The Glimpsing

by James L. Black

  “We do a bit of business together. A number of my clients love his models. I suppose everyone does. He can spot talent like an eagle spots mice. If not for Jack, I’d be spending most of my time taking pictures of flowers and old barns. So, how have you been?”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  “Is that what you call it? Just… good?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He leaned back. “Well, let see. Seven movies, two television series, critical acclaim, not to mention an Oscar nomination. I thought you should have won. All in the short space of just six years. I’d say that’s a little more than good.”

  Gabrielle tilted her head. “Keeping tabs on me, are you?”

  Felix chuckled. “I wouldn’t call it keeping tabs.”

  “Then what would you call it?”

  Felix eyed her. “Being your biggest fan.” He raised a hand and motioned for the waiter. The waiter approached, took Felix’s order, a Margarita, and then departed.

  Gabrielle said. “And what of yourself. If I’m not mistaken, I’ve seen your pictures in VOGUE, Mademoiselle, St. Claire and scores of other magazines. And isn’t it you that’s been selected to lead the Sports Illustrated swimsuit shoot this year?”

  Felix narrowed his eyes and stroked his chin. He wagged a finger at her playfully. “You know, back in the States they call that kind of interest stalking. Is that what you’re doing?”

  Gabrielle giggled. “Nooooo.”

  “Then what would you call it?”

  She took her wine in hand and before taking a sip, playfully chimed: “That’s keeping tabs.”

  Felix nodded a touché.

  Gabrielle glanced at his ring finger. “You never married?”

  “No. Does that surprise you?”

  “Yes, I guess it does.”

  “Why?”

  “You always struck me as the marrying type. You know, a happily ever after kind of guy.”

  Felix registered some perplexity, as if her insight surprised him. “That’s very observant. It pains me to be so honest, but there isn’t anything I’d like to do more than to get married.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  “To live happily ever after, there has to be a happily ever after girl. And they aren’t around every corner, especially these days.” He looked at her suggestively. “They’re a rarity. Usually, you only cross paths with them once in a lifetime.”

  “I see,” Gabrielle said, shyly blinking away from his gaze.

  The waiter returned with Felix’s drink and placed it before him. “Will there be anything else, Mr. Nadal?”

  “No. Thank you,” Felix said.

  The waiter departed once more.

  “What about you?” Felix asked, “No significant other?”

  Jack entered her mind, but she slowly shook her head. “No.”

  Felix paused, leaned his head slightly to one side, then said: “You wouldn’t be lying to me, would you?”

  “Lying to you? Why would I do that?”

  Felix chuckled mildly. “I’m sorry. I’m being very rude. It’s just that… you’ll probably think this silly, but…” He trailed off.

  “But what?”

  He smiled again. “I can always tell when a woman is in love.”

  Gabrielle’s lips parted in surprise. “What?”

  Felix seemed to take delight in her reaction. He lifted his drink to his lips, sipped, swallowed. “I know it sounds crazy, but I assure you, I can tell.”

  This discomforted Gabrielle. “You’re serious?”

  Felix gave a polite nod.

  “And how… how can you tell?”

  Felix leaned forward, resting his arms against the table’s edge. “Women who are in love exude a very peculiar beauty. They look different. Doesn’t matter if they’re happy, sad. It’s just there.” He paused, measuring her face. “It’s all over you, Gabrielle.”

  Gabrielle looked at him blankly, feeling strangely unveiled. Finally, she cleared her throat, forced out a grin, and lied weakly: “Well, this time you’re wrong.”

  “I hope so,” Felix replied.

  That comment left Gabrielle even more off balance than his seemingly clairvoyant suspicion that she was in love. She shifted in her chair.

  Noticing her unease, Felix said: “I apologize… again. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just a little game I play. Don’t take it seriously. Let’s talk about something else.”

  Gabrielle offered a wincing smile.

  “You said you’ve been under stress?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s the cause? Both the acting and the modeling taking its toll?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I’m not scheduled to start my next film for three months. What’s happening is… well, hard to explain.”

  “You want to tell me about it?”

  “No. Not really.” Felix was about to speak, but Gabrielle interrupted. “But I probably should. Maybe it will help.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “I, um… this is going to sound ridiculous.”

  “Well, I’ve already said something ridiculous tonight. I could use the company.”

  Gabrielle smiled broadly. She then looked down and sighed. “It’s just that I feel like something is wrong, like something very bad is about to happen.”

  Felix suddenly showed concern. “To you?”

  “I can’t tell. There’s this dark feeling that comes over me. It’s overwhelming at times.”

  “Dark feeling?”

  “Yes. It’s almost like a panic attack. It kind of comes and goes. But it never completely fades. It’s always there, like background noise.” She sighed again.

  “When did it start?”

  Gabrielle pursed her lips and slowly shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe a few days ago. I almost feel like I’m being cursed.”

  “Cursed? You mean by God?”

  “No. At least, I don’t think so.” She glanced upward at the man on the hill. “It’s something else. It feels… evil.”

  “Have you done something?”

  “Done something?”

  “To make you feel this way?”

  Gabrielle’s head fell to her lap. She sighed. “Yes. I have.”

  “And what is that?”

  She shook her head, still not looking up. “It’s not important. Whatever is going to happen, it’s probably deserved.”

  “No, it’s not,” Felix said, almost angrily. Gabrielle’s eyes shot up from her lap. “You’re a good girl, Gabrielle. You don’t deserve for anything bad to happen to you.”

  “Felix I—” she began to protest, but he cut her off.

  “I want you to listen to me very closely. Now, I don’t know what you’ve done or to whom you’ve done it to, but I do know this: you are a good person. One bad act, no matter what that is, won’t ever erase that.”

  A smile started on Gabrielle’s face, but it never completed. Again she dropped her head away. Felix reached across, however, and nudged her chin up.

  “I want you to know something else,” he said, meeting her eyes with his own. But then he blinked off and leaned back, measuring, with apparent consternation, what he was about to say next. Finally, he sighed, then spoke. “You don’t know this, Gabrielle, but the reason you’re here in Rio is because of me.”

  “What?”

  “I told Paul Alderman you’d be the best person for his magazine cover. He contacted Jack Parke and… well, here you are.”

  Gabrielle frowned, bewildered. “Why would you do something like that?”

  “Because I thought you were the most beautiful and fastest rising talent out there. But that wasn’t the only reason. I wanted to see you again. I had to tell you something.”

  Gabrielle could feel her heart quickening, for what reason she wasn’t exactly sure. “What is it, Felix?”

  “I wanted to tell you… that I made a mistake.”

  “A mistake?”

  “Yes. I never should have l
et you out of my life. I shouldn’t have let our ambitions, my ambitions, stand in the way of what we had together.”

  Gabrielle was dumbfounded.

  “I should have left London myself, moved to the States, sacrificed it all, to be with you.”

  “I disagree. I think you were right. If we would have tried to make it work, neither one of us would have fulfilled our dreams.”

  Felix paused, gazing at her softly. “But what good is having a dream if I don’t have you to share it with?”

  Gabrielle blinked at him, both confused and concerned. “That’s what you wanted to tell me? That’s why you brought me here?”

  “No. That’s not why I brought you here.”

  “Then why?”

  For the first time, Felix’s air of confidence seemed to break apart and separate, revealing the vulnerable man inside. “I brought you here… because I’m in love with you, Gabrielle. Still in love with you. I’ve never stopped.”

  Gabrielle swallowed, looking on in stunned amazement. Chills of emotion streamed over her back.

  Felix continued, “I feel like this night holds special significance, Gabrielle. Normally, I’m in bed pretty early, but tonight I couldn’t sleep. I felt like I should leave and take a walk, and so that’s what I did. Six blocks from my hotel I decided to turn into this place… and that’s when I saw you. I was in disbelief. It’s very late and this is a big city. What are the chances? But there you were: a miracle in my eyes. It’s a sign, Gabrielle. We were brought here tonight for a reason.”

  “But for what reason?” Gabrielle asked breathlessly.

  “I’m not sure. Maybe it’s happening so I can help you with whatever has been tormenting you. Maybe it’s much more than that. I can only hope so. But whatever it is, none of this is an accident.”

  Felix then did something very peculiar. He extended his hand onto the table, and opened it in her direction.

  Gabrielle gazed it anxiously, realizing it held some special significance but was uncertain what that something was. “What are you asking, Felix?”

  “I’m asking you to think about what we once had, how happy we were in each other’s arms, how whole we felt. I’m asking you if you’d trade that feeling for anything in this world, past or present. And if you wouldn’t, then I’m asking you to take my hand and give us a second chance.”

  Gabrielle sat there stunned, suddenly aware of the sound of her own breathing. The power of the moment was paralyzing. She felt as if the simple decision to take Felix’s hand or leave it lying there on the table represented some great crossroad in her life. Was he really a godsend, she wondered? Had God actually answered a prayer that she had been too ashamed to even utter? Was he actually the way out of a situation that had grown too much for her to bear? She could not help but cast her eyes back to the man on the hill, to the outstretched form of the Christ on Corcodova Hill. Was this all His doing?

  Slowly, Gabrielle raised her right hand and slid it along the table. She touched Felix’s fingers, and then delicately laid her hand in his, grasping it lightly.

  Felix seemed to settle in relief. A smile started to shine through on his face.

  What he was offering was something she simply could not resist. For too long she’d been trapped between Jack and Portia. For too long she’d sensed the guilt in her bosom, guilt that had now evolved into a monster, into a dark premonition that insisted some great evil lie ahead. Now there was Felix, a godsend, a way of escape. And unlike Jack, he came free of charge: without guilt, without the burden of a bad conscience, without the betrayal of her best friend. With a simple gesture, a mere outstretched hand, he was offering the blindingly bright prospect of unsullied happiness. She’d have to be a fool not to take it.

  But a fool was exactly what Gabrielle was going to be.

  Felix had intended to bring her hand up and to kiss it, but she slowly eased it away. She watched thoroughly pained as his face contracted with surprise. She couldn’t go through with it, she suddenly realized, because she was no longer in love with Felix. She was in love with Jack. And she couldn’t give him up, even with the guilt, even with the certainty that their affair would someday devastate Portia. Love simply would not let her leave him.

  Felix stared at his empty palm for some time. Finally, he closed his hand and pulled it away. He then looked up at her somberly. “I knew you were lying. You are in love, aren’t you?”

  Gabrielle’s mouth parted, but the words got lost.

  Felix grinned miserably, stood, turned, and slowly walked away. When he’d made it to the door, Gabrielle called to him. “Felix.”

  He stopped, but did not turn.

  “I’m not a good girl,” she said tearfully.

  Felix turned his head, as if intending to look over his shoulder, but then turned back. He then pushed the door open, and departed the restaurant.

  Gabrielle watched him go, then laid her head to the table, and wept bitterly.

  CHAPTER 16 – SHE NEEDS TO KNOW

  Jack Parke was lying on his stomach, his face smashed suffocatingly into a pillow, his arms and legs jig sawing out from his body like the appendages of a malformed doll. Rolling onto his back, he opened his eyes and was immediately stung by the golden brilliance of a sunlit morn. He brought his hands up and covered his face, then began massaging it with hands that felt shockingly feeble. It was as mushy and malleable as putty. Even without benefit of a mirror, he could feel the dark circles cupping his eyes.

  He turned his head and peered at the clock. 7:34am. He had been asleep for over thirteen hours, and had gone more than two hours beyond the time his body naturally awoke him. And yet he felt like he hadn’t slept a wink.

  He turned his head toward the gallery and peered at the painting. Just seconds ago, or so it seemed, he’d been standing before it, asking Rose about the man glaring at him so hotly from inside. Rose had responded with a quip about the man not liking him, and then everything had gone black. Now the man’s face had returned to its normal, absent gaze, and Rose, no longer lying on his bed, was now back inside the painting as if she’d never left. All of this suggested that last night’s encounter with her had been nothing more than a dream. But as impossible as that seemed, Jack had little doubt that wasn’t true. Last night had been far from a fiction. Somehow, inexplicably, it had been real.

  What that meant was that the painting, apparently during sleep, really was making him glimpse, really was giving him the ability to not only see, but physically interact with an invisible world, just as Janice had suggested. But where Janice saw it as evil, in reality it was good. For through it, Portia had found a way to give herself to him. And if that didn’t make the painting the greatest gift he’d ever received, then he wasn’t sure what did.

  He supposed he should now regret having begun an affair with Gabrielle. Here Portia was offering him the proverbial olive branch, offering Rose as a vicarious substitute for herself, while he was sleeping with her best friend out of vengeance. He supposed that he should accept Portia’s gift as a truce, as a way of calling it even, burying the hatchet as they say. Yes, he supposed that was exactly what he should do. But he wasn’t going to do that at all. Portia still deserved to be punished for what she’d put him through. He wasn’t just going to forget it, couldn’t just forget it. Never before had a woman treated him with such disdain: holding him to those ridiculous kissing sessions, leading him on and then pulling away, teasing him to the point that she’d made herself an inescapable obsession of his mind. Never before had a woman provoked him to the point of forcing erotic dreams; never had one made him burn like some desperate fool. She had crossed the wrong man. The gift, as wonderful as it was, was too little too late. She was still going to pay.

  Lying there, Jack suddenly had the sweeping, almost dizzying realization that the time had come. He needed to force Gabrielle to tell Portia about their affair, and finally get the revenge he had delayed for almost two months. Yes, he needed to make that happen and needed to do it soon, because he c
ouldn’t wait for the chance to sit back and watch the devastation ensue.

  Of course, doing so would spell the end of his relationship with Gabrielle, and that was truly unfortunate, for he had enjoyed her like no other woman before. There had been something so different about her, something so alluring that under different circumstances, he might actually consider—

  It didn’t matter. There was no use wasting time on such thoughts. It was now time for a change. Time to bury those strange feelings, and start treating Gabrielle like what she was, what she’d always been: an instrument of revenge. A tool to be used, and then discarded.

  He sat up agonizingly, every muscle in his body feeling like it was made of lead. He dropped his feet to the floor, and then dragged himself over to the painting. Gazing at Rose, he felt a familiar sensuality awaken in him. He was taken back to the dream, to Portia’s acts within the mirror, and the feel of her body gliding over his own in the dark room. And he knew the next time he fell asleep, the next time he saw Rose, she’d become Portia and make that dream come true.

  The phone rang, jolting him slightly. He turned, made his way to the end table, and picked it up. “Yes,” he said, answering with a voice so hoarse that he barely recognized it.

  “Jack?” Gabrielle asked. “Jack is that you?”

  Speak of the devil, Jack thought to himself. “Yes, it’s me.”

  “Where have you been?” she scolded. “I’ve been trying to reach you all night.”

  “Why were you trying to reach me?”

  “You told me to call you last night, after I landed.”

  “Landed? Where are you?”

  “I'm in Rio,” Gabrielle said, sounding perturbed.

  “Rio?”

  “Yes, Rio. What’s wrong with you?”

  Jack closed his eyes and massaged his temple with his hand, trying to force back the mental haze. Only vaguely did he recall the airport and placing Gabrielle on his Gulfstream. “Nothing. Just a little tired I guess.”

  “I worried about you all night. I thought you might be sleepwalking again. You weren’t, were you?”

  Jack glanced over his shoulder at Rose. “No,” he said, then thought to himself: Not exactly.