Capri's Fate (8 page)

The meeting adjourned and people milled about congratulating
Capri or backstabbing her depending on whether they'd been on Team Capri or Team Dickhead. Capri smiled, shook hands, made mindless chitchat while waiting for the exact moment to make a corporate-perfect departure.

Having successfully made her escape, she slipped into the Executive Ladies Restroom, leaned on the counter and dropped her purse beside her.

After her third deep inhale and release, Capri pushed off the counter and danced around the facility. "I got the job. I got the job. Look at me. I'm da man. Who da man? Me. Me!" She flapped her elbows and bobbed up and down. Then she spun and shook her butt like a belly dancer. Stepping side to side, she snapped her fingers and laughed until tears rolled down her cheeks. She turned and faced the wall-sized mirror. "Who got the job? I did. And you're damn right you're giving it to me. I earned it. Chief of Operations at thirty-two. Going to run this place by forty. Forty?" She shivered. "Gotta text Kat." She pulled her cellphone from her purse.

Got promotion. Need to parteeeeeee. Dinner. You choose. Don't care when or how much. Suggest
Paris
.

Reaching in her purse, she pulled out a small brush and straightened her hair to a less crazy lady appearance. She opened a tube of Dior Rouge lipstick and swiped the color across her lips. Her cellphone chimed.

Paris? As in France? Can't wait that long for dinner. Congrats on promotion. Xavier's or By the Park? I'll see what I can get.

Feeling calmer,
Capri searched for her Chanel No.5 and spritzed her neck. She loved the smell of Chanel. It was her professional perfume. When she went to work or to a meeting that was the fragrance that enveloped her. It left a positive and business-like impression and besides, on her, it smelled fantastic.

She picked her cellphone off the counter and dropped it in her purse. It chimed. Pulling it back out, she read the text –
By the Park!!! I got us reservations at By the Park. Mind you—you have to pretend to be my boss's wife.

Capri
shrugged.
I can pretend to be a rich dentist's wife.

Another message flashed.
7:30. In case you wanted to know when. Hugs.

She lowered her hand and let the cell phone slip to the edge of her fingers. Closing them, she caught the phone and turned it over to check a message. Who had sent her the text moments after she received the promotion? Cynthia couldn't have known whom Felkins selected. The decision was made on the spot and rather abruptly at that. She clicked on the message and checked to see who sent it but there was only 000 000 000.
Strange.
Capri dropped the phone into her purse, held herself tall and strutted out of the restroom.

~ * * ~

Three days later, with her temper about to snap, Capri stood in airport security, passport and boarding pass in hand.
The entire country has to go on heightened alert the day I need to fly out of here?
She glanced about. Through the distant windows, it still poured rain as it had for the past few days.

Had it only been three days? After recovering from a Sauvignon Blanc induced hangover from her celebration dinner with Kat, she reported to her new
, corner with windows office. She settled herself in and logged on to her computer to discover plane reservations and a meeting date in Flores, Indonesia. With a day to prepare and pack, she hadn't had the chance to call Kat and tell her she was leaving. At least she didn't have a cat or a gold fish to worry about.

The line
moved forward the distance of one person. Capri shifted her weight to rest on her left hip and glared at the back of the head of woman in front of her.
I could walk to Indonesia faster. Okay, at least to L.A. That whole ocean thing is a problem.
Her stomach churned.
Don't think about ocean. Water. Waves. Seasick.
She closed her eyes to calm the nausea that built in her stomach and threatened to unleash itself on the nearest annoying person. Especially, if there was a screaming child nearby.
You're flying on a plane. A big, safe plane.

The rumble of thunder rolled through the noisy airport.

Okay, you're going on a big, safe airplane that has to fly through a storm.
A shiver slithered through her, threatening to inspire her nausea to boil up and spill forth. She glanced down.
Not on these shoes. The price I paid for them
. She inhaled a deep cleansing yoga trained breath and released it slowly. Looking forward at the people in the security line, all sense of calmness that filled Capri evaporated.
Move!

Sh
uffling forward at the pace of a sloth, Capri cleared security, grabbed a salad at a deli and sat in the lounge at gate seventy-three. Inhaling her overpriced, under flavored meal, she sent a quick text to Kat letting her know she wouldn't be at yoga for a week or so. She'd be away on business. She'd send details later. And yes, she'd bring her a souvenir.

Intrigued with her destination point,
she did an Internet search on Indonesia and Flores. Finished, she shut off her phone and pulled the Quarterly Report from her briefcase. Without completely breaking her focus, Capri rose and followed the other first class passengers when their boarding call was announced. She stowed her purse and briefcase, clicked her seatbelt, accepted a glass of champagne and settled down to continue reading.

The five-hour flight was non-descript. Plane went up, flew across the country and landed at LAX.
Capri exited the aircraft and walked to the next departure lounge. Having never been to California before, she peered out the first window she saw.
Hey. I thought the line in the song was 'it never rains in southern California'.

As she sat on a lounge chair and stared at the rivers of rain streaming down the windows, she crossed her arms and frowned.
Hells bells. Raining in New York. Raining harder here in California. What's it doing in Indonesia? A cyclone?

Ch
apter Nine

The sensation of falling stopped. Thall opened his eyes and glanced around.
Hmm. Never been in one of these before. Airplane hangar, I think.

The sonic boom of a thunderclap startled him. He dropped whatever was in his hand. It landed on his foot.

"Ow." He looked at the long, metal tool resting beside his shoe.
I felt that? I shouldn't have.
Thall nudged the tool with his shoe, moved it then raised his eyebrows.
This is weird
. Placing his hand on the small plane that he stood beside, he slid his fingers across the cool metal. He tapped the tip of his finger on the metal and listened to the sound it made.

A flash of light drew his attention to the open hangar doors and the storm that raged beyond them. He walked closer and stood just inside the building, protected by the roof, but able to smell the wet coolness of the rain and hear the bass deep rolls of thunder as they rumbled across the sky. He closed his eyes. "Lachesis. Mother. What have you done?"

Her voice filled his mind. "For the moment, you are human. You have all the memories you will need. Of course, if you run into a problem, ask."

"You didn't slip me in to someone else's body, did you?" He glanced at his hands expecting to see decay and rot. But was pleased to see tanned flesh splotched with grease.

"No, Thall. It is your body, but I changed your look. Since she is angry with you, this will give you a chance to know her, before you reveal yourself. Your eyes will remain one color. I believe humans call it dark chocolate. Having never done this before, I do not know if something will cause you to revert to your true self."

"Do I still have my domain to respond to?"

"Yes. Now enjoy your time."

Her voice disappeared leaving him to his own thoughts. With one last look at the storm, Thall returned to the airplane, bent over and picked up the tool he'd dropped. He held it in his left hand. "Oh, you're a screwdriver." A picture flashed in his mind. "Okay, you screw with it. Makes sense." He glanced up at the plane's engine. The cover was open. He climbed the ladder and peered inside. "So hoping I'm not expected to fix this."

Curious about the mechanics of the machine and not paying attention to the physics of a ladder, Thall lost his balance and grabbed the side of the engine, dropping the screwdriver. After steadying himself, he climbed down and bent over to pick up the tool.

"Excuse me?"

"What?" He lifted his head and smacked it on the tip of the propeller. "Ow. Shit." Walking toward the voice, he rubbed the sore spot. "I don't think I like pain."

"Not many of us do."

Thall stopped in front of a tall woman who was busy shaking the rain off her coat and umbrella. "Do what?" He checked his hand for blood.

"Like pain. Not many people like pain. Although I understand some love it and in some instances it can be very erotic, but that's not why I'm here." The woman stood upright and stuck out her hand. "Capricious Gray."

"That's nice." He held up his greasy hands. Capri dropped hers and smiled. With the loose ends of her hair blowing about in the breeze from the doorway and the wrinkles in her clothing, Thall noted Capri was the most beautiful jet-lagged woman he'd ever seen.

Capri
glanced about the large hangar. A gleaming white jet was parked off to the left, and where the mechanic had been working was a plane with propellers and a blue and red swirl along the length of it. "This is T. Hall Charterways?"

Thall nodded and wiped his hands on his overalls. He reached for
Capri's luggage, but she stopped him with a smile. With a click, she extended the handles and led the luggage deeper into the hangar as if she were leading her champion Pekinese.

Stopping near the jet, she released the luggage and dug her tablet out of her flight bag. "I have a flight reservation for—"

"Flight? Lady, you looked outside? It's a freakin' cyclone." He scratched the back of his neck. "You know what a cyclone is?"

Still holding the tablet,
Capri crossed her arms and glared. "Me. When I'm angry."

A grin slid across his face. "Ooh, lady got attitude when she's pissed."

Capri sighed and lifted her left hand to her forehead to rub between her eyes. "No, actually the lady has attitude when she's really tired. It was a long flight from LA. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper. It's been a long day."

Thall dipped his head. "Apology accepted." He pointed to the storm still thundering away outside the hanger doors. "But you still can't fly."

She sighed and shifted her weight. "Is the pilot around? I'd like to speak with him."

"He's gonna say the same thing. Can't fly in that storm?"

"What? Is he afraid of getting his plane all wet?"

"No, he doesn't like smashing it into the side of a volcano or something."

"I'll double his fee."

"And cover the insurance for the plane?"

Capri nodded and rubbed between her eyes.

He shrugged. "I'll talk to the pilot and see what I can do. Would you like a coffee while you wait?"

Still rubbing her forehead, she nodded.

"Cream. No sugar."

She dropped her hand and raised her gaze to his.

Thall lifted his hands. "You look like the cream, no sugar type. There's a seat over there by the desk." He pointed to a small table and chair near the nose of the jet. "Sorry. No VIP lounge here."

He crossed the hangar to a small office, opened the door and peered inside.
Lachesis. I know how to use a coffee maker, but this is just a jar of coffee and a kettle. Now what?

A
YouTube video flashed through his mind.

Thank you
. He turned the tap on and filled the kettle. After plugging it in, he leaned back on the counter and waited.
How can a woman be so beautiful that even when she's jet-lagged, tired and angry, I still want to hold her and experience her? I want to inhale the scent of her being. Feel the warmth of her arms. And lips. To be kissed by a woman. Being human might have some advantages after all.

He checked three coffee mugs before he found a clean one, sprinkled dark brown crystals into
it and poured boiling water to the rim. When he picked up the mug, he spilled some on to his hand. He hissed in pain.
I think I might like being human, but this whole pain thing sucks.

With the mug, a spoon and the small milk from the refrigerator, he crossed back to
Capri and placed them on the table next to her. "Here's a magazine. From a couple of years ago. Sorry. We don't have a lot of guests."

She poured the milk and stirred her coffee then added a bit more. "Strong." She took a sip and sputtered. "Really strong. Thank you."
Capri handed the milk container to him.

As he wrapped his fingers around the container, he brushed the tops of hers. Her skin felt warm and soft. The sweet fragrance of her perfume lingered. He'd seen her spray it on in the mornings before she left for work. It was in the little bottle on her dresser with a number five on the side. The fragrance reminded him of happiness. It made him feel full of joy. He didn't want to leave. He just needed to stand beside her and inhale that incredible aroma.