by Kylie Parker
Gazing up into his eyes, Olivia threaded her arm around his upper back, as James’ hand reached her shoulder.
“So strong,” her low voice broke through the silence; “my feelings for you.”
“So are mine, for you,” he whispered with a gentle nod. “Don’t speak; just let me look at you; let me look into you.”
A smile of embarrassment formed on Olivia’s face. She obliged. James focused on her blissful face and did not open his mouth, either. He chose to savor the moment, studying every line on her face, the shape of her eyes, her nose and her lips. Olivia had given him a reason to live: not just simply exist. She was quickly turning into more than just a girlfriend. In truth, the young barista was becoming someone he could believe in. By now, it didn’t matter to him that people had let him down in the past. All he desired was to be with Olivia; his newfound inspiration that had rocked his world, only a few days ago.
“I could look at you for hours, my Olivia. Sometimes, I wonder if you’re real, and not just a figment of my imagination. But you can’t touch a dream, you can’t hear it, you can’t feel its power growing over you. And it sure can’t look at you, the way you’re staring into my soul right now…”
22
James was having such a fantastic time with Olivia that he completely forgot to mention to her anything about the hack in Platinum Media Records, or the fact that he would be working with Michelle Adams. Later that night, they went out for dinner, in high spirits and teasing each other. There was still one thing that he had not done with her in public, which James had been thinking about for days: he wanted to take her dancing. Their little dance in his cabin had been swirling in his mind. He did not mean to repeat it; after all, it would be extremely difficult, but he did want to get out of her apartment and go somewhere other than “Jodie’s” bar for a change. She did not say ‘no’ to him. The young couple visited bar after bar that night: dancing to love songs; getting lost in each other’s eyes.
But, even if he did recall the hack in question, he would not reveal it to her, not until he found a clue as to who had gone to such lengths in order to entrap him. A revelation like that could lead them to speculate further, thereby ruining their best night together. Olivia was already too emotional, and a possible, fruitless discussion about the man or woman who wanted to see him behind bars or the provocative blonde would definitely add to her distress.
The following morning, he was getting ready to attend his rehearsal with Michelle, when his cell phone rang. It was Rick.
“Hello?”
“James, we really need to talk!” The urgency in Rick’s voice puzzled him. “I have news about the hack. You’re not going to believe this.”
“Who is it: Atlas?” James spoke too fast.
“We can’t do this over the phone. There’s a small room in the parking lot in my building. Meet me there tonight, 8:30pm. Come alone. Don’t tell anyone about this. Another thing, don’t go to that rehearsal.”
“Why?”
“Please do as I say. Please, don’t ask questions.” Rick requested. “I’ll tell you more when you get there.”
James had barely hung up, when his phone buzzed with an incoming message from Michelle.
“Sorry, can’t make it today. Got a terrible hangover. Tomorrow morning, same time. Text me back if you can’t make it.”
“Ok, this is weird.” James said to himself. “Information about the hacker is one thing. Why would Rick want me to cancel the rehearsal? What does Adams have to do with any of this? And why can’t I talk about it with anyone? I can’t wait to hear what you have to say, Rick.”
He drove Olivia to work, wondering if he should tell her about Rick’s phone call. Yet, he did no such thing. He gave her a quick kiss and drove off in a hurry, feeling more anxious by the second.
The room that Rick had been referring to was located in the upper left corner of the spacious parking lot. Slivers of gold light were peeking through the cracks of the door. Despite the fact that James arrived there almost twenty minutes early, he found Rick waiting for him. There was a light bulb hanging in the middle of the ceiling and a small table against the far wall. Other than that, the room was completely empty.
“Hi, Rick.” James spoke, his voice firm as he sauntered towards him. “What’s the big emergency?”
“Hey, man. I don’t know where to start.” Rick’s tone was unusually stiff. “I’m pretty sure I’ll screw this up somewhere along the way, so, I’ll leave this to the expert. Pete, we’re ready when you are.”
“Who’s Pete?” James inquired. Rick cast an attentive glance at the open door, as the sound of short, quick footsteps echoed in the parking lot. Within seconds, a short, scrawny young man walked into the room, with a closed laptop in his left hand.
“James, this is my nephew, Peter Crawford. Pete, this is my good friend, James Farrell.” Rick introduced them.
“It’s nice to meet you, sir.” Pete said, with a broad smile on his face, as he offered his hand.
“Hey, kid.” James shook his hand. “What’s with the laptop?”
“Pete is a hacker,” Rick informed James, as his nephew eased the device down onto the table, “and a damn good one.”
“Thanks, uncle.” Pete murmured, pressing the “on” button on his laptop. “Whoever hacked into the company’s database was very good. He knew how to cover his tracks. Back tracking his IP address didn’t work.”
“Ok, this is pretty lame.” Rick admitted, turning his head to the left to face James. “But, I asked Pete if he could hack into Atlas’ database, you know, for the hell of it.”
“I did it.” Pete grinned, typing something on his laptop. “If any of their computers were used to hack into your company’s database, it would have left a trail. I found none. But…” He pressed the “enter” button, one last time. “I was able to retrieve their financial records. They’re very thorough, I must say.”
“Where are you going with this?” James grumbled.
“Show him.” Rick spoke in a low, barely audible voice, dropping his gaze from his nephew’s. Pete picked up his laptop from the table and rotated it towards James. There was a bank statement copy on the screen. One transaction stood out: a check to “Ms. Olivia Ralston” for $50,000. James’ heart sank. It seemed that the woman he in whom he had dared to believe, had betrayed him in the worst possible way. In a split second, his entire world had come crushing down. His battered heart had taken yet another, devastating blow, perhaps the hardest of his life. A sigh of despair left his lips, as he dropped his head into his hands.
“Pete, play the video. James, you may want to check the date on it. I’m really sorry, man.” Rick patted him on the back. Pete did as told, before a video popped up on the screen. Olivia was in an office, talking to an aging man in a suit. A few seconds into it, he pulled out his checkbook and wrote the check in question. The date stamp on the video was Wednesday, January 11th, 2017, two days before her accident.
“Zoom in on it.” Rick requested. The video was paused and Pete zoomed in on the check, as the man handed it over to Olivia. The blue globe logo on the upper right corner confirmed his worst fears. She had been bribed by “Atlas”.
“They paid her to act like she was interested in you. They found your cabin, got your prints. The rest was easy.” Rick continued, speaking in sighs. “At least that’s what I think.”
“It can’t be…” James’ voice came out at a whisper, as he ran both hands through his hair.
“The reason why I didn’t want you to go to that rehearsal is that the Adams chick screwed up big time last night.” Rick explained. “She went to this fundraiser, got drunk and threw a glass of wine in a waiter’s face. Peterson himself called it off for now. He’s really mad at her.”
“So what: like I even give a crap.” James muttered, dropping his arms.
“I’m sorry, brother.” Rick slightly raised his tone, with a guilty look painted all over his face. “I thought she was decent. I guess I was wrong about h
er. Can I ask you a favor?”
“Go ahead.” James nodded, as tears rose in his eyes.
“Please, don’t go back to that bar. Things could get really ugly. I don’t know what you’re going to do with her, but, whatever it is, stay away from that place.” Rick’s suggestion made perfect sense. James was hurting too much to think clearly; he could take out his frustration on anything or anyone.
“I wasn’t going to.” He shook his head sideways. “Thanks a lot for this. You know where to find me.”
Distraught and drowning in sorrow, James did not answer Olivia’s phone calls; he even switched off his cell phone. Staying true to his word, he did not stop by the bar, either. His solitary refuge beckoned, offering to ease his pain. Once again, James Farrell was leaving behind New York City, seeking comfort in the wilderness, bearing the scars of yet another failed romance…
“Go to ‘Jodie’s’? For what, Rick? Argue with the woman who betrayed me: the fake? Say ‘goodbye’ to her? Why? Does she even deserve that? I don’t think so. All I can think of is going back to my cabin. It’s far from people, their treacherous minds, and their evil hearts. Far from everyone who’s been letting me down all my life. Another relationship, another crack in my heart: thank you, Olivia. Thank you for showing me, again, what people are capable of: fake words; fake actions; lies; deceit…”
23
James’ expectations, of finding peace in his cabin, were proven hopelessly wrong. As soon as he opened his front door, every memory he had with Olivia flashed through his mind: the moment he found her lying on the snow; the night they played music together; her reaction to his gift; her sweet, girly laughter; her warm, tender kiss… Overwhelmed with emotion, he lit a candle and pulled his notebook out of his backpack; desperate to do what had made him famous over the years: pour his heart out on a piece of paper.
Was it a dream – Was it a lie
An illusion of a life so far away
A whisper of fate – A breathless sigh
Or a little spark in my lightless day
Frozen inside, my love, you found me
Broken heart, in a world of pain
A shadow of the man I used to be
A shattered wolf, howling in the rain
Your eyes, like a river they flowed
Love so strong in my aching soul
Blinded by greed, this love you sold
Bound by lust – acting a role
Lying on the snow, my heart is bleeding
Scent of betrayal lingers in the air
Pale moon through the trees is peeking
This lonely night is my cross to bear
James’ hand shook, as he recalled the bribery video. He could not write anything else. His pen fell off the table and rolled across the floor. He leaned against the couch, as tears spilled from his eyes. For a moment, he wondered if he had made the right decision. After all, Olivia had been wonderful to him; she had not seemed to be faking her emotions. On the contrary, everything she did appeared to look and feel very real. But still, the evidence against her was overwhelming. Had James not seen that video, he would not have believed it. He was not that familiar with computers, but he knew very well that computer data could be manipulated. It was the date on the video that convinced him.
Despite his profound fatigue, he could not sleep. Olivia’s betrayal haunted his mind, reminding him of what Diana did to him, a long time ago. James spent hours trying to fathom why she would do that to him, but, every time, he reached the same conclusion: ruled by greed, she was willing to help his rivals frame him. It didn’t matter to him that she had not accepted his expensive gift. For him, this was just part of the character she had been enacting the whole time.
Darkness was starting to fade into daylight, when he turned his cell phone back on. The 28 missed calls and the 16 incoming messages put a bitter smile on his face.
“Acting, acting and more acting; you should go to Hollywood, Olivia. You’re wasting your talent.”
James tossed it on the couch and went outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Panther Mountain Peak breaking through the white mist. For the first time in a while, he was not seeking inspiration. Even the image of the majestic sunrise paled in comparison to his heartache. James believed that watching it would soothe him. After only a few minutes, he realized that his belief had been correct.
“My God, look at that. The sky is the canvas and Mother Nature is the brush. It’s so beautiful…”
“I take it you’ve heard.” A familiar, female voice drew his attention. It was Olivia. Her tone was calm and steady. “That’s why you’re here. That’s why you won’t pick up your phone. Am I right?”
James did not dignify her question with an answer. He turned to face her and started clapping his hands, looking down into her eyes, as adrenaline rushed through his veins.
“Excellent performance,” his baritone was reeking with sarcasm. “You deserve an academy award.”
“I deserve that,” Olivia said, dropping her gaze from his intense stare. “I lied to you. I let you down.”
“You lied to me?” He yelled, his stentorian voice roaring: in rage; in pain; echoing in the wilderness. “I almost went to jail because of you!”
“I didn’t know…” She spoke in a broken voice, shaking her head.
“What, Olivia?” He wondered, leaning over her, his chest rising up and down. “You didn’t know what?”
“What I was getting myself into,” She whispered, as her gaze jerked up to meet his eyes. “Please, hear me out.”
“Whatever,” James gave an exasperated gasp.
“First of all, you’re right. I am an actress: an unemployed one.” Olivia admitted, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear. “About two weeks ago, I was auditioning for a play on Broadway. I played the piano, sang, did it all. The director liked me; he said I should speak to the producer. I met him the next morning. They weren’t impressed by my acting; they had other plans for me. The producer said his wife had given birth to two sons, back in 1988, but the doctors were only able to save one. He’d been suspecting foul play; they never showed him the body of his dead child. He thought he’d found him, but he needed his DNA. Anything would do: A hair, saliva, semen, blood, fingerprint… He sent me here to…” Her voice broke; she bit her lower lip, in a hopeless attempt to hold back the tears. Olivia closed her eyes, squeezing two tears out of them. “He sent me here to seduce you. I’d pretend to be some lost hiker, in need of shelter. But then, I had this accident. I had to settle for the fingerprint. Obviously, I couldn’t get it while lying on the couch. That’s why I insisted on…”
“… playing the piano,” he finished her sentence, her confession sending shockwaves down his spine. “My fingerprints are all over it.”
“Yeah,” she sniffled, as her tears rolled off her cheeks. “I’m so sorry, James. I really needed that money.”
“You know what drew me to you?” He asked in a voice thick with emotion, as a powerful gust of wind blew through his hair.
“What’s that?”
“Your brashness,” James replied, as tears welled up in his eyes. “You’ve just admitted it was false, too.”
“James, pl…”
“Goodbye, Olivia.” He interrupted, putting his hand over her mouth, as the powerful wind whipped her hair against her face. “Go home. It’s over.”
James turned his back on her and walked back to his cabin with a heavy heart, feeling his own tears flowing down his cheeks, as her painful screams ripped through the air. Part of him was dying to go back to her, take her in his embrace and tell her everything was fine between them. Nevertheless, he would do no such thing. Her fake brashness hurt him even more than the fact that she had agreed to sleep with a total stranger for a large sum of money. Olivia Ralston was not the honest and true woman he had fallen in love with, but a well-paid actress who had shattered his heart into a million pieces.
“Go back to the city, Olivia. Go back to the place where all fake people belong.
Leave me alone. I don’t need this falsehood. I’ve survived all this time without it; I’m sure I’ll be fine now, too. I’m such a dreamer… I thought I’d find love again. Wake up, James. True women only exist in fairytales…”
24
The wonderful, familiar sensation of fine wood on his fingertips made James’ body tingle, as he took his acoustic guitar in his arms. He hadn’t practiced in almost a week and had missed it. But, he couldn’t help but remember his last practice session. It was on the night he met Olivia.
“Forget about her, James. She was an illusion: nothing more.”
Gazing out to the horizon, he started playing, “Always Somewhere”, an old, famous ballad by the Scorpions. There was a special melancholy in that soft tune. The slow, melodic guitar introduction, accompanied by Klaus Meine’s majestic voice, had always enthralled him. More than that, every time he played it, James felt like he was being pulled away from his reality, to a place where he could be alone with his thoughts, without having to worry about anything or anyone. Right after the first chorus, he tore his gaze away from the view and looked left. Helen Weir had just parked her blue, pickup truck and was about to get out of it. James did not stop playing. He was enjoying the moment so much that he even hummed the lyrics. He forced his gaze away from the road and looked ahead, down at the forest slope, where he had rescued Olivia.
“That’s where it all began.” He thought to himself, finishing his performance with a downward strum.
“Great tune.” Helen chirped, easing down two, large bags of groceries. “Is it new?”
“No.” James snorted, amused by her ignorance. “It’s old: very old. I wasn’t even born when it was released.”
“Oh.” She gave a gasp of surprise. “My folks and I haven’t seen you in a week. We got a little worried, to be honest.”