Walking back, he set the pitchers down in the center of the table, taking his seat in between Marc and Faith, Bart's wife.
Marc chuckled, causing Luke to turn his way, his eyebrow lifted in question.
"You strike out with that beauty at the bar when the fight started?"
Ducking his head, Luke replied, "Yeah, I guess I did. Didn't even get her name before all hell broke loose."
Clapping Luke on the shoulder, Marc said, "No worries, man. Her loss."
Appreciating the gesture, Luke nodded. Easy for you to say. You're the big, outdoorsy type the women ogle every time we go out.
Feeling a close presence at his side, he turned and looked down at Faith. Bart's beautiful wife was peering up at him, the intensity in her gaze overpowering.
"I feel … I'm not sure, Luke," she said, haltingly.
He watched her carefully, noting her struggle. Faith, while not a professed seer, had a special gift and occasionally her visions and intuition assisted the Saints.
"I saw her when you were over at the bar talking to her. I felt a danger with that woman. Uncertainty. Even fear."
Luke's gaze involuntarily jumped to the door where the woman had disappeared. Opening his mouth to speak, he hesitated, not knowing what to say. His eyes found hers again, hoping she had more to give him.
He leaned over as she lifted her head to whisper, "I sense … you will meet her again. She will need you." Cocking her head to the side, she added, "And you will need her."
Before Luke had a chance to ask Faith more, she leaned into Bart who pulled his wife in closely. The group of Saints and their women continued their party, laughs and tales abounding.
As the gathering disbanded, Luke said his goodbyes and walked with the others to the parking lot. His gaze moved around the large space, wondering if he would see the woman. She left an hour ago. What the hell do I think she's doing? Hanging out here just to tell me her name? With a mental shake, he gave the others a wave as he drove home. Alone. As usual.
*
Charlie slipped into the old, tiny camper van after securing her Vespa onto the back. Keeping all lights off until she secured the door and made sure the few windows were closed tightly was her first order of business. Then, and only then, did she turn on the camper light sitting on the tiny table. Taking a thorough look around, she checked to make sure there had not been any intruders while she was gone. The few tricks she learned about the placement of items in the camper had been put to use and she was sure no one entered while she was gone.
Stepping into the minuscule bathroom that consisted of a toilet, sink, and a shower overhead, she looked into the mirror. Her black hair shone under the faint light as her dark eyes took in her appearance. With a sigh, she looked skyward as her fingers nimbly took out her contacts. Placing them in the contact case, filled with solution, she carefully shut the lid before replacing it in her makeup bag.
Sliding her hand upward over her forehead and under her bangs, she removed the wig. Holding it reverently, she gave the hairpiece a little shake. Stepping out of the bathroom, she placed the wig in a drawer, next to several others. Running her long fingers through her natural hair, she massaged her scalp. Oh, that feels good.
Next, she stepped out of her high-heeled boots, wiggling her toes in relief. How do women wear these killer heels? Sneakers had always been her footwear of choice … well, the fact that I never learned how to walk with heels on probably had something to do with that! Slipping off her jeans, she jerked her sweater over her head. Pulling on jersey pajama bottoms and a soft camisole, she washed off the unfamiliar makeup. Looking into the mirror again, she smiled. Yeah … that looks like me. Whoever I am now.
Turning around, she lit the small camper stove and heated the kettle full of water. In a few minutes, she placed a hot cup of steeping tea in the sink since there was no room on the twelve inches of counter. Hearing a noise outside, she held her breath until the car passed by. Releasing the deep breath in a sigh, she sat on the bench seat, opening her laptop.
Quickly checking emails, she ascertained there was nothing of importance. No news is good news. She worked for an hour for her latest client, creating a few fake profiles on social media and loading them with pictures and events.
Closing that file, her fingers hesitated over the keys, fighting the urge to see if he was on. Shutting her eyes for a moment, she relished the sight of him. Her mind slid back to the first time she had ever seen Luke Costas.
Freshman year at MIT and I rushed toward the Engineering building, hoping I was not going to be late for the meeting. All year long, my favorite professor spoke of the previous president of Tau Beta Pi, the Engineering society … Luke Costas … and even though he had graduated, he was coming back for the society's final meeting of the year. I'd seen his picture on the wall, along with all the former presidents, and every time I passed it, I had to force myself to not stop and stare. He was beautiful. Dark hair. Firm jaw. Dark brown eyes. Distinguished and oh, so handsome.