The sun was bright in the eastern sky the next day when Meaghan walked into her dingy office building and sat down in her tiny cubicle, ignoring the babble of the other workers. The employment agency promised to call her if they found anything, but it wasn"t encouraging.She sighed.
"Good morning, Meg!" Cynthia"s bright voice broke through the other voices. The office manager, Cynthia was an older woman, her brunette hair pulled in a chignon. She was Meaghan"s boss, and had worked at the company for many years. She plopped several files on Meaghan"s desk. "Here is the 2018 end-of-year overseas distribution report for France. Could you please proof it and make sure it"s accurate? We"ll need them for a meeting next week."
Meaghan nodded. Although she was forced to leave school in the wake of her parent"s death, she was able to complete her schooling with night cla.s.ses and free lessons from her former teachers. She was fluent in English and French, and was frequently asked to a.s.sist in communication to other countries.
She turned on her computer, placed her bag in the drawer, and opened up the file.
Several hours later, the preliminary review was done, and Meaghan rubbed her eyes. She needed to get in touch with Ivoire, her contact in Nice, France, but with the seven-hour difference, it would have to wait until the afternoon. Standing up and stretching her back, she decided to stroll down to the nearby market for a quick snack.
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Rickie drove along the waterfront to the family storage facility. Traffic was heavy, even before noon, and he rolled down the windows of his sport utility vehicle to catch any stray ocean breeze. The foot traffic on the sidewalks was relatively light.
Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a familiar figure. Slowing down, he realised it was the woman who had haunted his dreams last night. He drove ahead of her, then pulled to the side of the road and rolled his window down.
"Excuse me!" he called out. The woman hesitated, but then turned towards him. Here in the bright sunlight, he could see her from head to toe, and smiled at the picture she made.
Gone was the severe waitress outfit; instead, she was wearing a long, flowing skirt of greens and blues, with a white sleeveless turtle neck blouse contrasting with the darker tones of her arms. Her hair was pulled away from her face by a b.u.t.terfly clip, but left loose and straight down the back of her head. It was longer than he thought, hanging just below her shoulders. Her face was exactly how he remembered, except that her eyes grew wider as she recognised him.
She gave a nervous bow, and began walking faster down the sidewalk, away from the vehicle. Rickie quickly climbed out of the truck and hurried after her. "Wait!"
Meaghan ignored the summons, choosing to flee rather than face the man who caught her and her sister by the pool, but loud footsteps behind her warned her that escape was impossible. She suddenly stopped short, and turned to face her pursuer; he almost ran into her, stopping just before he slammed into her, his Cole Haans almost on top of her modest sandals. He awkwardly hopped backwards, paused and spoke three quiet words.
"It is you."