EXCERPT EAGLES IN FLIGHT
By Ramcy Diek
Chapter
1
A tall handsome man dressed
elegantly in a gray silk suit, white shirt, silver tie, and black leather
oxford shoes, made his way around the Heemstead University library. He seemed
out of place among the college students, the ladies from the senior book club,
and the locals who used the computers, or came in to read the daily newspaper.
Emma watched him from behind her
desk. She’d recognized him immediately and felt safe partly hidden behind her
computer screen and the stacks of returned books that needed to be scanned in.
That was until his eyes roamed around in search of assistance. She pushed her
reading glasses a bit farther up her nose and lowered her head. Her long brown
hair fell halfway across her face. Sinking deeper into her chair, she wished
Sue Stremler were close by. Surely someone as important as him would wish to
speak to the head librarian.
Her chair squeaked its familiar
protest. She held her breath, afraid he’d heard it.
To her relief, he picked up a
newspaper from one of the tables. His mouth curved into a slow smile as he read
the front page. He seemed pleased with whatever had caught his attention.
As if he could feel her stare on
the back of his neck, he dropped the paper onto the table and headed straight
in her direction. Pretending not to notice him, she shrank deeper into her
office chair.
“Miss, do you have information
on the upcoming fundraiser for the library?”
A pair of dark eyes looked down
on her, and an involuntary gasp rose in her throat. Hoping she’d caught it in
time, she forced her focus back to the keyboard of her computer, the letters
blurry, the numbers jumping around.
“A friend of mine, Mr. Jesse
Kimball, is invited to give a speech. I was in the neighborhood and offered to
stop in for more information on his behalf.”
Emma told herself there was no
reason to be nervous. She looked up and smiled. “I could print the flyer for
you if you’d like.”
“Thank you,” he replied, giving
no sign he recognized her.
Emma recalled the mobile home
park in the town of Dunedam, where her father maintained the grounds and
performed necessary repairs to the homes. When she was fifteen, he found a
position as a janitor for an apartment complex in Heemstead, the neighboring
city. The position came with a rent-free spacious two-bedroom apartment. Her
parents celebrated the prospect of a bigger paycheck and fewer expenses, but
she’d been heartbroken to move away and leave her childhood friends behind. The
kids from the park always hung out together. In the sandbox, on the playground,
and later—as teenagers—under the gazebo, secretly smoking cigarettes and
complaining about their parents and the teachers at school. Ruben had been one
of them, and the coolest of them all.
She shook off her memories, the
keyboard coming back into focus. With fast fingers, she clicked on the document
to open it and print.
“Mr. Kimball is scheduled to
speak next Tuesday at five, Ruben.” Horrified at saying his name out loud, she
got up to grab it from the printer, keeping her eyes focused on everything
around her but him.
Instead of taking the printout,
he furrowed his brow and stared at her. “Do I know you?”
When their eyes met, he reached
out and lifted her chin with his index finger, studying her face for an uncomfortably
long time.
Shocked by his inappropriate
behavior, she struggled to keep her professional composure. The flyer slipped
from her trembling fingers, and it floated back and forth until it reached the
shiny wood floor.
“Oops,” she muttered, picking it
up.
Back behind the relative safety
of her desk, she forced herself to return his stare, her cheeks flushed with
warmth. Feeling like an awkward teenager, she straightened her spine.
“We used to live in the same
trailer park, but I don’t blame you for not remembering. It was ages ago.” With
a casual move of her hand, she tried to lighten the strained situation.
He continued to examine her face
until a spark of recognition flashed in his eyes. “Now I remember. You’re Emma,
the brown-haired girl with the old-fashioned clothes, pigtails and braces.”
Emma dropped her gaze at his
hurtful remark. The inside of her cheek became the victim of her irritation as
she chewed on it to process her feelings. If that were all he remembered about
her, screw him. Instead of voicing her opinion, she stayed silent.
“You haven’t changed much at
all,” he continued, fueling her anger even more.
She snatched her glasses from
his fingers and pushed the flyer into his hand. “Is that all you need?”
Instead of leaving, he narrowed
his eyes and studied her, his thumb and index finger rubbing his chin.
With each agonizing second that
passed, her self-esteem dwindled more and more. If only she’d chosen a more
flattering outfit this morning, instead of her usual cream-colored cardigan, blue
pleated skirt and sensible brown flats.
“Thanks for stopping by. Please
tell Mr. Kimball we look forward to welcoming him,” she said, using her most
professional voice in the hope of moving him along.
Ruben ignored her dismissal.
“You shouldn’t hide your best asset behind glasses, Emma” he said, flashing a
radiant smile. “You still have the most amazing blue eyes I’ve ever seen. How
are you?”
As a teenager, Ruben Templeton
had been popular and attractive, his rebellious bent making him even more alluring.
His lanky, boyish manner was gone now, replaced with an easy confidence and an
air of independence that only came with unbridled success. He overloaded her
senses with his immediate presence, indisputable charisma, and devastating
smile.
“I’m fine, thanks,” she replied,
afraid of falling under his spell.
“You might be perfect, Emma,” he
commented. “Please, would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner this
evening?”
His invitation shocked her. And
what did he mean by perfect? Too stunned to speak, she fiddled with her
glasses.
He arched his brow. “How about
seven o’clock at Joe’s Grill Bar? It’s one of my favorite restaurants, and
their filet mignon is the best in town.”
Ruben looked striking, his thick
hair dark and wavy, his eyes like midnight, his features sharp. But that didn’t
mean she should go out with him.
“Running into you can’t be a coincidence. I
would love to catch up with you.” His lips curved again into a charming smile,
and her resistance started to crumble.
“For old time’s sake. It would
mean a lot to me,” he continued, his eyes pleading
Instead of listening to her
intuition, telling her not to set herself up for disappointment, and warning
her to keep her distance, she nodded. “That sounds great.”
With a slight bow, he lifted her
hand to his lips and kissed it. “I look forward to it.” He released her hand
with another million-dollar smile, turned on his heel, and walked away.
She watched him stroll toward
the exit, broad shouldered and narrow hipped, catching the attention of more than
a few women. That’s how it had always been, she reflected, regretting she’d
caved under his charm. What had come over her to agree? Ruben had always been
out of her league, all the girls competing for his attention, gawking at him,
envious of the one at his side. Many predicted he would become a famous model,
his face on the cover of magazines, or an actor, revered for his talent and
magnetism.
She hadn’t seen him since moving
away. But over the last twelve years, she’d secretly kept track of him through
mutual acquaintances and social media. Pictures from football games,
homecoming, prom, and graduation had scrolled across her computer screen. Ruben
had been valedictorian, graduating with honors and receiving all the important
scholarships. Despite the predictions, he chose a stringent education at Yale,
the first student from Dunedam to enter such a prestigious school. Ruben was
the golden boy.
~~~~~~
After he exited the library,
Ruben Templeton pulled his smartphone from his pocket and pressed a contact in
his favorites. “Hey, it’s me,” he said, a calculating expression on his face.
“Hey, you. What’s up?” the voice
on the other end of the line asked.
“You know what we talked about,
right? I think I may have found the exact woman I have in mind for you. She’s
about twenty-seven, painfully shy, average and modest looking, nice skin, no
make-up, and dull brown hair. But she’s attractive in a studious, respectable
and bespectacled way. Basically, the image of our old school librarian. With a
bit of work, she could be spruced up and precisely what we’re looking for.”
He listened for a few moments,
his disgruntled frown deepening as he stepped into his Ferrari and merged into
traffic. “I know you’re not crazy about the idea, but I thought I explained my
reasons. And yes, I know a little about her background, but intend to find out
more tonight. I’m taking her to dinner at Joe’s Grill Bar. I’ll keep you
posted.”
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