications. What I am is what you need.

  A middle-manager.

  “I met the job qualifications,” Leah said, striving to maintain an even tone. “The listing asked for a facilitator and that’s one of my strengths. Besides, I’m not exactly ancient.”