The Dating List (31 page)

* * * *

"Hiya, babycakes. Miss me?"

Tara looked up horrified to see Mark squeezing back
into the seat next to her. She shrank back against the wall of the
plane, trying to put as much distance between them as possible. He
smiled at her, his flat nose seemed to grow bigger, now that she
sat so close to him. Stubby fingers moved toward her on the
armrest.

"Don't touch me!"

"Come on, you introduced yourself to me, baby,
remember?"

"So what? I might shake a dog's paw, doesn't mean I
want him drooling all over me."

"Who's drooling?" He raised his eyebrows.

"It's a metaphor, stupid."

"Hey! Don't call me stupid, big…big..." His hand
clenched into a fist.

"Do you want me to call the stewardess?"

"Whatcha gonna tell her, eh? That I gave you a
compliment?"

"Compliment?" She shot him a dirty look.

"Yeah, you got a nice rack. What's wrong with that?"
He relaxed back into his seat.

"Keep your eyes…your…everything…to yourself."

"Did I touch you?"

She shook head slowly.

"So what's your beef? Not that I wouldn't like to
touch you…those, uh…maybe when we get to the
island
paradise
…you and me could…uh…hook up." He grinned.

Tara crossed her arms over her chest and avoided his
stare.

"Come on, baby. Don't be such a killjoy." He placed
his hand on her knee.

Tara moved her arm from her chest long enough to
reach for the call button for the stewardess when Mark cut her off
by grabbing her wrist.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he
threatened.

Tara's face went white.

Across the aisle, Mick awoke to a woman's voice.

"Stop touching me!"

David got out of his seat and walked over.
"Everything ok, ma'am?"

"Yes, everything's ok," Mark replied, "now go back to
your seat before I rearrange your face."

"Sir, I'd suggest you calm down."

"Fuck you, I'll calm down," Mark said as he lunged
toward David. David was quick, quicker than he looked. He
sidestepped Mark, grabbed his arm, and threw him straight to the
floor. Mark smacked his face on a seat on the way down.

"Guess I failed to mention I'm a U.S. Air Marshall.
Now let's see who you are."

David removed the man's wallet and pulled out his
driver's license. "Mark Lipsit. I guess I should call you Mark
Dipshit, huh?"

He looked up at Tara and continued, "Ma'am, you
ok?"

Tara replied, "Yes sir, thank you very much. He
wouldn't keep his hands off me."

"Yes ma'am, I saw what happened. When we land, I'm
taking dipshit here in for harassment, sexual assault, and battery.
In the meantime, would you mind changing seats with me?"

Tara glanced over at Mick and a frowned creased her
forehead.

Another strange man?

David noticed her hesitation. "Ma'am, he's a Marine
flying on leave from Iraq. He's been in the air nearly twenty-five
hours and just wants to get some rest. Besides, if he tries
anything, I'm right here."

Tara smiled, her forehead became smooth again. She
pushed up out of her seat, and crossed the aisle. Mick stood up to
slip into the aisle so Tara could take the window seat. From under
thick lashes she looked him up and down.
He seems okay. Hmm,
pretty tall, maybe five eleven, broad shoulders, brown hair, eyes
the color of melted caramel. Not bad.

* * * *

"I'm Mick. Don't worry about me, I'm going to sleep,"
he said, before rolling on his side and closing his eyes.

Mick slept for fifteen minutes, but woke up again.
Damn conditioning. I wanted to sleep.
Now that he was awake
he glanced at Tara, who was engrossed in her book, checking her
out. S
lim—not skinny, beautiful auburn hair…to her shoulders,
perfect breasts, cute nose with a few freckles—pretty.
As she
turned the pages, he noticed the white mark on her finger from a
ring, but no ring. Something she was reading must have struck her
as funny because a grin lit up her face.
Wow.

Tara glanced at him out of the corner of her eye then
her gaze met his.

"Sorry, didn't mean to stare. Can't sleep.
You're…uh…well…um, really pretty. Please forgive me, don't be
scared, which—after what happened I'm sure you are. Go back to your
book, I won't bother you." Color crept into his cheeks.

THE RENOVATED HEART

Jean Joachim

Copyright © 2012

Chapter One

Kit Alexander ordered a Cosmopolitan, sat back, her
heart racing in anticipation of tomorrow's departure. After twelve
years of marriage, a career in banking and raising an
eleven-year-old daughter, Kit was finally going to live her dream
of becoming a published author.

With their daughter safely enrolled in boarding
school, she could accompany her husband on a world tour as the
newest band member of Blue Waters band. Tagging along as a band
wife,

Kit planned to write a book about her
experiences.

A tinny version of Johnny's favorite song came up.
The familiar sound meant a text message arrived on her phone,
causing her to put down her drink.

Are you all packed? Is Johnny there yet? Wishing you
an amazing trip, Hugs, Sarah.

Kit typed in,

Yes, no. Our first three cities are Amsterdam, London
and Prague. Thanks,lady. Hugs, Kit.

Sipping her Cosmo, Kit looked around La Nuit
Française—a posh, intimate French restaurant decorated in
turquoise, red and gold, tucked into the west side of Manhattan.
Beautiful people dressed in expensive clothing pretending to be
someone important filled the restaurant. In addition to paying
through the nose for the good food, they were also paying to be
seen.
Save me
from such pretention.
Wearing a sexy
dress in midnight blue silk, her dark cerulean blue eyes shining,
her spun gold hair draping well below her shoulders in loose curls,
she was the loveliest woman in the room.

A man approach her table, she smiled at her husband,
Johnny, as he plopped down in the empty chair across from her. He
ordered a beer plus another Cosmopolitan for Kit.

"You look great, Kit," Johnny said, taking a swig of
his beer. His gaze lowered to her neckline then returned to her
face.

"A fresh look for a new start…tomorrow I launch a new
life. We both do." She picked up the second Cosmo and took a
sip.

"We need to talk about tomorrow," Johnny said,
looking down at the silverware.

"I'm ready. I've crossed off almost everything from
my to-do list."

"You and that damn list. Always lists. Look, the
trip…the trip is… Well. The trip is just for me, Kit."

"What do you mean?" Her brow furrowed, her eyes
darkened.

"I mean, I'm not taking you with me," he replied,
shifting in his seat, avoiding her stare.

"What?" she asked as her breathing became shallow,
her chest tightening. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

"This is my big break. I've been playing in crummy
clubs for ten years, waiting for this chance. I…I want to do it
alone," Johnny said, finally able to look at her.

"Johnny, you can't be serious?"

"I am. I filed for divorce, Kit." His hands toyed
with his beer glass.

"Divorce?" Tears stung the back of her eyes.

"Yeah. We never see each other. You work days, I work
nights. We haven't really been a family for a long time."

"I thought we were working toward something
together," she said, taking a deep breath to force tears back.

"Maybe. But I don't remember what our goal is
anymore. I want to go on my own. You can stay here, watch out for
Zoe."

"You're leaving me?" Disbelief clouded her eyes as
she stared hard at him.

He nodded.

"Can't we talk about this?" she asked, hoping to
change his mind.

"Talking means you talking me out of something. My
mind's made up," he said, finishing his beer.

"But Johnny, this is my big break, too. I have an
agent interested in a book deal. I quit my job, we sublet our
apartment..." she couldn't finish, her mind reeled, a lump grew in
her throat, choking her, cutting off her breath.

Kit took a big gulp of her second Cosmo to push down
the lump as tears pricked at her eyes.

"Why would you do this…on the night before we leave?"
She tried to steady her voice.

"I didn't want to hurt you, but I don't want to be
married anymore," Johnny said, his stare rooted to the floor,
avoiding her eyes.

"You want other women?" she asked her lip quivering
as she fought for control.

"Maybe. Maybe I want to be free to do…whatever." He
tapped his foot under the tiny table.

Johnny reached into his jacket's breast pocket and
took out an envelope.

"Here are the papers. I'm giving you the apartment
plus most of our savings. I took out ten thousand dollars for
expenses on the trip."

"What?" she said, looking at him in disbelief, still
unable to get her mind around what he said.

"Look, I don't want to screw you financially. You've
been earning most of the money so I'm giving you the apartment.
Sell the place. I'll be making good money with the band."

"I can't sell our home, it's been sublet."

"Well, sell the place in a year then," he
insisted.

Kit tried unsuccessfully to steady her hand as she
took the envelope and tucked it away in her purse.

"You've got to sign those then send them to Mason, my
attorney."

"Mason? Mason Carter? What about Jack, our
attorney?"

"I left him for you."

"Why didn't you tell me this before…when…when…"

"I didn't want you to talk me out of leaving, like
you always do. A done deal. I'm leaving tomorrow. You can do what
you want, find what you want." He briefly looked in her eyes.

Kit tried again to blink back the tears, but
couldn't.

"Does Zoe know?"

"I didn't tell her. You're better at those things
than I am. I'll come see her in five months, at Christmas."

She looked at him with disbelief in her eyes. He
shattered her world into a million pieces in five minutes.

"I have no job…no place to live…"

"You've got a lot of friends, bunk in with one of
them. Now you can have whatever life you want, Kit. You're
free."

"Am I, Johnny? Why don't I feel free?" she said,
unable to stop the pain gathering in her chest, making breathing
normally difficult.

"Trust me; this is better for us both. I bet you have
a great new life by Christmas. And when I get back, we can hoist a
few and laugh about this."

"Laugh? I doubt I'll be laughing for some time. How
could you leave me flat like this?" Still refusing to believe the
facts he laid before her.

"You're strong…smart. You can take care of yourself.
You don't need me. You never have. In a month…maybe two, you'll
agree with me," he said, finishing his beer.

Kit gulped the rest of her Cosmo, then felt sick.

"Excuse me," she said, retreating to the ladies
room.

Once inside, she entered an empty stall and dropped
to her knees. The woman at the sink left quickly as Kit threw up
then burst into tears.

"Some women can't hold their liquor," the stranger
mumbled before opening the door. Kit waited for the tap on the
shoulder or the jarring ring of the alarm clock to wake her from
this bad dream. But relief never came. This wasn't a dream. No
waking up…she felt totally lost.

When she finally came out of the ladies room, Johnny
had gone. He had strewn some bills on the table to cover their
drinks. The waiter returned shortly after.

"Would you like to order now?"

"No. Thank you," she said, getting up on unsteady
legs. Kit grabbed the table, stopping to take a deep breath before
walking across the room to the door.

* * * *

When Kit returned to the apartment, to get her
suitcase and drop off final instructions for the people subletting
her apartment, Johnny's suitcases were gone. Tomorrow the renters
would arrive. She couldn't bear to spend the night alone in the
apartment, so she checked into the Broadway Continental hotel.
Three hundred dollars for one night! So what? I can't go
back
there.

Once in her room, she whipped out her laptop and set
it up on the desk facing the window. She stopped for a moment to
stare through the glass at the midnight sky. The twinkling stars
chilled her, and suddenly the reality of her situation hit home.
Alone. Totally alone. A chill ran up her spine causing her to push
further thoughts about her predicament out of her mind.