Today, for the first post, I’m sharing Marian and Richard’s initial reactions to each other. Marian demonstrates her phantom ability while Richard demonstrates his ability to turn heads. 🙂
Marian walked to the back of her desk to face the window. She held out her arms, as if to absorb the sun, and he watched, rapt, as she become, clothes and all, intangible. It all happened in seconds, until he could see the outline of her but he could also see right through her.
She floated several feet into the air. Oddly, she seemed to have more curls in her hair in this state. She slipped through the window and outside. He rose, fascinated, and walked closer. She hung in midair just outside the window, light streaming through her, looking like an angel captured in stained glass. He drew in his breath.
In the blink of an eye, she passed back through the window, into the office, and an ordinary mortal stood before him once more.
The healing ability that kept him from aging was subtle. Telepathic ability was similarly quiet. He had fought a firestarter to the death a few hundred years ago. That had been a spectacular battle.
But he had never seen any ability to match the sheer awesomeness of Marian Doyle becoming one with the light.
It was early on a weekday morning. Bryant Park, an oasis of calm in the midst of the midtown skyscrapers, was nearly deserted. The restaurant was closed, the carousel silent and the public tables and chairs almost completely empty.
Richard chose a table in the middle of the park and pulled out a chair for her. “Thank you. I seem to be thanking you a lot today.”
“You are quite welcome for all of it.” He folded himself into the chair. The sunlight streaming in from behind them caught the blond bleached into his hair by the sun and wind. No wonder he wanted to take a walk.
He needed to be outdoors, not inside a stuffy office. His tanned face contained some age lines, primarily around his eyes. If he were an ordinary person, she would have guessed his age between thirty and forty.
Richard Genet wasn’t ordinary. He stretched his long legs out in front of him and relaxed into the wire mesh chair.
“You spend a great deal of time outdoors?” she asked.
“Yes. I live in California, near the ocean.” He would fit right in with the movie stars.
“Do you surf?”
“Every day. Do you?”
She shook her head. “I’ve never tried.”
“Not a particular interest, or do you hate it?”
“It’s never come up.” I would learn if you agreed to teach me, she thought. He must look gorgeous in
a wetsuit, on a surfboard, about to take a wave, the sun and wind at his back.
Thank God she hadn’t said that out loud.