One Enchanted Evening

by Vanessa Richardson

Part I: The Meeting

A frown marred the beautiful African American woman's face. Her brown eyes were wide with fear. The plane had landed and the passengers were given the green light to disembark. She lingered behind. The stewardess was darting curious glances at her.

She swallowed hard trying to gain control over her emotions. For the third time she tried to rise up. Her body refusing to obey her command. What was wrong with her? Her mouth had suddenly gone dry and her hands were clammy. Absently she absently rubbed her on her tweed pleated skirt. She was suddenly paralyzed with fear. She couldn't escape the feeling that something was about to happen.

She looked out the window. There was a dark gray over cast to the sky. "Miss are you alright?" A voice asked in concern. Monica Perry turned at the question. It was the airplane stewardess. Fear held her voice captive. Closing her eyes briefly she nodded in the affirmative. She commanded herself to rise; thankfully her body finally obeyed. She retrieved her small purse smiled at the stewardess, began walking down the aircrafts' small aisle.

Monica slowly descended from the plane. She shivered. She likes to think it was from the chill in the air, but knew differently. She sensed there was someone in the crowd watching, waiting, and needing. He sensed her presence immediately, something within him stirred to life. She had arrived. He knew that she would it all just a matter of timing. He was a patient man by nature; this particular case tested his endurance to the max. She was beatific to look up. Her skin was the color of chocolate. Her hair in small neat braids falling down her back. She looked like an Egyptian princess. She was the one he knew this. She was too far away her had to get closer. He wanted to look into her eyes, without thought he moved toward his destiny.

The sensation was jarring; she tripped almost falling. In wide-eyed fear she looked around trying to understand what was going on. She was on foreign ground, maybe she just needed to get acclimated to her new environment.

She felt a heavy compunction to come to, London, England. It was almost like a compulsion really. Monica, knew she would have never made the trip to England if it weren't for her health scare. She was a workaholic, not a good thing. Workaholics are like addicts. You couldn't reach them unless they want you to.

She would put in 12 hours a day barely having time to eat. She lost a great deal of weight; and there were dark circles under her eyes.

Her friends were angry with her for breaking so many of their get together. The last straw was when she started having heart palpitations. She couldn't breath and was drenched with sweat. One day she fainted while dining with her parents.

One minute she was laughing and eating; the next she couldn't breathe. She woke in the hospital with the results that she had suffered from a panic attack and that her blood pressure high. That was it. She called her boss and requesting some days off.

The scare caused her to have a new lease on life. She rearranged her life style. Making a to do list. The first thing she would do was take a long over due vacation. The question was where? For days she pondered over the right place. The one night she dreamed she was in London, someone offered her one red rose. She couldn't see the person face it was too dark. She accepted the rose. She woke up with the dream heavily on her mind. For days she couldn't shake the strange dream. Finally she decided to just go to London. Her friends and family thought her decision strange. Some place sunny like Hawaii was their vacationing choices. She knew she had to go to London.

He witnessed her stumble and almost ran to her. He had to be patient. He was closer to her now. He could smell her perfume. It smelled like vanilla. His mouth was suddenly dry. His eyes soaked her presence in. She felt something behind her but was afraid to turn around. She knew if she did her life would be changed forever.

His voice came from behind Monica. It made her heart accelerate. "The wait has been too long. Know this. You don't have to be afraid of me," His voice was low and deep sending chills down her spine. She wasn't afraid. She was frightened; she refused to face her speaker's voice. From the corner of her eyes she saw an arm extending out.

It wasn't that mans arm that sent shivers coursing through her. It was the red single rose in his hand. Ignoring the rose she turned quickly. Her eyes widened in shock. She couldn't breath. She needed air. Sweat was quickly dotting her brows. She was having another panic attack. She looked at the stranger with wide- eyed fear, silently begging for help.

The last thing she remembered thinking was she made a big mistake by coming to London. He moved quickly, deftly caught her before she could hit the ground. She felt right in his embrace. He was accustoming to that type of reaction. It never fazed him before until now.

He walked purposely toward the air ports exit where a black sedan waited. He ignored the stares. His concern was only for the woman in his arms. Without stopping he bent entering the back seat of the dark car. Settling in he allowed himself to look at her. She was the one. He ignored the fact that she may never accept things as they were.

"I am sorry. Your life will never be the same again. You finally came and I am afraid that I can never let you go. I won't let you go. I will do everything in my power to make you happy." He thought and to make you love me. She began to stir her eyes fluttering then finally resting upon him. She blinked once. Twice.

Her dark eyes roamed over his face. He remained still on the inside his heart rate had increased. He wondered how he must look to her. "I know you." It was an acknowledgement.

"You know me. And I know you and for us there shall be no turning back." There was a steely command in his voice. She believed him. What had she gotten herself into and could she possibly get herself out of it.


One Enchanted Evening by Vanessa Richardson

© Copyright 2009. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.


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