James

Santa Monica. Los Angeles, USA. January 2011.

"Who the hell are you?" she said, furious.

"James Marshall." he replied coolly, undeterred.

Staring at her door, pondering which approach to take when she would come out, James had been surprised by the quick opening of the door, and her brusque tone when she faced him. Saying his name has been an automatism.

Now, they were facing each other, more like staring, and evaluating the other.

She was the first to move, and pushed her wheeled suitcase past him saying, "Well, whoever you are Mr Marshall, I don't have time for whatever you are selling! I have a plane to catch..."

She was on her way to the elevators and almost there, when I said, "I'm not selling anything Ms McGregor, or should I say, Ms Muñez?"

"And, by the way..." I asked, "Is it Thalia or Victoryn?"

She stopped moving, and I could tell she was trying to control her breathing before facing me.

She finally turned around, smiled and said calmly, "I think we should talk."

I was surprised. Again. She was showing a coolness that she couldn't have felt.

Decidedly, a very intriguing woman.

She motioned me to the lift with her arm and said boldly, "I wasn't kidding. I have a plane to catch, so if you want to keep this conversation going, I guess you have to come with me."

It was my turn to smile. She had guts.

((~~!~~))

We were on Emirates flight EK216 from LAX to Dubai and would be landing in about 16 hours and I was starting to chill, sipping in my scotch, while she was looking at me, and waiting for an answer.

She had asked me whom I was working for as the lift descended in her building, and I had lazily replied, "Does it matter?"

She had pressed the emergency button, stopping the elevator; pushed me against the wall, her hand on my chest saying with a voice trembling with anger, "Listen to me Mr Marshall, if that's even your real name, I will be boarding my flight in 90 minutes. You can either be with me or sit on your ass in a police station. When this lift opens, I will have you arrested for trespassing. The doorman will take my word for it. Do you want to chance it and lose my trail, or tell me who you work for?"  

As I said, the woman had gumption.

Now 2 hours later, as we were sitting in first class seats, she had been asking me about my work, not giving anything away, and when I asked her when she would start talking about herself, she smiled and replied, "James, we have another 16 odd hours to get to know each other! All work, and no foreplay?"

She laughed. I liked her laugh.

Finally, after a few more minutes of banter, she said with a serious tone, "Answer this, and I will tell you anything you want to know about me."

She had asked the one question I didn't know how to reply.

See, in the lift, the decision had been easy: I didn't want to lose her, so I admitted working for McCarty. She had smiled sadly, pushed the lobby's button and then had asked if I had my passport on me. Her flight was international.

Now, after making ourselves comfortable, chitchatting, and settled for the long haul, she had finally said, "James, will you share whatever I tell you with Julian?"

I hadn't replied. Not yet anyway.

I didn't want to lie to her, so I was seriously thinking about what I would do with whatever information would be provided.

I knew she had two names that I knew of, I didn't know why yet, but suspected something huge.

I knew she was a frequent flyer. This had been confirmed at the Emirates counter when a hostess came to her, welcoming her back in Arabic, takings her bags, and then shepherded us smoothly through airport security and to the first class lounge with ceremony.

I knew she spoke several languages fluently, which made it easy for her to blend in if necessary.

I knew she was guarded, and only took me with her because, being smart, she wanted to keep in complete control over someone who evidently knew her identities until she knew more and could neutralize the said person. This is something I would have done myself if I had been in her shoes, and her quick thinking and reacting commanded my respect from a professional point of view.

But most importantly, I knew she could disappear again if I gave her a wrong answer.

We were headed for Dubai. I had no idea what or who was awaiting her there, but I would have bet my last dollar that if I gave her the wrong answer during this flight, she would disappear on me upon landing, and I wouldn't be able to find her this time.

She was clever and resourceful; she had done this before, and could do it again. I had to carefully consider whom I was dealing with, and what could be reported to my client.

Something else also made me think twice about my answer.

She intrigued me.

Yes, I know what you're thinking, he's thinking with the wrong head ... But no, I ain't.

In my line of work, you encounter all sorts of characters, but this woman was a mix of strength and vulnerability I don't see often. Add intelligence to that, and the fact that she was beautiful, that gives you an intriguing jigsaw puzzle.

I had the feeling she would tell me the truth about everything I would ask if she could get the same commitment from me.

I felt like she could see through me.

I didn't want to lie to her, so I didn't, and said, "I will tell him only what you allow me to tell him." looking straight into her green eyes.

She smiled, our glassed clinked, and she said, "Ask away, James."

((~~!~~))

Vi

I regained my composure fast when I saw the man in front of my door.

Show no fear, I told myself

That's the only way to get through things in life.

After he said his name, I perused his face, running it through my mind, trying to see if I knew him. No, was the answer. Then, I decided to send him packing.

I didn't have time for whatever his deal was.

I was almost at the elevators when he called my name, well, my names, actually. That made me stop; I was already thinking about who he really was and how I would ditch him.

Smile, I told myself, and then turned to look at him.

I needed to find out what he knew exactly. I ordered him to get into the lift with me, and asked him whom he was working for. When he refused to answer, sheer anger rushing through me, I pushed him violently against the wall, telling him if he didn't tell me right then and there, I'd have his ass hauled to jail. Was it worth it for him?

He was quick to decide he'd rather answer me instead, and admitted working for Julian. I felt relief and sadness.

So, Julian had sent him? He was looking for me? Why?

I decided not to ask anything more until I had formulated a plan on how to deal with James Marshall. His presence threw a wrench in my schedule, and I could forget the pharmacy. I had to take care of whatever his plans were as far I was concerned. I simply told him to come with me or get lost.

I think that took him by surprise because on the ride to LAX, I could tell he felt uncomfortable. I was silent the entire time, while he was asking me questions I didn't bother replying to.

Finally, at airport, I led the way to the Emirates counter and James seeing I was carted away by the VIP hostess bought a ticket on the spot to stay with me. Even in the business lounge, waiting for boarding, I did not say a single word to him.

I was busy thinking about all the reasons why Julian would send someone for me.

I thought about the night we shared and the ache I had been feeling since leaving him that morning, - Jesus, it was only yesterday! Why did it feel like weeks?!!!! -, but I also thought about Ethan. If Julian had sent someone to my address, it could only mean he knew who I was. How? I wasn't sure, and didn't care at this point. I was only concerned about what he would do with his knowledge.

Why did he send James? To get me back? Or to hand me over to Ethan?

With this in mind, I decided, the safest thing to do was to go to Dubai as planned, find what James knew, and then act accordingly.

See, I hadn't decided yet, if I would ditch the man upon landing in Dubai, or else. All would depend on our conversation.

When the plane took off, I knew I had James as captive audience. I relaxed, ordered some drinks, and asked a few questions about his work. He replied to all, and it appeared he was working for a security firm used by Julian's business manager, usually for corporate stuff, but when Julian had asked them to get someone to find me, he was assigned the job due to the sensitive personal side of it. Julian was a well-known actor, and anything regarding his private life would sell highly to tabloids, so no ordinary PI would do for this kind of work, the temptation to sell the information was too great for these guys apparently. That's when James came in. He was an ex-intelligence agent, turned corporate handler, and could do things, quickly, discreetly and efficiently.

Now that I had a better idea of the man I was dealing with, I was wondering if I should just tell him the truth, or not.

From what he had been saying, Julian did not know who I was. James hadn't called him yet to tell him he had found me. This was good. I could work with that.

When I had asked him why he hadn't reported anything yet, he grinned at me and sheepishly said, "I'm intrigued. I wanted to know more about you before giving my report," That made me smile and I replied, "Why James? Don't tell me you are already falling in love with me?" His expression was shocked, and I laughed even harder.

This was going to be fun!

Deciding to push the banter, I added mockingly, "James, not to worry, I've got 10 years on you at least, you're a baby by my standards..."

He had smiled broadly and replied mildly offended, "How old do you think I am?"

"28 give or take," I said with a smile of my own.

"29," he admitted, somewhat surprised at my accuracy.

"See, you're a baby..." I laughed gently.

"Are you telling me you are 38?" he asked, incredulously.

"That's what I'm telling you." I replied, steady.

"No." he said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Yes." I stated, taking a sip of my drink.

"Women lie about their age." he quipped, his lips pouting.

"Not this woman." I grinned.

He was silent for a moment, and finally said slowly, "Well, I wouldn't have guessed."

I smiled even more. I was in control of this.

That's the moment I chose to ask him the most serious question of all.

"James, will you tell Julian whatever I tell you?" and I gave him a deep, serious stare waiting for his answer.

He took his time before responding, but finally said he would only report whatever I allowed him to.

I was now totally relaxed, smiled and told him to ask away.

He did.

We spent almost 6 hours straight talking, until I finally yawned more than I spoke and fell asleep.

When I woke up, I found James watching over me and I said in a sleepy voice, "You're creepy...Do you always stare at women when they sleep?"

"Only this woman." was his answer as he kept on staring, his expression unreadable.

I looked at him, wide-eyed, and said, "James?"

"Hmm?" he let out softly.

"Should I be worried? Are you going to tell him?" I asked holding his eyes.

"No. I don't want you to worry. Not about me anyway. I won't tell him or anyone anything." he smiled, and caressed my cheek, while placing a strand of my curls behind my ear.

I kept looking at him and finally whispered, "Thank you."

((~~!~~))

Vi and James

When we landed in Dubai, one of the Sheikh's Rolls Royce Phantom was waiting for me, and took us to the Burj al Arab. James was stunned by the majesty of the hotel. "7 stars?" he mumbled. I laughed.

I had been accustomed to the extravagance money can bring a long time ago.

James had decided to spend a few days with me before returning to the States.

I had some free time after all; we could enjoy a few days of peace before returning to our working lives.

When I had asked him how he would handle Julian, he had enigmatically replied, "Let me deal with him."

We had four fun days filled with camel rides, beach strolling, talking and drinking. It felt like I was holidaying with a friend, but I was worried as his departure date approached.

I was getting antsy about Julian. I had the feeling he hadn't taken my departure very well, and things would only get worse before they got better.

I was grateful for James discretion, but wondered how Julian would react to a blank report. He simply didn't strike me as the kind of man who would give up and walk away. I still remember the things Ethan used to say about him, how similar they were. I remember how Julian had said I was his before falling asleep in my arms.

I started to wonder what James would say to him.

As it happened, as I was about to call him to question him more thoroughly, he walked into my room, and said coyly, "I really need to get back, your Julian left 17 messages on my voicemail, and there are 3 more from my boss. I think he's pissed and I'm about to get fired!" he chuckled.

I felt a knot in my stomach and asked, "What are you going to tell him James?"

He looked at me with a determined look in his eyes and replied,

"Look Vi, I'm going to tell him I found you, but you simply have no interest in him. This way, I don't have to tell him anything else, and my job is done. I think if I go the rejection route, it will be easier than explaining to him why I can't tell him more about you."

I pondered his words, thinking.

Would it be enough? Really? Was it even believable? I mean, I still ached, and it had been just a short week ago since I left him. If Julian had gone to the extreme of hiring someone to find me, would he accept I did not want him in my life? Without getting any explanation? Would he hire someone else or let it go? Did I want him to let it go?

I didn't know.

James was watching me intensely, and he said, "Vi, believe me, I'll convince him without betraying you. He will let this go. Trust me."

I finally caved and said, "Can you let him down gently... Please?"

He laughed, "Sure, I'll use my gloves, babe!"

I threw a pillow to his face.