“That's Hayley,” Luke said. “But if you knew how she was raised, you would understand why she’s a little hard about protecting what she believes is hers.”
“I get that. Lucky for me. In all these years we’ve never even had an argument.”
Luke laughed. “We used to fight all the time. Over important issues like which football team was better…the Giants or the Jets. And, of course, about Mikey.”
Fiona had to keep herself from flinching at the mention of his name. “Ah yes, Mikey.”
“Is he in prison yet?” Luke shook his head. “That kid was a criminal-in-training back then.”
“Jailed a few times, maybe. In and out. Misdemeanors.” Fiona tried to keep her voice light but her feelings about Mikey were hard to mask. “He’s a rascal, and he probably has something bad to look forward to in the future.”
“Is Hayley still oblivious?”
Fiona was uncomfortable with this subject, and wanted to change it. “Pretty much. Mikey means the world to her, so we don’t discuss him.”
“Good plan. I guess we all have our blind spots.”
The conductor returned with their drinks, and some snacks, and placed them on the tray tables. “I’ll be back to take your dinner orders in a while.”
“Thanks, Charlie.” When the conductor was gone, Luke looked into Fiona’s blue eyes and raised his glass. “To new friends.”
Fiona smiled softly. “To new friends.”
EIGHT
Hayley let herself into her apartment and immediately kicked off the Louboutins. She poured herself a glass of wine and headed for the bedroom. She wanted to take off this ridiculous dress as quickly as possible. She had worn it out of the store so now she couldn’t even return it.
She was unable to open the hook at the back. Frustrated, she pulled and yanked furiously, until she tore through the fragile material. Angrily, she threw the dress on the floor of her closet, pulled out sweat pants and a big wool sweater. After putting them on, she had a big gulp of wine, crawled into her bed, and pulled up the covers.
She knew she was being childish. She knew she would see Luke at the award party they were planning for him. But the time had felt so right to her today. Time for him to see her as a woman, and a successful woman, not that tough little kid he used to know, when they both lived in a homeless shelter.
It was her own fault. She should have taken the meeting with Luke herself. On the other hand, she had known that if she had to talk about menus and decor she would have become tongue-tied around him. That had happened the last few times they had seen each other, and she had ended up acting like a fool.
Her plan had been to let Fiona take care of that part of the meeting, and for her to pop in looking stunning after the details were set. She longed for Luke to be blown away, which he would be when he saw much she had learned, how much she had changed. She wanted…the words came out in a whisper…”I want him to love me.”
Instead he was on a train with her best friend, and she was sure that Luke, like everyone else, would be mesmerized by her. It wasn’t anything Fiona did. It was who she was. Funny and smart, gorgeous and sexy.
Why couldn’t people fall in love with Hayley at first sight? Why was Fiona the star, while Hayley was the sidekick? The drone? There was no getting around it. That’s the way things were. Tears of frustration filled her eyes.
Her own feelings shocked Hayley. She had never knowingly been jealous of Fiona, not in all the years they’d been friends. She took a long swig of wine, and headed into the kitchen for the bottle. She refilled her glass and went back to bed.
Or had she always been jealous? Had it been this way all along? Maybe she had just been pushing down her envy, because she felt she didn’t deserve anything better than second place.
Hayley swallowed more wine. Maybe it would turn out to be just another business meeting between her two best friends. It had better be, she thought. Fiona could have everyone else, and be the superstar of the world.
But she couldn’t have Luke. Hayley would never let that happen. Never.
NINE
Fiona and Luke were sipping their drinks and talking as easily as if they had known each for a lifetime.
“I grew up on the campus of the college,” Fiona told him. “And because my father was the Professor of Ethics, every time I got into the tiniest bit of trouble whoever caught me would administer a lecture on my extremely non-ethical behavior. My parents finally took pity on me, and let me go to Miss Porter’s.”
“It's funny how people think you’ll be like your parents.” He laughed sardonically. “Of course, in my case, my mom took off when I was four years old, and my dad was a drunk who couldn’t keep a job. People didn't have great expectations for me.”
Fiona studied him. “I guess you showed them,” she said quietly. “Was that important to you? To prove you weren’t like your father?”
“I think it was.” Luke looked out of the window, thinking about it. “Sure. It has to be why I am so driven.”
“I think you can take a break now,” Fiona said. “This award you’re getting is about the highest recognition a television journalist can have.”
“It was a tough story to do. Dangerous too, I suppose. But we managed to relocate over two hundred women and children, who had been brought here from the Far East with the promise of a better life.” Luke’s jaw tightened. It was the kind of story that stayed with you. “Instead, they were being held against their will, and sold to the highest bidder.”
“I saw part of the series,” Fiona told him. “It took a lot of courage for those women to come forward, to be interviewed.”
“They’re the ones who deserve this award,” Luke said, “not me. The sad part is that even though we got a couple of hundred to safety, more women, more children are brought here every day to take their place.”
“Isn’t there anything that can stop it?”
“Yeah. Getting to the kingpin, the guy who makes it all work,” Luke said. “Everyone knows who it is, but without hard evidence he can’t be touched.”
“How awful. So he gets away scot-free?”
“So far. But it’s only a matter of time until he bullies the wrong woman. I’m not going to stop until I find a way to nail Mr. Eddie Rivers.”
Fiona froze. “Eddie Rivers? He’s involved in this?”
Luke gave her a hard look. “How do you know about Eddie Rivers?”
Fiona stared out of the window, trying to get her emotions under control. “We’re about to cross the Delaware River. We must be heading into Pennsylvania.”
“Fiona? Do you know Eddie Rivers?” Luke pressed.
Fiona continued looking out of the window as the train sped onto the bridge without slowing down. “Look how the river is churning, seems threatening somehow.”
Those were the last words either of them said before the train car began to shimmy violently. Fiona was thrown out of her seat, but Luke managed to grab her and keep her from hitting the floor. He held her tightly as the train rocked violently from side to side.
“What’s happening?”
Fiona’s words were drowned out by the terrible screeching of brakes. People around them were screaming.
Fiona clung to Luke, filled with fear as the train car left the tracks. And then they were falling…falling into empty space.
TEN
The empty wine bottle lay on its side next to the bed. The curtains were closed, and the only light in the room came from the flickering images on the muted television set. In the darkened room Hayley’s slender body barely made a ripple under the down comforter.
“Hayley!” The door to the bedroom burst open, the overhead light was switched on, and the tranquility was shattered by Mikey’s booming voice. “Hayley! Where the hell are you?”
He turned to go back to the living room when there was a moan from under the bed covers.
“Hayley?” Mikey unceremoniously threw off the bedclothes to reveal his sister, a tiny lump of misery, c
urled up on the bed.
“Go away.” Hayley pulled the duvet back up over her head.
Mikey plopped down on the bed, munching on a chicken leg he had purloined from her refrigerator. “What are you doing in bed? It’s only seven thirty!”
“Just let me die in peace.” She groaned. “But first, can you get me some water?”
Mikey picked up the empty wine bottle, and laughed. “Somebody got themselves sloshed! Hayley girl, I’m proud of you!”
“Shut up. Water.”
“Say please.”
“Go to hell.”
“That’s better.” He laughed. “Now you’re showing signs of life. Water coming up.”
He went into the bathroom and returned with water in a toothpaste-tinged glass. “What you really need is a grilled cheese and bacon sandwich, and a Coke. Best cure ever for a hangover. I know these things.”
“Please don’t discuss food with me right now,” Hayley said, emerging from under the covers. She drank the glass of water in one gulp.
He stared at her. “My God! What did you do?”
“What?”
“Your hair is gone! What did you do with your hair?”
Hayley pulled the duvet over her head again. “I don’t want to discuss it.”
Mikey tugged the duvet back. “No, let me look at you.” He examined her hair as though he were a connoisseur of women’s hairstyles. “I like it. It’s like that movie star, what’s her name? Hiawatha.”
“Hathaway. Anne Hathaway. You think?” Hayley tentatively touched the strange new arrangement on her head.
“You’re prettier.”
Hayley managed a smile. “Thanks, Mikey.”
“So how come you got smashed?”
“It’s a long story.” She sat for a moment, hoping the room would stop spinning. “I don’t feel so good. Do you think that grilled cheese thing works?”
“Like a charm.”
“Order me one from the deli, would you? I’m going to take a shower. There’s money in my purse.”
“Speaking of money—”
“Don’t even ask!” Hayley replied. “I emptied my savings account today. I can't help you this time.”
“I got myself in a bit of a bind, or I wouldn’t ask.” Mikey gave her his most doleful smile.
“I’m cleaned out, Mikey. I’m not kidding. I barely have enough cash to get through the week. Now order that cheese thing for me, before I die.”
“Okay, okay. Just asking,” he said. “You shower. I’ll order the cure for you.”
Once Hayley was in the bathroom, Mikey picked up her bag. He took out a twenty-dollar bill for the sandwich. Glancing over his shoulder, to make sure she had closed the door, he searched through her bag, until he found what he was looking for. Inside the flap of her checkbook he found a stack of one-hundred-dollar bills, as he knew he would. He removed four, stuffed them into his pocket, put the rest back in the checkbook.
“I’ll order you a Coke, too. With lots of ice,” he called to the closed door and headed for the phone.
ELEVEN
Fiona could not move, and she didn’t know why. She tried to sit up but something was holding her down. Not an inanimate object, but something warm that carried with it hope.
The noise around her was deafening.
People were screaming. Some were crying softly. Others prayed. She heard sirens, lots of them. Men, somewhere in the distance, were shouting things she couldn’t make out. The sound that was loudest of all was the creaking and grinding of twisted metal, as the train carriage seemed to be moving, inching along toward what she had no idea.
She coughed, choking on the dust and smoke that filled the carriage, making it difficult to see anything or breathe.
“Fiona. Are you all right?” The voice was so ragged, it took her a moment to make the connection. Then she realized the rasping tones were actually the voice most Americans connected with Luke Thompson. It was not as mellifluous as it usually was.
“I don’t know,” she said, sounding like she’d swallowed gravel herself.
“Move carefully,” Luke said. “Very carefully.”
When he pulled himself off her it was only then that she realized Luke was the warm thing that had been holding her down, keeping her safe. Apparently he had thrown his body on top of hers, to protect her from the shattered glass that was everywhere. On the seats, under her body, in her hair.
Fiona tried to pull herself into a sitting position and realized the train was on its side. She was not on the floor of the carriage, but on one of the few windows that had not been shattered in the crash.
It seemed just minutes ago that she had been looking at the powerful Delaware River through this very window. Now there was nothing but blackness where the window rested on the rugged ground.
Something was brushing against her hair. She reached up to push whatever it was away, and discovered, to her horror, that she was touching a hand. It was a cold, dead hand dangling at an odd angle from the seat above her.
Fiona began to shake. A scream was forming deep inside her. Seeing panic overtaking her, Luke slid down next to her, held her face in his strong hands. He looked straight into her eyes.
“Breathe. Just breathe,” he instructed, his voice beginning to normalize.
She looked back at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying and comply. She couldn’t stop shivering.
“Listen to me. Slow breath in, slow breath out. Just breathe with me. That’s it. Nice and slow.”
Fiona never took her eyes away from his, and eventually her breathing slowed. And the shivering began to subside.
“That’s better. We need to think clearly. We don’t have much time.”
After a moment the tension, the panic, began to leave her body. “Okay, I'm okay,” she said.
“In and out. Deep breaths,” Luke whispered.
“You smell nice,” she said absently.
Her comment made him smile. “And you smell like Krispy Kremes,” he replied. “Delicious.”
She forced a laugh.
“Start moving things. One at a time,” he suddenly ordered. “Fingers, arms, ankles. Not too much. Just make sure nothing is broken, that you can walk.”
Fiona did as she was told. “Good to go,” she said. “Except that I’m very thirsty.”
“Fear does that to people. Sorry to say, my martini spilled, so you'll have to stick it out. We need to move on, leave here as fast as we can.”
“What happened?” she asked in a low voice.
“The best I can make out is that the train derailed, just as we crossed the Delaware from New Jersey into Pennsylvania,” Luke explained, speaking casually so as not to further panic her. “Most of the railway cars made it to the other side, but we are in the last car.”
“So we’re still in New Jersey? Bummer.”
Luke laughed out loud, in spite of the situation. “Do you know,” he said, “that I just might fall in love with you?”
There was a moment of electricity as their eyes met.
“Happens to me every time I’m in a train crash,” she said lightly, trying to break the intensity of the moment. She licked her fingers, and wiped a dried patch of blood from his forehead. “So what’s the plan?”
Before Luke could answer, the car shifted and they were sliding. The train car was twisting, and turning over, as it slid downward toward the river, taking a stand of willow trees with it. She clung to Luke, shaking, swallowing the scream in her throat. He held her against him, his arms tight around her.
People were screaming again. And then, miraculously, the car bumped up against something, a tree, a rock, or a small clump of bushes. It stopped with a jolt. The carriage had somehow managed to right itself in the process.
“I’m getting you out of here,” Luke said. “But you must stay put. Don’t move.” He crawled to the other side of the car, where the window was partially shattered. Pulling himself up onto the seat, he lay on his back. Using both feet, he kicked out th
e rest of the glass.
“Come on.” He held out his hand to Fiona who started crawling up toward safety. “Small, careful movements. Nothing big. Just work your way to me.”
She kept her eyes on him, and did as he said. Just as she reached the window, a baby cried somewhere behind them. Fiona froze. The cry was not loud enough. A baby in this situation should be screaming its head off.
Without a word, both Luke and Fiona started crawling on their bellies, Marine style, toward the whimpering. Hands clutched at Fiona.
“Under the seat,” a woman’s voice said weakly. “She's under the seat. I couldn’t hold on.” The baby’s mother was pinned under the crushed wall of the carriage.
“I’ll get her,” Fiona told the desperate woman. “Don’t worry. I’ll get her.” And she inched her way toward the baby sounds, brushing broken glass away from her path as she did.
Luke stayed with the woman. It took almost super-human strength, but somehow he managed to pull her out from under the twisted metal of the train wall.
The baby gave another little cry, and Fiona slid under the seat. “There you are! Hi. Hi, baby. Don’t be afraid. Everything’s going to be all right.”
She reached out, and carefully, very carefully, using the blanket the baby was wrapped in, pulled the little girl toward her.
The baby gave another cry, and Fiona started singing softly, some long-forgotten song from her childhood. She pushed herself backwards, holding the child, until they were both out from under the seat. She cradled the baby in her arms, gingerly picking shards of glass from the blanket.
“Here you are, little lady. It's okay.” She looked down at the beautiful little girl, who looked back at her and, astonishingly, smiled.
“What a brave girl you are.” Fiona cuddled the baby to her, and slowly began to work her way toward the window Luke had opened.
Luke had already managed to get the baby’s mother out of the train through the window. He took the baby from Fiona and put her into the outstretched arms of the grateful woman, who began to cry with relief, thanking them through her tears.