The Illumination by Karen Tintori Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Karen Tintori
his head. His steps quickened as he crossed the lobby.
But as he stepped toward the curb to hail a cab he was nearly knocked sideways by a jogger plowing into him.
âWhoa, sorry. Are you alright? I guess I wasnât looking where I was going . . .â
Rusty blinked, trying to clear his head. He felt woozy suddenly, with a strange warmth rushing through his body, like heâd just tossed back half a dozen shots of tequila on an empty stomach. The husky kid whoâd collided with him was staring at him in concern. He couldnât have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five, clean-cut, his brown eyes sincere and worried.
Rusty tried to speak and couldnât. He swayed, and the young man gripped his arms.
âSir, are you alright? Let me put you in a cab.â With that the brawny, blond-haired kidâs arm shot up, his finger signaling toward the stream of oncoming traffic.
A haze filmed Rustyâs eyes, but blinking didnât clear his vision. Why couldnât he speak? He felt himself being eased into a cab, but with a curious sense of detachment, as if he was watching from someplace outside of himself.
He was thirsty, and he was sweating.
Iâm going to be sick.
He heard the young man give the cab driver an address, but he couldnât make out the street. Home. He wanted to go home. He had to get to the train station. He tried to tell the cabbie to take him to Grand Central Station, but all that came out was an unintelligible croak.
âHeâs in bad shape, man. But Iâm his sponsor. Iâll get him to his AA meeting.â
What the hell is he talking about?
Rusty could see the door handle; he just couldnât reach it. His hand felt too heavy. His eyelids were heavy, too. He fought against the enveloping darkness but felt himself slipping deeper into its suffocating spell.
And then he couldnât breathe, couldnât move, couldnât hang on any longer.
Darkness.
Â
Lita surveyed the uneven stacks and piles that had accumulated across Natalieâs desk while she was in Italy, and thought better of adding to the chaos. Instead, she slid open the center drawer where Natalie kept her appointment calendar and nestled thepouch up-front, where she couldnât miss it, between the yellow marking pens and the stash of peanut M&Ms.
She made a mental note to call Natalie and tell her she had a gift waiting from Dana.
But then the phones started ringing, and the printer jammed twice while she was trying to churn out thirty collated copies of the report Dennis wanted on his desk by 3:00 P.M ., and she forgot all about the pouch sheâd tucked inside Natalieâs desk.
She didnât even remember it when Natalie said good night and sailed out at 4:30 for a meeting with a private collector before her weekly dinner with her friend Peggy.
Litaâs memory wasnât jogged until the phone call came from Rusty Sutherlandâs wife.
9
Â
Â
Â
Natalie couldnât decide which annoyed her moreâLitaâs forgetfulness in not informing her about the package until she was halfway through dessert or her carelessness in not asking Rusty Sutherlandâs wife for a phone number.
It was frustrating to think that sheâd been at her desk nearly four hours unaware that a present from Dana was right inside the top middle drawer. Impatience and excitement chafed at her as she left her old grad school study buddy, Peggy Lim, at Serendipity 3, polishing off her after-dinner Yudufundu Fruit and Fudge, and grabbed a cab back to the museum five minutes after Lita called her.
Natalieâs heels clattered up the stone steps, echoing loudly in the cloud-filtered moonlight. Reaching the wide double bronze doors, she fished her plastic security card out of her handbag.
Moments later she was exiting the elevator on the fourth floor and striding past the reception desk and the bank of lush floor plants towering nearly to the pressed-tin
But as he stepped toward the curb to hail a cab he was nearly knocked sideways by a jogger plowing into him.
âWhoa, sorry. Are you alright? I guess I wasnât looking where I was going . . .â
Rusty blinked, trying to clear his head. He felt woozy suddenly, with a strange warmth rushing through his body, like heâd just tossed back half a dozen shots of tequila on an empty stomach. The husky kid whoâd collided with him was staring at him in concern. He couldnât have been more than twenty-four or twenty-five, clean-cut, his brown eyes sincere and worried.
Rusty tried to speak and couldnât. He swayed, and the young man gripped his arms.
âSir, are you alright? Let me put you in a cab.â With that the brawny, blond-haired kidâs arm shot up, his finger signaling toward the stream of oncoming traffic.
A haze filmed Rustyâs eyes, but blinking didnât clear his vision. Why couldnât he speak? He felt himself being eased into a cab, but with a curious sense of detachment, as if he was watching from someplace outside of himself.
He was thirsty, and he was sweating.
Iâm going to be sick.
He heard the young man give the cab driver an address, but he couldnât make out the street. Home. He wanted to go home. He had to get to the train station. He tried to tell the cabbie to take him to Grand Central Station, but all that came out was an unintelligible croak.
âHeâs in bad shape, man. But Iâm his sponsor. Iâll get him to his AA meeting.â
What the hell is he talking about?
Rusty could see the door handle; he just couldnât reach it. His hand felt too heavy. His eyelids were heavy, too. He fought against the enveloping darkness but felt himself slipping deeper into its suffocating spell.
And then he couldnât breathe, couldnât move, couldnât hang on any longer.
Darkness.
Â
Lita surveyed the uneven stacks and piles that had accumulated across Natalieâs desk while she was in Italy, and thought better of adding to the chaos. Instead, she slid open the center drawer where Natalie kept her appointment calendar and nestled thepouch up-front, where she couldnât miss it, between the yellow marking pens and the stash of peanut M&Ms.
She made a mental note to call Natalie and tell her she had a gift waiting from Dana.
But then the phones started ringing, and the printer jammed twice while she was trying to churn out thirty collated copies of the report Dennis wanted on his desk by 3:00 P.M ., and she forgot all about the pouch sheâd tucked inside Natalieâs desk.
She didnât even remember it when Natalie said good night and sailed out at 4:30 for a meeting with a private collector before her weekly dinner with her friend Peggy.
Litaâs memory wasnât jogged until the phone call came from Rusty Sutherlandâs wife.
9
Â
Â
Â
Natalie couldnât decide which annoyed her moreâLitaâs forgetfulness in not informing her about the package until she was halfway through dessert or her carelessness in not asking Rusty Sutherlandâs wife for a phone number.
It was frustrating to think that sheâd been at her desk nearly four hours unaware that a present from Dana was right inside the top middle drawer. Impatience and excitement chafed at her as she left her old grad school study buddy, Peggy Lim, at Serendipity 3, polishing off her after-dinner Yudufundu Fruit and Fudge, and grabbed a cab back to the museum five minutes after Lita called her.
Natalieâs heels clattered up the stone steps, echoing loudly in the cloud-filtered moonlight. Reaching the wide double bronze doors, she fished her plastic security card out of her handbag.
Moments later she was exiting the elevator on the fourth floor and striding past the reception desk and the bank of lush floor plants towering nearly to the pressed-tin
Similar Books
Green for Danger
Christianna Brand
Cat Kin
Nick Green
The Fall of Light
Niall Williams
Secrets
Nick Sharratt
Ecko Endgame
Danie Ware
Stone Virgin
Barry Unsworth
His Girl Friday
Diana Palmer