CHAPTER 10
Havana walked up the steps, forcing a confidence into her posture that she wished would seep into her spirit. Inside the building, she pushed the button for Dave Sharlet’s floor. Even from inside the elevator, the differences between her home and Dr. Sharlet’s were apparent. His elevator served sleek city apartments housing successful professionals. The wood was burnished, the handrails polished. Nothing like the rickety elevator that served her building. She thought back. It was just a few days ago that she and Karen were trapped in there together.
Karen had asked, “How’s the new route?” standing there in her new
uniform, as flawless as her sleek up-do and porcelain skin.
Still, she had brushed imaginary lint from the hem of her jacket. It was as if she was trying to get Havana to notice the uniform she was issued when she got the promotion to the international route.
“It’s great. I’m loving it. If I had known how much I’d like it, I would have requested it a long time ago. Seattle’s much more cosmopolitan than I remembered. And Tampa gives me a nice chance to soak up some sun.” Havana hated Seattle, with its airport filled with
pasty tech industry middle managers making their pilgrimage to Microsoft. And she couldn’t bear the stifling humidity of Tampa in the seconds from the airport to the cab and the cab to her hotel.
“You’re lucky. I barely get six hours to myself in Paris before I have to head back to the States. A city the size of Paris, that’s barely enough time to decide what to do.”
Havana had seethed. She should have that route. She was the senior flight attendant.
The elevator lurched, then stopped. The floor skewed almost imperceptibly to the rear. Havana felt unsteady. Karen punched the button for their floor. Nothing happened. She
punched the door-open button, then the door-close. Still nothing.
“Well, that’s rich. We’re stuck,” she said. Havana reached in front of Karen and pushed every button on the panel. They all lit up, but the elevator didn’t move. She hit the emergency alarm button. Maybe somewhere in the airport an alarm was sounding, but she didn’t hear anything. Both women pulled out their cell phones, but there was no
signal in the bowels of the airport.
“We’re going to have to figure out a way out of here.” Karen said.
She’s not going to boss me around. She might have stolen that promotion, but I’m still senior here. Havana looked at Karen’s shoes. She wore four-inch stiletto heels that didn’t meet regulations.
“Give me one of your shoes. I’ll try to pry the door open with the heel.”
“Like hell you will. Use your own shoe. These are $400 shoes.”
Havana looked down at her own pumps, with their broad, sensible inch-and-a-half heels.
“You know these won’t work. Give it up, Karen.”
“There must be something else we can use.” Karen’s eyes traveled around the small, sparse cab. “How about the handrail supports? Do you have a screwdriver?”
Havana’s heart was starting to race. She imagined that the cab was sealed tight, and that she and Karen would be gasping for air before long.
“Just give me the shoe. You didn’t have any trouble taking them off to fuck Tom for the job. What’s your problem now?”
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Chapter Nine
He wanted to see her. He was so happy she had called. He said he had feared that she would not. His voice was breathy and deep. Each time he spoke her name she closed her eyes and held her breath. She knew It was right that she had called. She had made the right choice.
But then he said it was a bad time. He had a case, he said. As soon as the patient was stable, he would be called to operate. It could be minutes. It could be two days.
A voice in Havana's head told her she should end the call there, wrap it up, say goodbye. No daughter of Emilio Victoria could fall for such an unlikely story. But Havana stayed on the line.
He said he was in his apartment half a block from the hospital. He couldn't ask her to come and wait with him. “It's too much to ask,” he said, “but....”
And she said she would. She hung up. She made a point of not thinking while she changed her clothes, grabbed her bag, and went down to hail a cab.
She told the driver where to take her. The address was reassuring to her. It was a good neighborhood. It was half a block from the hospital, just as he'd said. She sat back in her seat. She inhaled and exhaled. Inhaled and exhaled. But gradually a new worry came over her. She began to feel that the cab was being followed.
Her father had taught her how to spot a tail. "It's never the car directly behind," he'd said. That and, "Look for the lane changer." There were certain kinds of cars, too. Cars that were unobtrusive, like the gray sedan that made the same left the cab made at the corner of Wilson and Lawrence. Then a Cadillac made the turn, too.
I must be nervous, Havana thought. I think every car in Chicago is following me.
Even so, she changed her destination with the driver. She told him to pull up to one of the side entrances at Water Tower Place. When she left the cab, she raced through the mall to the taxi stand on the opposite side. She gave her new driver Dave Sharlet's address.
As the cab pulled up in front of his building, she had already tallied the fare plus the tip in her mind. She handed the driver the exact amount she owed. Thank you. No change. Putting her wallet back in her purse, she double checked that she had everything she might need. Yes. She had condoms. And she had a gun.
But then he said it was a bad time. He had a case, he said. As soon as the patient was stable, he would be called to operate. It could be minutes. It could be two days.
A voice in Havana's head told her she should end the call there, wrap it up, say goodbye. No daughter of Emilio Victoria could fall for such an unlikely story. But Havana stayed on the line.
He said he was in his apartment half a block from the hospital. He couldn't ask her to come and wait with him. “It's too much to ask,” he said, “but....”
And she said she would. She hung up. She made a point of not thinking while she changed her clothes, grabbed her bag, and went down to hail a cab.
She told the driver where to take her. The address was reassuring to her. It was a good neighborhood. It was half a block from the hospital, just as he'd said. She sat back in her seat. She inhaled and exhaled. Inhaled and exhaled. But gradually a new worry came over her. She began to feel that the cab was being followed.
Her father had taught her how to spot a tail. "It's never the car directly behind," he'd said. That and, "Look for the lane changer." There were certain kinds of cars, too. Cars that were unobtrusive, like the gray sedan that made the same left the cab made at the corner of Wilson and Lawrence. Then a Cadillac made the turn, too.
I must be nervous, Havana thought. I think every car in Chicago is following me.
Even so, she changed her destination with the driver. She told him to pull up to one of the side entrances at Water Tower Place. When she left the cab, she raced through the mall to the taxi stand on the opposite side. She gave her new driver Dave Sharlet's address.
As the cab pulled up in front of his building, she had already tallied the fare plus the tip in her mind. She handed the driver the exact amount she owed. Thank you. No change. Putting her wallet back in her purse, she double checked that she had everything she might need. Yes. She had condoms. And she had a gun.
Chapter Eight
Hey Havana! Psss psss . Havana is scared that she can’t hear Dr, Sharlet´s voice. Right now, both are in a small dark room. The guards are just outside the doors, and hear a little noise. They shout at them to be quiet.
Havana shhhh come close to me. Dr. Scarlet is almost whispering to Havana.
Havana’s body is shivering; she can’t control this action because she doesn’t know what is happening. She is so scared that she doesn’t know if she can trust this handsome Doctor with blue eyes. However, she cautiously gets close to him.
Havana, please trust me and don’t worry. I know where we are. You have to do exactly what I’m going to tell you, but first, try to relax; you can’t help being in this state. Dr. Sharlet takes Havana’s hands and he looks into her eyes. Havana starts feeling some amazing release in her body. The warm touch in her hand transfers her to an amazing love state that for a moment she forgot herself. Both are looking into each other´s eyes in the darkness. They just can see the light coming from their eyes.
Havana, ¨ listen to me, we have to get to the other corner of the room. In that corner, there is a little door which can help us get out from here. Try to be quiet as much as you can. If you see they´ve caught us, just run. When you open the door, you are going to see a long corridor. You have to run as fast as you can. At the end of the corridor, you’ll find another door. This door is an elevator which is going to take us to another place. Never look back. Just go forward. Don’t worry. I’ll be behind of you all the time. Trust me.
Havana listens to him carefully. She is afraid to mess up everything but at the same time she feels full of confidence because Dr. Sharlet is with her.
Everything seems perfect but when she is on the other side opening the door, one of the guards reacts and shouts at her. STOP there!!! Havana remembers all the instructions: open the door and run as fast as she can. She feels that she can’t get to the other side. She feels her legs heavy and weak. She tries but something is wrong. She wants to look back but her doctor told her not to. Finally, she gets the elevator’s door, opens it, gets in and when she looks for her Doctor, she also can see that one guard is running behind him with a gun in her hand pointing at him.
Run faster, run! He is behind of you, he wants to KiLL … at that moment a big noise stops her.
Havana wakes up sweating with her heart pumping. She was having a terrible nightmare. She is confused. It is the third dream that she’s had with her doctor. She thinks she is going crazy. Her dreams are continuous and she doesn’t know the meaning.
Havana has decided to make a choice. She can’t live with these crazy emotions. She needs to do something. She makes herself strong; she looks for the Doctor’s card. This is the moment, to either have him forever or forget him forever. I’m going to call him. If he wants to see me he will do whatever he can in order to see me, if he hesitates or his voice is cold this means it is the end. I’m tired and don’t want to get crazy for someone who is indifferent to me and makes me to wait.
Havana shhhh come close to me. Dr. Scarlet is almost whispering to Havana.
Havana’s body is shivering; she can’t control this action because she doesn’t know what is happening. She is so scared that she doesn’t know if she can trust this handsome Doctor with blue eyes. However, she cautiously gets close to him.
Havana, please trust me and don’t worry. I know where we are. You have to do exactly what I’m going to tell you, but first, try to relax; you can’t help being in this state. Dr. Sharlet takes Havana’s hands and he looks into her eyes. Havana starts feeling some amazing release in her body. The warm touch in her hand transfers her to an amazing love state that for a moment she forgot herself. Both are looking into each other´s eyes in the darkness. They just can see the light coming from their eyes.
Havana, ¨ listen to me, we have to get to the other corner of the room. In that corner, there is a little door which can help us get out from here. Try to be quiet as much as you can. If you see they´ve caught us, just run. When you open the door, you are going to see a long corridor. You have to run as fast as you can. At the end of the corridor, you’ll find another door. This door is an elevator which is going to take us to another place. Never look back. Just go forward. Don’t worry. I’ll be behind of you all the time. Trust me.
Havana listens to him carefully. She is afraid to mess up everything but at the same time she feels full of confidence because Dr. Sharlet is with her.
Everything seems perfect but when she is on the other side opening the door, one of the guards reacts and shouts at her. STOP there!!! Havana remembers all the instructions: open the door and run as fast as she can. She feels that she can’t get to the other side. She feels her legs heavy and weak. She tries but something is wrong. She wants to look back but her doctor told her not to. Finally, she gets the elevator’s door, opens it, gets in and when she looks for her Doctor, she also can see that one guard is running behind him with a gun in her hand pointing at him.
Run faster, run! He is behind of you, he wants to KiLL … at that moment a big noise stops her.
Havana wakes up sweating with her heart pumping. She was having a terrible nightmare. She is confused. It is the third dream that she’s had with her doctor. She thinks she is going crazy. Her dreams are continuous and she doesn’t know the meaning.
Havana has decided to make a choice. She can’t live with these crazy emotions. She needs to do something. She makes herself strong; she looks for the Doctor’s card. This is the moment, to either have him forever or forget him forever. I’m going to call him. If he wants to see me he will do whatever he can in order to see me, if he hesitates or his voice is cold this means it is the end. I’m tired and don’t want to get crazy for someone who is indifferent to me and makes me to wait.
Chapter Seven
Leonardo gestured for two men standing in the shadows to move forward. One grabbed Havana and the other grabbed Dr. Sharlet and began to shove them up a dark driveway lined with tall evergreen trees.
“Put the blindfolds on them before you go any further!” shouted Leonardo. “We don’t want them to identify the house.”
At least, they’re not going to kill us thought Havana. She heard Dave ask, “Why are we here?”
“We’re the ones who will ask the questions, Dr. Sharlet. Better keep your big mouth shut,” Leonardo snarled.
Havana heard the clanking of the garage door as it opened and she and Dave stumbled through on to the cement floor.
“Over here,” Leonardo shouted to the men who pushed them through another door and then down a flight of stairs to the basement.
Havana stumbled on the stairs and almost fell down, but her guard grabbed her in time. “”Steady, Miss,” he said with a slight drawl. Startled, Havana realized that she knew that voice, but who was it?
Leonardo interrupted her thoughts when he said, “Make no mistakes, doctor, or Havana here and you will both pay the price.”
“Put the blindfolds on them before you go any further!” shouted Leonardo. “We don’t want them to identify the house.”
At least, they’re not going to kill us thought Havana. She heard Dave ask, “Why are we here?”
“We’re the ones who will ask the questions, Dr. Sharlet. Better keep your big mouth shut,” Leonardo snarled.
Havana heard the clanking of the garage door as it opened and she and Dave stumbled through on to the cement floor.
“Over here,” Leonardo shouted to the men who pushed them through another door and then down a flight of stairs to the basement.
Havana stumbled on the stairs and almost fell down, but her guard grabbed her in time. “”Steady, Miss,” he said with a slight drawl. Startled, Havana realized that she knew that voice, but who was it?
Leonardo interrupted her thoughts when he said, “Make no mistakes, doctor, or Havana here and you will both pay the price.”
Thursday, June 17, 2010
Chapter Six
After receiving her “instructions” Havana quickly wiggled out of her flight uniform, tossed her holey nylons into the trash, and found a pair of jeans and her least-dirty t-shirt from the laundry pile. Now in her sensible running shoes which she hoped she wouldn’t have to use for their intended purpose, she was treading carefully and quietly down the sidewalk, becoming more and more dimly lit as she approached the next intersection.
When Havana reached West Harrison Street, she turned right and continued walking toward her destination. The address couldn’t be found on Mapquest, so she had to settle for the next nearest business: Monty’s Quik Stop and Checkcashers. Once the bright yellow sign came into view she stashed the printout in her purse. She was a little relieved to tell Frank that she had an emergency and couldn’t go out, but a lot more hesitant about instructing him to contact her sister if he didn’t hear back from Havana in over two hours. She knew she was letting herself into a trap, and of course contacting the police would put her father in jeopardy, but Frank was a friend of her father’s and would probably know what to do. And whoever possessed the voice on the other end of the phone would surely kill her father if she didn’t comply with his wishes.
She rang the bell but never crossed the threshold of number 1504, for a bag fell around her and plunged her into complete darkness, and the itchy canvas rubbed at her bare arms like sandpaper as she was scooped up and thrust into the back of a vehicle, a van from the sound of the slamming double doors. She wanted to break out of the cocoon but the bag had been tied to her and only her feet were exposed. If only they had eyes; she could note where she was being taken, though she guessed that the back of the van was windowless. To make matters worse, her sneakers were being pulled off.
“Hey!”
“Sorry, miss. Gotta do it.”
“Can you let me out of this bag? I can’t breathe.”
“Sorry, miss,” she heard a gruff but familiar voice say.
“Leonardo?” she said.
“Sorry, you’ve got the wrong guy.”
You’re full of shit, she wanted to tell him. She recognized one of her
father’s henchmen. But what was he doing on the other side? Her skin crawled from the itchiness of the bag, the bare feet that anyone could tickle, and she couldn’t do a thing about it. Why didn’t she bring Frank with her? Or send someone else. She should have thought this through, come up with a strategy. But now it was like she was in a plane with total hydraulic failure, in free fall.
The van swerved sharply and crossed over a bump as if it were entering a driveway, and the ignition was cut.
“Okay, get out, both of you.”
The rope was loosened and the bag lifted. So it was Leonardo, the traitor, suit too tight, sauce stains on his collar as usual. But there was also another man, ordinary in his thinning brown hair and medium build, but why did he look familiar?
It was the real Dr. Dave Sharlet, in blue scrubs, wet from the perspiration of captivity. He looked as if he had been plucked from the operating room.
“Dr. Sharlet?” Havana whispered.
“Yes indeed,” said Leonardo. “And he’ll be helping us in more ways than one.”
When Havana reached West Harrison Street, she turned right and continued walking toward her destination. The address couldn’t be found on Mapquest, so she had to settle for the next nearest business: Monty’s Quik Stop and Checkcashers. Once the bright yellow sign came into view she stashed the printout in her purse. She was a little relieved to tell Frank that she had an emergency and couldn’t go out, but a lot more hesitant about instructing him to contact her sister if he didn’t hear back from Havana in over two hours. She knew she was letting herself into a trap, and of course contacting the police would put her father in jeopardy, but Frank was a friend of her father’s and would probably know what to do. And whoever possessed the voice on the other end of the phone would surely kill her father if she didn’t comply with his wishes.
She rang the bell but never crossed the threshold of number 1504, for a bag fell around her and plunged her into complete darkness, and the itchy canvas rubbed at her bare arms like sandpaper as she was scooped up and thrust into the back of a vehicle, a van from the sound of the slamming double doors. She wanted to break out of the cocoon but the bag had been tied to her and only her feet were exposed. If only they had eyes; she could note where she was being taken, though she guessed that the back of the van was windowless. To make matters worse, her sneakers were being pulled off.
“Hey!”
“Sorry, miss. Gotta do it.”
“Can you let me out of this bag? I can’t breathe.”
“Sorry, miss,” she heard a gruff but familiar voice say.
“Leonardo?” she said.
“Sorry, you’ve got the wrong guy.”
You’re full of shit, she wanted to tell him. She recognized one of her
father’s henchmen. But what was he doing on the other side? Her skin crawled from the itchiness of the bag, the bare feet that anyone could tickle, and she couldn’t do a thing about it. Why didn’t she bring Frank with her? Or send someone else. She should have thought this through, come up with a strategy. But now it was like she was in a plane with total hydraulic failure, in free fall.
The van swerved sharply and crossed over a bump as if it were entering a driveway, and the ignition was cut.
“Okay, get out, both of you.”
The rope was loosened and the bag lifted. So it was Leonardo, the traitor, suit too tight, sauce stains on his collar as usual. But there was also another man, ordinary in his thinning brown hair and medium build, but why did he look familiar?
It was the real Dr. Dave Sharlet, in blue scrubs, wet from the perspiration of captivity. He looked as if he had been plucked from the operating room.
“Dr. Sharlet?” Havana whispered.
“Yes indeed,” said Leonardo. “And he’ll be helping us in more ways than one.”
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Chapter Five (Alternate)
Special agents Wright and Johnson thanked Tom and walked out of the room. They kept silent until they were inside their car leaving the airport. Wright steered the Buick down the parking garage’s spiraling exit ramp.
“Why would she cover for him?” Johnson asked his partner.
“I’m not sure it’s him she’s covering for. I think she’s covering for her old man.” Wright looked over to see a glimmer of understanding flash across the younger man’s face. Finally. “He’s the second in command in the mob here, and he’s linked to families in New York and New Jersey.”
“What’s the connection between her old man and the doctor?”
“I’m not sure he even is a doctor. My gut tells me his trip was all an act designed so he could meet Havana. She’s not safe, and if she’s not going to be truthful with us it’s going to be hard to protect her.”
***
Havana tossed her pumps in the El station trash bin and walked the three blocks to her condo in her stocking feet. Inside, she locked the door behind her, wheeled her suitcase up against the wall, and opened a bottle of red wine. With the first sip she started to relax, and once half the glass was empty she felt the day’s stress dissipate. She took the glass with her to her bedroom, where she called her father. There, she had an old-school corded phone installed in the bedroom. She used it to call him when she was afraid it wasn’t safe to use the cell phone.
“Hi honey. I’m glad you called back. I could tell something was clicking between you and Frank.”
Havana shuddered. She had forgotten about her father’s message. Now she could feel Frank’s creepy eyes crawling along her skin.
“This isn’t about Frank, Dad. I met a guy on a flight today.”
“You must really like him if you’re calling me already.”
“Dad, stop. Afterwards, there were FBI agents at the airport. They showed me a bunch of photos, and one was him. They asked if I knew him.”
He paused. “What did you say?”
“I said I didn’t know any of them.” She knew better than to ask her father who the doctor was, or what was going on.
“Good girl. Stay right where you are. Don’t go anywhere until you hear back from me.”
Havana heard a click, and the line went dead. “Dad? Dad, are you there?” Land lines didn’t drop calls.
“Daddy can’t help you now,” a male voice said.
“Why would she cover for him?” Johnson asked his partner.
“I’m not sure it’s him she’s covering for. I think she’s covering for her old man.” Wright looked over to see a glimmer of understanding flash across the younger man’s face. Finally. “He’s the second in command in the mob here, and he’s linked to families in New York and New Jersey.”
“What’s the connection between her old man and the doctor?”
“I’m not sure he even is a doctor. My gut tells me his trip was all an act designed so he could meet Havana. She’s not safe, and if she’s not going to be truthful with us it’s going to be hard to protect her.”
***
Havana tossed her pumps in the El station trash bin and walked the three blocks to her condo in her stocking feet. Inside, she locked the door behind her, wheeled her suitcase up against the wall, and opened a bottle of red wine. With the first sip she started to relax, and once half the glass was empty she felt the day’s stress dissipate. She took the glass with her to her bedroom, where she called her father. There, she had an old-school corded phone installed in the bedroom. She used it to call him when she was afraid it wasn’t safe to use the cell phone.
“Hi honey. I’m glad you called back. I could tell something was clicking between you and Frank.”
Havana shuddered. She had forgotten about her father’s message. Now she could feel Frank’s creepy eyes crawling along her skin.
“This isn’t about Frank, Dad. I met a guy on a flight today.”
“You must really like him if you’re calling me already.”
“Dad, stop. Afterwards, there were FBI agents at the airport. They showed me a bunch of photos, and one was him. They asked if I knew him.”
He paused. “What did you say?”
“I said I didn’t know any of them.” She knew better than to ask her father who the doctor was, or what was going on.
“Good girl. Stay right where you are. Don’t go anywhere until you hear back from me.”
Havana heard a click, and the line went dead. “Dad? Dad, are you there?” Land lines didn’t drop calls.
“Daddy can’t help you now,” a male voice said.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Chapter Five
She hadn’t heard from Dr. Dave Sharlet or the FBI in over a week. She had never his call in hopes he would want to see her so badly that he would call again. That never happened. She was beginning to think that maybe she had made it all up in her head. Havana looked in the mirror and saw a cute girl not a gorgeous one staring back at her. “Why did I ever think that a man who looked like Dr. Dave would actually want to go out with me,” she thought to herself.
Regardless of the fact that she was about to go on a date with Frank Agrela, she still felt let down by Dr. Dave Sharlet and a tad bit uncomfortable for her date. Every time she saw him at one of her father’s events he would wink at her and his hands some how always ended grazing her ass. She could feel his eyes looking her up and down picturing her naked. Her father had a very different view of Frank Agrela.
To Havana’s father Frank Agrela was a very wealthy successful man who could do much better than his daughter. He thought Havana should be thanking her lucky stars that Frank was interested in her. Havana wanted to tell her father what a sleaze Frank Agrela was but her father never would have believed her. That is how she got into this whole awful situation to begin with.
The doorbell rang making Havana’s stomach flip over. She had been dreading this night all week. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes before opening the door.
“Havana,” Frank said taking a step closer to her.
She hadn’t seen Frank when she opened the door instead she had seen Dr. Dave, dangerous Dr. Dave. Her eyes had deceived her and she was quickly brought back to reality when she felt Frank’s puffy wet lips on her cheek.
“Let me just grab my bag and then we can go,” she said backing away from him.
She couldn’t help but wonder why she had pictured Dr. Dave at her door. Ever since the FBI had showed her that mug shot of him she had become even more intrigued. What had such a handsome and caring man done to get mixed up with the FBI?
Forgetting that Frank was waiting for her she sat down in front of her laptop and googled “Dave Sharlet”. Up popped a million results. She began to weed through them
when her eyes landed on
Share Family Practice
Dr. David Sharlet and his friendly staff are always happy to treat every patient with the kindness, compassion and professionalism they deserve. ...
www.drdavidsharlet.com/
Without hesitation she clicked on the link. A large photo came up of a man in a doctor’s coat next to a little kid. She smiled to herself picturing Dr. Dave Sharlet helping kids. She noticed a caption at the bottom of the photo and began to read, “Dr. David Sharlet treats each child as if they were his own,”
That wasn’t her Dr. Dave Sharlet. Her Dave had amazing piercing blue eyes not big round brown eyes, and her Dr. Dave had dark brown hair not blonde. What was going on? She was just about to click on the ABOUT link when Frank yelled her name.
“Crap,” she mumbled to herself quickly shutting down her laptop.“Coming,”
She grabbed her bag and headed out for a night of disaster.
Regardless of the fact that she was about to go on a date with Frank Agrela, she still felt let down by Dr. Dave Sharlet and a tad bit uncomfortable for her date. Every time she saw him at one of her father’s events he would wink at her and his hands some how always ended grazing her ass. She could feel his eyes looking her up and down picturing her naked. Her father had a very different view of Frank Agrela.
To Havana’s father Frank Agrela was a very wealthy successful man who could do much better than his daughter. He thought Havana should be thanking her lucky stars that Frank was interested in her. Havana wanted to tell her father what a sleaze Frank Agrela was but her father never would have believed her. That is how she got into this whole awful situation to begin with.
The doorbell rang making Havana’s stomach flip over. She had been dreading this night all week. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes before opening the door.
“Havana,” Frank said taking a step closer to her.
She hadn’t seen Frank when she opened the door instead she had seen Dr. Dave, dangerous Dr. Dave. Her eyes had deceived her and she was quickly brought back to reality when she felt Frank’s puffy wet lips on her cheek.
“Let me just grab my bag and then we can go,” she said backing away from him.
She couldn’t help but wonder why she had pictured Dr. Dave at her door. Ever since the FBI had showed her that mug shot of him she had become even more intrigued. What had such a handsome and caring man done to get mixed up with the FBI?
Forgetting that Frank was waiting for her she sat down in front of her laptop and googled “Dave Sharlet”. Up popped a million results. She began to weed through them
when her eyes landed on
Share Family Practice
Dr. David Sharlet and his friendly staff are always happy to treat every patient with the kindness, compassion and professionalism they deserve. ...
www.drdavidsharlet.com/
Without hesitation she clicked on the link. A large photo came up of a man in a doctor’s coat next to a little kid. She smiled to herself picturing Dr. Dave Sharlet helping kids. She noticed a caption at the bottom of the photo and began to read, “Dr. David Sharlet treats each child as if they were his own,”
That wasn’t her Dr. Dave Sharlet. Her Dave had amazing piercing blue eyes not big round brown eyes, and her Dr. Dave had dark brown hair not blonde. What was going on? She was just about to click on the ABOUT link when Frank yelled her name.
“Crap,” she mumbled to herself quickly shutting down her laptop.“Coming,”
She grabbed her bag and headed out for a night of disaster.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Chapter Four
Havana didn't wait for the flight attendant to welcome the passengers to Chicago and announce that they were once again permitted to use their cell phones. As soon as the plane landed, she powered hers on. She had three messages.
The first was from her father. He had called to invite her to a get together at the home of one of his associates from what he called the business. “We'll all have a good time,” he said. “Frank Agrela will be there.” Before he hung up, he suggested that she might wear something nice.
Whenever Havana arrived at a function where Frank Agrela might show up, her father criticized her clothes. “You have nice dresses,” he'd say. “Did you have to wear that?”
Frank Agrela didn't seem to mind her choices. Often when Havana looked Frank's way, she'd find him inspecting her clothing. He didn't turn away when she caught him, but let his eyes linger on every button or snap, and slide up and down her zipper. Then he'd look her in the face and wait for her reaction.
Her reaction now was to press delete and move on to the next message.
It was from Dr. Dave Sharlet. His voice was deep and he spoke slowly. Havana thought he might have just woken up when he called her. Her head lowered down toward her shoulder, like she was lying on the pillow beside him. He said that he had good news for her about their patient. “Please give me a call,” he said. After a pause, he added, “I had forgotten just how beautiful your voice is. I loved listening to your outgoing message.”
Havana listened to this message a second time and saved it before she went on to her last message. It was Tom. He wanted her to stop by to see him when she was signing out.
What did Tom want? Havana pulled her suitcase behind her onto the moving walkway and passed one after another of the travelers who idled as the conveyor carried them along. Maybe Tom had come up with an opportunity for her to fly international after all.
She imagined a phone conversation with the doctor. Dave, she would call him. Hello, Dave. He would want to see her. When could they be together? Soon he hoped? And where?
On Tuesday I'll be in Paris, she imagined herself saying. Or Rome? Hong Kong on Thursday. On Thursday, Dave, I'll be in Hong Kong.
Havana realized she was moving her lips as she daydreamed the details of the phone call. She gave a quick look around and saw that she had been seen by a young couple leaving a coffee counter. They grinned. The young woman raised her cup in a playful toast.
As soon as Havana swiped her badge and walked through the glass doors at crew scheduling, she saw Tom waiting for her. They walked in the direction of his office, but then veered off toward a conference room.
“Some people are waiting to see you,” he said.
A man in a gray suit stood up from the conference table when Havana entered the room. A second man turned from the window to face her. They introduced themselves as Special Agent Johnson and Special Agent Wright. They were from the FBI.
The business, Havana thought. She sensed danger for her father. She took a cordial, even tone with the men. Before she had learned two-times-two or how to write in cursive, her father had taught her the art of not being flustered and the importance, above all, of protecting the family. It wasn't until she was older that she understood why.
She took a seat with Special Agent Johnson. Special Agent Wright remained standing.
The men started out by making what Havana took to be small talk, asking about her flight, New York, LA, the short stop in Newark. Then Special Agent Wright laid six photographs out on the table in front of her. Did Havana recognize any of these men?
She saw so many people each day, she said. It was the nature of her job. She couldn't be sure. The agents watched her closely. No, she said finally. She couldn't say she'd ever seen any of them before.
Riding home on the elevated train, Havana kept one hand on her suitcase and the other on the overhead bar. She steadied herself as she was rocked by the memory of the fourth photograph Special Agent Wright had laid out on the table in front of her. It was enlarged from a mug shot. The man's dark hair was unkempt and he needed a shave. The painted lines behind his head indicated that he was just over six foot two. The set of his lower lip and the hard lines around his mouth gave Havana the impression of menace and maybe even cruelty. But mostly, she remembered the eyes. Inwardly, she had been chilled by the coldness of those eyes. She hoped the FBI men hadn't noticed any outward reaction as she found herself once again staring into the blue eyes of Dr. Dave Sharlet.
The first was from her father. He had called to invite her to a get together at the home of one of his associates from what he called the business. “We'll all have a good time,” he said. “Frank Agrela will be there.” Before he hung up, he suggested that she might wear something nice.
Whenever Havana arrived at a function where Frank Agrela might show up, her father criticized her clothes. “You have nice dresses,” he'd say. “Did you have to wear that?”
Frank Agrela didn't seem to mind her choices. Often when Havana looked Frank's way, she'd find him inspecting her clothing. He didn't turn away when she caught him, but let his eyes linger on every button or snap, and slide up and down her zipper. Then he'd look her in the face and wait for her reaction.
Her reaction now was to press delete and move on to the next message.
It was from Dr. Dave Sharlet. His voice was deep and he spoke slowly. Havana thought he might have just woken up when he called her. Her head lowered down toward her shoulder, like she was lying on the pillow beside him. He said that he had good news for her about their patient. “Please give me a call,” he said. After a pause, he added, “I had forgotten just how beautiful your voice is. I loved listening to your outgoing message.”
Havana listened to this message a second time and saved it before she went on to her last message. It was Tom. He wanted her to stop by to see him when she was signing out.
What did Tom want? Havana pulled her suitcase behind her onto the moving walkway and passed one after another of the travelers who idled as the conveyor carried them along. Maybe Tom had come up with an opportunity for her to fly international after all.
She imagined a phone conversation with the doctor. Dave, she would call him. Hello, Dave. He would want to see her. When could they be together? Soon he hoped? And where?
On Tuesday I'll be in Paris, she imagined herself saying. Or Rome? Hong Kong on Thursday. On Thursday, Dave, I'll be in Hong Kong.
Havana realized she was moving her lips as she daydreamed the details of the phone call. She gave a quick look around and saw that she had been seen by a young couple leaving a coffee counter. They grinned. The young woman raised her cup in a playful toast.
As soon as Havana swiped her badge and walked through the glass doors at crew scheduling, she saw Tom waiting for her. They walked in the direction of his office, but then veered off toward a conference room.
“Some people are waiting to see you,” he said.
A man in a gray suit stood up from the conference table when Havana entered the room. A second man turned from the window to face her. They introduced themselves as Special Agent Johnson and Special Agent Wright. They were from the FBI.
The business, Havana thought. She sensed danger for her father. She took a cordial, even tone with the men. Before she had learned two-times-two or how to write in cursive, her father had taught her the art of not being flustered and the importance, above all, of protecting the family. It wasn't until she was older that she understood why.
She took a seat with Special Agent Johnson. Special Agent Wright remained standing.
The men started out by making what Havana took to be small talk, asking about her flight, New York, LA, the short stop in Newark. Then Special Agent Wright laid six photographs out on the table in front of her. Did Havana recognize any of these men?
She saw so many people each day, she said. It was the nature of her job. She couldn't be sure. The agents watched her closely. No, she said finally. She couldn't say she'd ever seen any of them before.
Riding home on the elevated train, Havana kept one hand on her suitcase and the other on the overhead bar. She steadied herself as she was rocked by the memory of the fourth photograph Special Agent Wright had laid out on the table in front of her. It was enlarged from a mug shot. The man's dark hair was unkempt and he needed a shave. The painted lines behind his head indicated that he was just over six foot two. The set of his lower lip and the hard lines around his mouth gave Havana the impression of menace and maybe even cruelty. But mostly, she remembered the eyes. Inwardly, she had been chilled by the coldness of those eyes. She hoped the FBI men hadn't noticed any outward reaction as she found herself once again staring into the blue eyes of Dr. Dave Sharlet.
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Chapter Three
She looks at his eyes again and she feels electricity through whole her body. She tries to hide this emotion because she thinks that every man always acts in the same way and they never go further.
The doctor perceives Havana’s doubts. He replied smiling at her “Believe me I would love to have a dinner with you if you accept my invitation, this is my information card. Call me when you get around New York again. If it is not problem for you can I get your cell phone number? I would like to be in touch with you. I also travel frequently and who knows maybe we can match our destination. Instead of having a dinner in New York, it could be in different place. Both laugh at the same time.
He looks at Havana’s eyes , he take her hand one more time but this time he hold her hand with a soft and sweet caress and he kisses her hand softly. Pierre who was right behind them, he feels a little bit uncomfortable after watching the romantic scene. He moves away to give them privacy. Havana gets blush and her heart starts beating as ever before. She immediately knows that she wanted to take him right know without thinking. Her imagination starts working… She moves forward and she takes him and kisses him. However, she stops her mind and she replied: It was great to meet you and have the opportunity to help and give one more chance to live to your patient …she stops talking because he gave her a big and warm hug. They stay in this way for more than 2 minutes and he says see you soon.
He walks away while Havana stands close to Pierre. Does he real? Is it real everything that he makes me to feel? Oh my Gosh! I haven’t felt these emotions in my body since the first time I felt in love.
The doctor must stay with his patient. Havana and Pierre come back to the airplane. They board again to continue the travel…
The doctor perceives Havana’s doubts. He replied smiling at her “Believe me I would love to have a dinner with you if you accept my invitation, this is my information card. Call me when you get around New York again. If it is not problem for you can I get your cell phone number? I would like to be in touch with you. I also travel frequently and who knows maybe we can match our destination. Instead of having a dinner in New York, it could be in different place. Both laugh at the same time.
He looks at Havana’s eyes , he take her hand one more time but this time he hold her hand with a soft and sweet caress and he kisses her hand softly. Pierre who was right behind them, he feels a little bit uncomfortable after watching the romantic scene. He moves away to give them privacy. Havana gets blush and her heart starts beating as ever before. She immediately knows that she wanted to take him right know without thinking. Her imagination starts working… She moves forward and she takes him and kisses him. However, she stops her mind and she replied: It was great to meet you and have the opportunity to help and give one more chance to live to your patient …she stops talking because he gave her a big and warm hug. They stay in this way for more than 2 minutes and he says see you soon.
He walks away while Havana stands close to Pierre. Does he real? Is it real everything that he makes me to feel? Oh my Gosh! I haven’t felt these emotions in my body since the first time I felt in love.
The doctor must stay with his patient. Havana and Pierre come back to the airplane. They board again to continue the travel…
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Chapter Two
There were the usual early arrivals clustered around the gate when Havana arrived. Putting on her plastic smile and avoiding all eye contact, she maneuvered her bag around them as she hobbled toward the door leading to the gangway. The typical small group of early passengers generally consisted of those who were nervous about flying, people who had arrived early to upgrade their seats, or the elderly and disabled who needed some help as they boarded the plane. Havana plastered on her gracious, assuring smile as she tried to pass them. A well-dressed man broke from the group and blocked her progress.
“Sir,” Havana said as she avoided all eye contact with him. “I need to board the plane.” Out of the corner of her eye, she searched for a security guard.
“No problem,” the man said. She looked up and saw his blue eyes smiling at her as he extended his hand. “I just wanted to introduce myself as I will be traveling with my patient. My name is Dr. Dave Sharlet,” he continued. “I’ll fill you in more on the accommodations that my patient might need after we board.” He held on to Havana’s hand for just a beat too long.
Havana couldn’t stop herself from checking his hand as she let it go. No wedding ring. Perhaps he wasn’t menacing, just a little too overeager to introduce himself.
“Any problem here?” the security guard said as he approached them.
“No, Jack,” Havana said as she turned and accompanied him to the door. Then she slipped through the opening and headed down the gangway to the plane.
Trouble, she thought. She knew her unerring instinct for falling for the wrong man at the wrong time. She was a sucker for blue eyes, dark hair, and a slight degree of danger. Best to avoid him. Difficult to do during a redeye, but manageable. Focus, she reminded herself. Just focus on your career. Forget about the electricity that raced up your arm. Just your imagination.
“Over here, Miss,” Dr. Sharlet called just as Havana loosened her seatbelt after takeoff.
“Please, sir. Stay in your seat until the pilot turns off the “Fasten Your Seatbelt sign.”
“We need your defibrillator now,” he insisted and gestured towards his patient.
Havana kicked off her shoes as she raced to get the defibrillator from the back of the cabin. “Alert the captain that we have a medical emergency and ask for additional medical help,” she called back to Pierre, who was already on the phone to the captain.
The captain’s announcement was short, “We have a medical emergency on board. Is there a physician or nurse on the plane?”
Havana and Pierre cleared out the seats around the patient. Dr. Sharlet administered CPR as Havana held the defibrillator. No other medical personnel stepped forward. The patient began to breathe, but his heartbeat was irregular.
“Tell the captain we’ll have to land immediately and get this patient to a hospital,” Dr. Sharlet said. Holding the defibrillator in place, Havana nodded to Pierre who ran down the aisle to alert the captain.
As the plane rolled to a stop after landing at Newark Airport, Havana could see the ambulance waiting on the side of the runway. She stood by as the EMTs loaded the patient onto the gurney to remove him from the plane and take him to the hospital.
“Thanks for your help,” Dr. Sharlet said, shaking her hand as he left to follow his patient. “You’ve helped me give this man at least a chance of survival. That deserves a dinner the next time you’re in New York. I’ll find you somehow,” he promised.
“Sure, that’s what they all say,” Havana murmured to Pierre.
“Sir,” Havana said as she avoided all eye contact with him. “I need to board the plane.” Out of the corner of her eye, she searched for a security guard.
“No problem,” the man said. She looked up and saw his blue eyes smiling at her as he extended his hand. “I just wanted to introduce myself as I will be traveling with my patient. My name is Dr. Dave Sharlet,” he continued. “I’ll fill you in more on the accommodations that my patient might need after we board.” He held on to Havana’s hand for just a beat too long.
Havana couldn’t stop herself from checking his hand as she let it go. No wedding ring. Perhaps he wasn’t menacing, just a little too overeager to introduce himself.
“Any problem here?” the security guard said as he approached them.
“No, Jack,” Havana said as she turned and accompanied him to the door. Then she slipped through the opening and headed down the gangway to the plane.
Trouble, she thought. She knew her unerring instinct for falling for the wrong man at the wrong time. She was a sucker for blue eyes, dark hair, and a slight degree of danger. Best to avoid him. Difficult to do during a redeye, but manageable. Focus, she reminded herself. Just focus on your career. Forget about the electricity that raced up your arm. Just your imagination.
“Over here, Miss,” Dr. Sharlet called just as Havana loosened her seatbelt after takeoff.
“Please, sir. Stay in your seat until the pilot turns off the “Fasten Your Seatbelt sign.”
“We need your defibrillator now,” he insisted and gestured towards his patient.
Havana kicked off her shoes as she raced to get the defibrillator from the back of the cabin. “Alert the captain that we have a medical emergency and ask for additional medical help,” she called back to Pierre, who was already on the phone to the captain.
The captain’s announcement was short, “We have a medical emergency on board. Is there a physician or nurse on the plane?”
Havana and Pierre cleared out the seats around the patient. Dr. Sharlet administered CPR as Havana held the defibrillator. No other medical personnel stepped forward. The patient began to breathe, but his heartbeat was irregular.
“Tell the captain we’ll have to land immediately and get this patient to a hospital,” Dr. Sharlet said. Holding the defibrillator in place, Havana nodded to Pierre who ran down the aisle to alert the captain.
As the plane rolled to a stop after landing at Newark Airport, Havana could see the ambulance waiting on the side of the runway. She stood by as the EMTs loaded the patient onto the gurney to remove him from the plane and take him to the hospital.
“Thanks for your help,” Dr. Sharlet said, shaking her hand as he left to follow his patient. “You’ve helped me give this man at least a chance of survival. That deserves a dinner the next time you’re in New York. I’ll find you somehow,” he promised.
“Sure, that’s what they all say,” Havana murmured to Pierre.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Chapter One
Back to the old regimen: Dexedrine to stay awake, Ambien to wind down in her room at 10:00 am. At 9:00 she’d be heading the other way. New York LGA to Los Angeles LAX. When her week was over, she’d be shuttled back to O’Hare, as Chicago was her home base.
It was Havana Victoria’s first redeye in about three years, but not the one she had requested. She wouldn’t have minded the overnight flights—as long as the final destinations were cities like London, Rome, Berlin…So when a slot on the Paris route opened up, why did Tom, the transportation supervisor, give it to Janice? Did Janice speak fluent Spanish? Had Janice taken adult-ed. French classes?
This was the consolation prize: a bonus for three weeks of training a few new flight attendants. “Many on my staff would kill for this opportunity,” he said, but for Havana, it wasn’t about the money. Saving up for the 20% down on her condo was easy because she rarely had time to spend it any other way. She would barely have time to exchange her new pumps that had failed the stress test of her last flight.
She hobbled out of Tom’s office with questions unanswered. Who’d take her place on the LGA-O”Hare shuttle? Would she get to bump the temporary replacement after her training stint was over? Or did Tom have other ideas? The hardest part of working for this airline was not dealing with the passengers; fulfilling their wants and needs involved less and less strategy. She knew the optimal time to bring down the beverage cart so as to avoid too many special requests later, or how to avoid eye contact and appear too busy until she was more capable of assisting someone. She could even detect motion sickness about 15 minutes before it happened—she could see the change in a passenger’s eyes or pores.
What was more confusing to Havana was getting her own needs and wants met. It wasn’t as straightforward as a passenger’s asking for an extra pillow. There are plenty of pillows, yet a more limited number of international routes, and more attendants yearning to end their shifts in another world, one that gives those hours in a stuffy compartment more meaning and perspective. Plus she had to be careful what she asked for; sometimes with time a supervisor confuses a secondary want for a primary one.
Maybe next time. If Janice could get promoted, then maybe she’d be next. Even despite the disregard for seniority. She pulled her overnight bag into the ladies room, into a stall where she could fish out her pills, and pull down her nylons to bandage up her feet before continuing on to her gate.
It was Havana Victoria’s first redeye in about three years, but not the one she had requested. She wouldn’t have minded the overnight flights—as long as the final destinations were cities like London, Rome, Berlin…So when a slot on the Paris route opened up, why did Tom, the transportation supervisor, give it to Janice? Did Janice speak fluent Spanish? Had Janice taken adult-ed. French classes?
This was the consolation prize: a bonus for three weeks of training a few new flight attendants. “Many on my staff would kill for this opportunity,” he said, but for Havana, it wasn’t about the money. Saving up for the 20% down on her condo was easy because she rarely had time to spend it any other way. She would barely have time to exchange her new pumps that had failed the stress test of her last flight.
She hobbled out of Tom’s office with questions unanswered. Who’d take her place on the LGA-O”Hare shuttle? Would she get to bump the temporary replacement after her training stint was over? Or did Tom have other ideas? The hardest part of working for this airline was not dealing with the passengers; fulfilling their wants and needs involved less and less strategy. She knew the optimal time to bring down the beverage cart so as to avoid too many special requests later, or how to avoid eye contact and appear too busy until she was more capable of assisting someone. She could even detect motion sickness about 15 minutes before it happened—she could see the change in a passenger’s eyes or pores.
What was more confusing to Havana was getting her own needs and wants met. It wasn’t as straightforward as a passenger’s asking for an extra pillow. There are plenty of pillows, yet a more limited number of international routes, and more attendants yearning to end their shifts in another world, one that gives those hours in a stuffy compartment more meaning and perspective. Plus she had to be careful what she asked for; sometimes with time a supervisor confuses a secondary want for a primary one.
Maybe next time. If Janice could get promoted, then maybe she’d be next. Even despite the disregard for seniority. She pulled her overnight bag into the ladies room, into a stall where she could fish out her pills, and pull down her nylons to bandage up her feet before continuing on to her gate.
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