batted it away, "Please, James, I just want to go
home," she repeated in gulps as she moved to her
desk on shaky legs, retrieved her keys and purse
and left the plant.
Chapter 3
Alex sat dumfounded in her car for several minutes
before starting the engine.
Eager to be away from
the plant, she tore out of the driveway and let her
car do the driving to her small house not far from
the plant.
Upon arriving, she stumbled in the
front door dropping the contents of her hands and
arms onto the couch.
The house was small, but serviceable, she didn't
plan on needing more space than just for
herself.
The entrance, where she stood, brought
her directly into the living room.
A doorway on
the other side of the room led her to the dining
room, small kitchen and the stairs.
Briefly, she
glanced about her living room with its fancy
furniture.
Her furniture had gone into storage
when she moved in with Tad and then brought it
with her to Ashmore Valley.
The overstuffed
couch, chaise lounge, entertainment unit and table
set had looked fashionable in her townhouse in
Springfield, but they looked out of place here.
As twilight continued to fall outside, still on unsure
legs, Alex walked to the kitchen and removed a
bottle of vodka from the cupboard.
She quickly
poured herself two fingers of the Stoli into a rock
glass and downed it quickly.
Alex had never been
much of a drinker, but found that the alcohol
calmed her still shaking body.
Alex sat down at
the table in the dining room and poured another
drink.
She drank this glass slower as the alcohol
moved through her veins.
She was still shocked
and a little more than slightly frightened of the
incident at the factory.
Alex caught sight of her
reflection in the reflection of the sliding glass door
that led from the dining room to the patio in back of
the house.
Her disheveled appearance served as a
wake up call to reality making her move from the
table to climb the stairs for a hot bath.
Alex sat in the tub and scrubbed herself for the
third time.
It seemed no matter how hard she
scrubbed both her hair and her body she could still
feel the touch and smell of her assailant.
The
sounds of her attacker's breathing and hard voice
kept running through her head like some cruel joke
and she shook her head to stop the noise.
Exhausted, Alex climbed from the bathtub, wrapped
herself in a towel and walked across the hall to her
bedroom.
The bedroom looked overwhelmed by
the large four-poster oak bed that occupied the
comer between the windows.
Alex had covered it
with a mauve comforter and throw pillows.
Now it
offered its sympathy to Alex as she crawled into it,
still damp from her bath, emotionally overwhelmed
from her attack and sleepy from the
vodka.
Before her eyes closed she remembered
briefly, the warmth of James' touch and a small
smile touched her lips.
James drove himself home at a steady pace trying
to keep the attack out of his mind.
He was
concerned about her, but hadn't located a home
number in her file to be able to call and check on
her.
He thought about stopping at Grayson Laird's
house for a quick beer before going home, but
thought better of it.
Jean would be at the house,
packing and moving her stuff out.
He promised he
would help her.
James pulled his SUV into the driveway and parked
alongside the U-Haul that Jean backed up to the
door.
As he walked into the house, he glanced
into the truck and noticed that Jean had been here
for a while because it was almost full.
He also saw
that Jean's father and brother Jay were helping her.
"Hello," he announced as he walked in the house,
hoping to attract somebody's attention.
Jean came down the stairs followed by her father
and brother who were moving her cedar chest from
their bedroom.
She hesitated briefly but
continued towards him.
"Hi.
I didn't think you
were gonna make it," she said.
James looked into those eyes that he had fallen in
love with five years ago; the eyes that were now so
filled with pain and hatred for him.
James
attempted to reach out and take one of her hands,
but she jerked it away.
She had made her choice
and now refused his touch.
"I'm here.
What needs done?"
"Nothing," she said opening the door and moving
out of the way so that the cedar chest could be
loaded onto the truck, "we're finished.
That was
the last piece.
James had been surprised at how much they had
gotten on the truck, but didn't realize that Jean had
been able to finish without him.
"You're done?"
"Yeah, you didn't expect us to wait for you to show
up did you?"
"Actually, I thought you and I could sit down and
talk before you started.
"Why?
What more is there to say?"
"You can tell me why we can't work this out.”
"James, I've told you.
Your affairs can be followed
by your passport.
You've sampled everything and
everyone in anyplace you've been.
Do you really
expect me to stay here and play happy homemaker
while you dally with every beautiful woman you
see?"
"Jean, I'm sorry.
What about therapy?"
“Jean, it's time," came a voice from behind Jean.
James turned his attention to Ray Martin, Jean's
father.
He remembered how upset Ray had been
when Jean had called him and told him about the
impending divorce.
Ray had not been supportive
of the marriage to begin with, and now with James'
life suffering more scrutiny came further under fire
from him.
"Jean," James said reaching for her arm as she
turned to go.
"James, let her go," replied her father, "Don't you
think you've hurt my daughter more than enough?"
"That was never my intention, Ray and you know
it. "
"It doesn't matter now.
She's made up her mind,"
he said with finality and left James standing on the
porch.
James walked back inside and closed the
door softly.
The house had a tomb like feeling.
It
felt strange and foreign without Jean's stuff here in
the house.
James had deluded himself into
thinking that as long as her possessions remained
she would return.
But that hadn't
happened.
She had finally come and claimed her
life, a life away from him.
He and Jean had been remodeling the first level of
the house and pieces of drywall and lumber laid
about haphazardly.
He surveyed the house
remorsefully, wondering if he should finish it at
all.
James walked down the hallway towards the
kitchen and retrieved a beer from the fridge then
went to the sliding glass door and let the dogs back
into the house.
Jean didn't like Sheba and Sabi, so
had let them out into the yard to keep them from
under foot.
James took a swig of his beer, lit a
cigarette and moved into the living room.
The
kitchen and living room were the only finished
rooms in the house.
He had arranged it so that
the dining room would double as the living room
until the formal living room was finished.
The
dogs followed him quietly and climbed onto the
couch with him when he sat down.
James closed his eyes briefly and a-flash-of Alex
came to his mind.
She had evaporated from his
thoughts for a while, but returned when he calmed
down.
He was still worried about what had
happened at the plant, but would be unable to talk
to her until morning.
"I hope she comes back," he said to the dogs,
"When I find out who it was, I'll have his ass in a
sling. "
James settled deeply into the couch, stretching out
and drinking more from his bottle.
He dozed off
finally, with the television off, still thinking about
Alexandra Chambers.
Chapter 4
Alex moaned softly as the alarm went off.
She
knew she had to get up if she wanted the noise to
stop.
Alex had put the alarm clock on the dresser
across the room to force her to get up and shut it
off; if she had placed it on one of the night stands,
she would have just hit the snooze button and gone
back to sleep.
Alex's night had been rough.
She
had slept fitfully, but tossed and turned as her
memories created nightmares with endings of
James holding her in his arms.
Angrily, she threw
the covers off and stalked to the
dresser.
Slamming her hand down on the clock,
the irritating buzzer shut off and a flick of her wrist
turned on the radio.
Alex chose a pair of gray
wool dress slacks from the closet and a black
short-sleeved sweater from the drawer.
She had
just picked up her brush to do her hair, when the
sight of faint bruises on her upper arms and her
right breast caught her eye.
"Damn," she said angrily stroking her long red
tresses.
She switched her sweater to a mauve
longer sleeved one, brushed her teeth and got
dressed.
Alex was slamming out of her house, just as James
was entering the plant.
He stalked past Francine's
desk and stopped in the center of the room.
As
Jeff entered the office from the plant, he found
James stooping and fingering the carpet.
"Lose something," he asked walking around him.
"Nope," James answered non-committedly and
continued into his office.
Jeff stared after him briefly, shrugged his shoulders
and went to his desk.
The floor employees were going full throttle when
Alex walked in through the receiving dock
door.
She was avoiding Francine's office
purposefully and planned on going in through
James' office, if he was on the floor.
She didn't
want to see him this morning, she wasn't prepared
for that.
Her experience here last night was
nerve-wracking enough, but her dreams of James
put her on edge.
"Morning, Alex" came a voice from beside her.
Alex stopped and turned to the voice but didn't
recognize the face.
She tried to think of the name
that went with the face and glanced at the name
tag on his shirt.
"No peeking," he said mischievously, covering up
the name with his clipboard.
Alex looked over man in front of her.
He towered
over her by a good foot or so and was pencil
thin.
His brown eyes were kind, warm and old, but
his mustache and smile, gave way to the fact that
there was a little boy in there ready to play.
He
held a pinch of Skoal in between his lower lip and
gum and wore a hat with the company logo
emblazoned upon it.
"You don't remember my name, I'm hurt," he said
in a childlike voice.
"Not for lack of trying," she replied smiling.
"You should do that more often, Alex.
You're
really quite beautiful when you smile, like a ray of
sunshine," he said before turning and walking into
Larry's office.
Alex stared after him briefly, got a coffee from the
machine in the break area and opened the door to
James' office carefully.
The office was empty,
much to Alex's relief.
As she passed the desk, she
noticed the absence of James' coffee mug and the
still burning cigarette in the ashtray.
She was
about to snub it out, when she heard James talking
with Francine from the inner office.
"The work order book is on my desk Francine, just
grab it.
I need to see Jeff. "
Alex quickly abandoned the office and continued to
her desk.
"Morning Francine," she said.
"Morning, Alex," said Francine passing her and
going into James' office.
Alex smiled to herself at the still cold reception
from Francine, as she laid her briefcase, purse and
keys on her desk.
She was in the process of
hanging up her coat, when the man from the floor
came in.
"Have you remembered me yet?”
"I haven't had time, Sam," she said glancing at his
nametag before he could cover it up.
"You cheated," he said smiling.
"I know," she said smiling back, taking a sip of
coffee and sitting down at her desk, "What can I do
you out of?"
"Do you remember the bill of materials you gave
me yesterday? It's wrong this morning.”
Alex shook her head at what was quickly becoming
a routine and reprinted him the document he
needed.
She added that to her list of items she
wanted to talk to Allen about.
Alex was about to
head into the plant when she remembered that she
forgot the paperwork she needed.
Turning too
quickly, Alex caught her right arm on the filing
cabinet that stood inside the door behind her desk.
"Damn," she swore aloud as she bumped one of the
bruises from the night before.
"You okay," asked Allen.
"Yeah, I just keep forgetting about this damn thing.
"Slow down, you don't have to accomplish
everything today," he said smiling, going back to his
calculator.
Alex grabbed the papers from her desk and headed
into the factory to see Doug Slade, the inventory
control clerk.
As she approached him, she saw
several of the other men detach themselves from
his area and head back to their stations.
"Must be my breath," she said jokingly as she
reached Doug.
"It's your hair," he said in reply, "They're afraid
they'll catch fire.”
Alex unconsciously brushed a lock of it behind her
ear and smiled casually.
She disliked her hair and
comments about it.
"Sorry," Doug said noticing her discomfort.
"It's okay, I learned long ago learned to live with it.
Alex plunged into the problem at hand, sat down
with him at his desk in the inventory area and
worked there for the next half hour.
As Alex
worked, she noticed, quite often, that several of the
guys stopped and stared at her.
She was still
nervous about the attack last night, but there were
so many people here now, that a sense of security
enveloped her like a warm blanket.
Doug had just finished entering the last part
number, when she heard a page for her to return to
the office.
"Now what," she said with a smile,
excusing herself she walked back to the
office.
"Yeah, Francine," she said as she entered.
"Jeff wants you," she bit out.
Alex continued into Jeff’s office and found him with
James.
"Close the door Alex and have a seat," Jeff said with
concern in his voice and etched on his face.
Alex did as was requested and sat herself down in