The morning sun pierced between the curtains and cut across Emmi’s face. She attempted to hide her face and return to sleep. It was too late. She could sleep no more. The professor took a deep breath and felt a subtle shift beside her. A thin, radiant, natural tan arm slipped from beneath a pile of silky sheets. Freshly manicured fingernails with a modern French almond style and translucent white polish adorned the hand.
She slowly shifted to the edge of the bed without disturbing her bedmate, moved across the thick carpet, collected a robe from the door, and silently exited the room. As she moved down the hallway, she could hear someone in the kitchen preparing food. The room was bright and filled with the smell of eggs. Jacy danced as he made an omelet. Two other omelets were resting on a warmer beside the stove. Emmi approached the young man and plucked out one of his earbuds. “Hey,” she whispered. He removed the other earbud, “Good morning,” he imitated her. “Why are we whispering?” She continued to whisper, “Did I bring someone home last night?” “Well… yeah!” he derided. “You mean, I know her.” “Again, well… yeah! She’s Sarina. Are you OK?” Emmi looked confused, “I don’t know.” “Emmi, you’re worrying me.” “I’m worrying myself.” “Jacy, that smells absolutely wonderful,” Sarina said as she entered the room, hugged Emmi from behind, and kissed her cheek. Emmi’s eyes widened with a hint of fear. “I’m starving,” Sarina said as she moved to collect one of the omelets. “Too bad, I have to eat and run.” She cut into the egg, exposed peppered lamb inside, “My favorite. Thank you, Jacy.” The woman proceeded to devour the dish. After rinsing the plate, she pecked Emmi’s cheek again and darted out of the room. “What just happened?” Emmi asked. “Your girlfriend just ate breakfast and is getting ready for work.” “My girlfriend? How long have I known her?” “About eight or nine months. I think. Now you’re scaring me.” Emmi sat down in the nook and searched her mind. Her roommate served an omelet and sat down across from her. He gave her time to mull over the problem. Sarina came back out wearing a black tunic top and matching leggings with black military-style boots. The scent of warm cotton candy clung to the air around her. She hugged Emmi’s shoulders and said, “I got to go. Thomas is going to kill me if I’m late again.” The woman proceeded out the door, got into a penny colored Pontiac, started it, backed out of the driveway, and drove off. Emmi’s eyes locked on Jacy’s, “Just who in the hell is that woman? And that hair.” “Who knew purple, silver, and white goes so well together? It’s like a geode,” he replied. He looked serious, “OK, her name is Sarina Avilla. I think it’s Portuguese or something.” The young man took a bite of his omelet. “Where does she work?” “Ichabod Recovery Agency in Holladay. She goes after people who skip out on bail.” “You mean a bounty hunter?” “Yeah, except she calls herself a Skip Tracer.” “You said I met her about eight or nine months ago. Where did we meet?” “You met her at one of your favorite dark-sky spots, Kodachrome Basin, I think.” Emmi looked dumbfounded, “You’d think I’d remember someone so… beautiful.” She pushed the edge of a fork through the fluffy folded egg. “Mystery’s shroud remains.”
0 Comments
|
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. Archives
May 2024
Categories |