Daniel Reanny sat at a booth in the back corner, nursing a beer. He was waiting for someone; impatiently. The quiet hum of conversation infiltrated his thoughts, distracting him to no end, yet practically lulling him to sleep at the same time. Blinking back the haziness crowding his vision, Daniel fought to focus clearly on something. Anything. It was not the beer having this effect.
He gazed into space when a woman entering the bar caught his eye. She wore a pair of black jeans and a short dark blue sweater. Over that she wore a long black trench coat, it was open, the ends slapping loosely around her ankles. Long, straight, black hair cascaded over her shoulders, and startling dark eyes seemed to settle on him. Dan wasn't positive it was her.......Yes, yes it was. She neared the booth, and stopped to stare at him when she reached it.
"Parker?"
"Dan." she broke a smile, and leaned in, kissing his cheek.
"Hey kid. It's good to see you. Long time no talk." he grinned.
She looked older. Seasoned. One thing was certain: she was no longer a wet behind the ears rookie. She was a solid level headed being. Parker was beautiful, but there was something amiss. Something in the way she held herself. Slightly aloof, perhaps. Upon closer inspection, the smile lines around her eyes were no where to be seen. Instead, a sad haunted expression occupied the recesses of her deep brown orbs. Her mouth was awkward, as though it hadn't been used to smile often. As though she were out of practice.
"You're looking good, Dan."
"Thank you. You always were a wonderful liar." his said straight faced. Her mouth quirked.
"Where have you been, kid?"
"Here and there."
"And everywhere." Dan finished in a sing song voice. "I tried getting in touch with you."
"Hmm."
"I needed your opinion." he persisted.
"I wasn't available for consultation."
"What are you, a psychotrist or something?"
"The word is psychiatrist."
"Psychotrist. I'm speakin' my own damn language. You available for chit chat now?" Dan asked, taking another swig of his beer.
"I'm here, aren't I?"
"I'm honored." he replied wryly.
"What have you been up to? If you say this and that, I'm gonna drag you into the street and shoot ya." the older man across from her joked. Parker tensed visibly. Dan's eyes narrowed. "Sorry." he muttered. "I heard." he added as an afterthought.
"Hmm. Thank you."
After a minute of silence, Dan cleared his throat. "Had any jobs lately?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Depends on your definition of a job. I'm not looking for the kind of job you're talking about."
"Why?"
"Because. My skills have faded. I quit that line of work a long while ago."
"It's only been a year."
"One year, two months, and fourteen days." she corrected.
"Obsess much?"
"Hmm."
"I've got a job for you."
"Do you have a hearing problem?"
"I need your help."
"You don't need me."
"I do. Don't make me beg, Parker."
"You could do it yourself."
"No, I couldn't." Dan sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "Not anymore."
"What do you mean?" Parker asked with a frown.
"I'm going blind, Parker “. He admitted warily.
Her eyes bored into his, not wavering. "Glaucoma?"
"Cataracts.”
"Hmm."
"Is that all you ever say anymore?" Dan questioned wearily. "I can't see what color eye shadow you're wearing. I can't make out the fibers in your sweater. I can't......I can't be a bodyguard anymore. I miss too many things. A man can guard another man using only one arm, but he has got to have his eyes. There's no doing this job without sight. I'd screw up and get someone killed. I don't want that on my conscience."
"Why me?"
"Because you're the best." he shrugged.
"I used to be...then I killed a man."
"You didn't kill him. The scumbag rotting in a jail cell somewhere killed him. You just couldn't stop it."
"It's the same thing. Stopping it was my job. I failed." Parker argued.
"It's not your fault." Dan responded forcefully. "Please, Parker. I wouldn't trust anyone else."
Parker gazed into her friend's eyes for a moment. Silently, he begged her. Passing a hand across her face, she sighed. "I'll think about it."
"Good. I'll call you. Same number, or did you switch it again?"
"No, it's the same." she replied, standing.
"I'll see you around, Dan."
*****
Parker Mendoza settled back in her chair and eyed the mountain of paperwork in front of her. Dan had sent them Federal Express yesterday afternoon, but she hadn't wanted to look at them. Why was she getting herself into this again? If she closed her eyes, she could still hear the gun fire...still feel the burning sensation in her chest...still see the blood. It was dangerous work, she missed it. It was certainly more exciting than spying on cheating husbands for hours on end. She hadn't agreed to anything yet...she'd only promised Dan that she'd read the deposition. She took the first sheet of paper off the top, skimming through it briefly. The words "successful musical group" and "continuous threats" jumped out at her. She was being recruited to babysit a bunch of pop stars? No way...this is what Dan considered an important job?
She'd once swore that she'd only return to her previous line of work if the President himself called on her. Since that wasn't very likely...she'd never intended to return to it. Certainly not for some ego-inflated celebrities. Not that politicians were any less egotistical...she almost smiled at that thought. Her dark eyes scanned each page as she flipped through the stapled packet.
"Kevin Scott Richardson...age 27; Howard Dwaine Dorough...age 26; Brian Thomas Littrell...age 24; Alexander James McLean...age 21; Nickolas Gene Carter...age 19."
All men...wonderful. There was nothing worse than a bunch of egotistical male celebrities. They'd automatically assume that they didn't need help...especially not from a woman. She already needed an Alka-Seltzer. It was a road she'd traveled down many times before. Men often resented having their lives placed in a woman's care. Her eyes stopped on the last page. A partner? She was to have a partner? Dan knew better. Parker worked alone. Suddenly a thought occurred to her as she read through the other woman's credentials. Why not pass it off on her? Dan had assumedly already spoken with her. She was trained with a gun, as well as a litany of other things. It didn't sound like a very hard job. Maybe this other woman would want to handle it by herself anyway.
Parker had learned that working with a partner was like suicide. Two people often stepped on each other's toes...especially with Parker. She had a take-charge attitude...she liked the hands on work. She didn't need someone upstaging her in dangerous situations. She'd be lying if she said that the job didn't intrigue her. The prospect of protecting someone again thrilled her. It was her level of expertise...yet, the nagging feeling that had followed her around for over a year was still there. She'd failed once...she couldn't afford to fail again. Dan had faith in her...and her old friend needed this favor. She couldn't say no.
She read over the other woman's credentials again. This might not be so bad after all. She picked up the phone and dialed the number for Delta airlines.
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