he looked around his living room, he could hear the wind blowing outside and the churning of the nearby ocean. So many things and so much time had all come and gone so quickly. There had always been goals. Go to school, get out of school, go to more school. Get a job, get a better job, get an even better job. He wondered what the goal was now. Along with pursuing and achieving these goals, there was no mention of the good things that came and went and that might never return. No mention that there would, or would not be, better times ahead. Grant was haunted by the absence of his friends, wondering if the best times were now past him, if this was all he would have, all he would be. He gently laid the beeping phone back in its cradle.
CHAPTER 1
Two Weeks Later, Friday, 3:00 PM
Grant looked at the woman behind the bar—she was beautiful. Even from across the room, she was quite captivating, her hair black, her skin tanned, but naturally olive in hue, the smile highly powered, all set off by her bright white, crisply starched shirt. She appeared to be in great physical shape, looking like she did something besides mix drinks to be that way. He suspected she was of Spanish, perhaps Mediterranean heritage, maybe both. She was of average height, but her composure and confident aura made her seem taller. What he did know was that he really liked the looks of her. It baffled him that the impression she made came that quickly. He could not remember ever being in a Ritz before, so he was impressed with the décor. He was more impressed with the woman. Maybe it was the woman that made the bar look as fine as it did. He approached the bar, finding a seat. When she spoke, he liked her even more.
“Welcome to the Ritz.”
“Hello.”
“Who am I meeting today?”
“Grant, my name is Grant.”
“Well Señor Grant, I am Isobelle,” she reached across the bar and shook his hand.
Grant could instantly feel the energy when she touched him. This was something new for him. A strong grip, but there was something more than that. There were callouses there, but that was not what he noticed first. What he noticed was more like a vibration. The feeling gave way momentarily, but he felt the energy between them, emanating from her hands, linger in the air.
“Are you all right?” She asked.
“I never know, but why do you ask?” Grant replied. He could feel the chemistry between him and this beautiful woman.
“I can sense that something has happened to you today.”
“Really?” Grant asked, surprised.
“Yes. You have had some … some upheaval in your life today, maybe there is more to come.”
“And you know that how?”
Isobelle quickly changed her demeanor when she realized what she had said.
Grant was stunned by the power he was feeling from her hand, and not just because she was a beautiful woman. It was like the energy of a fast moving stream, with nearly the same calming effect. He tried to look around the room, but he could not. He could not detach his eyes from hers. He stared at her hand for a few moments, and then looked up into her brown eyes. The look in her eyes told him that not only she did she know what had happened to him, but also that she was going to make sure nothing else bad was going to happen while she was around. Her eyes saw more than just folks ordering drinks—they could see into people, and Grant could almost feel her eyes penetrating his soul. This made his ordeal thus far seem almost worth it. She was shorter than she had appeared from the other end of the bar, five-foot-four, maybe five-five, but the way she carried herself made her seem taller. He felt something stir inside him when their eyes met—something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
“Forgive me.” She let go of his hand, but her smile did not dim.
“Have had sort of a rough patch today, but you probably get that a lot.” Grant turned his head, showing that his neck was stiff, and that it was difficult to do so. He took a seat at the bar.
“Sometimes, but I feel your difficulties are real.” Her gaze was still fixed on him, and she knew he was in pain.
“Car wreck.”
“Yes, I can tell.”
“What?”
“Nothing. You should take it easy.”
“I’m meeting someone, maybe several people today. At least one of them won’t understand, no, make that won’t accept ‘take it easy.’” He brought his head slowly back center, focusing back on the woman behind the bar.
“Well, I understand take it easy, so please relax. I am not that busy, so you can relax here, unless you think you need to go lie down.”
“Nope, this is better.”
“You are meeting friends.”
“You asking me, or telling me?” Grant squinted.
“Could I get you something to drink?”
“Oh, water would probably be a good start, if that is all right.”
“Of course.” Isobelle did not have to reach far for the pitcher, so she kept her eyes on Grant. “You are not from here, but from the looks of you, you have not come far.”
“Meeting this knucklehead friend of mine that has been missing for a while. May be meeting someone else too, that I have been missing for a while.” Grant put his hand up to the side of his head. “How is it you know this about me?”
“Lucky guess. Tell me more.”
“Here from Encinitas, friend has been in some sort of trouble, haven’t seen him in a while, a guy ran a red light and plowed into the side of my truck, that pretty much sums it up. I’ve been in wrecks before. This one wasn’t that bad … except for trashing my truck. Not too happy about that,”
“That is quite a bit. Anything else?” Isobelle placed a coaster on the bar, then a glass of water in front of Grant.
“No.”
“Are you sure? You seem to have more on your mind.”
“Oh, not that I want to talk about.”
The drive and the subsequent wreck upon his arrival did remind him that he didn’t know why more people didn’t just fall victim to the spell of the highway and drive off the road. It was so numbing that Grant wondered why more people didn’t just give in to the angst and ennui that seemed to germinate on that hard, black torrent. Maybe the guy that ran into him had done just that. Maybe he had just had enough. It had been a long time since Grant had been on a road trip, and based on the early results of this one, he was not thinking about scheduling any more anytime soon.
“Well, it is very fortunate you were not injured more severely.” Isobelle continued to watch Grant very closely. “Does anyone know you are here?”
“I’m not sure how to answer that, but probably not.” Grant placed his hand up to his neck, rubbing the back of it, hoping it would ease how tight he was. “You see a loud, obnoxious guy, few inches shorter than me, east coast accent, sort of sandy,
