New York, NY  7:12p.m.

Jarod sits in his black porshe roadster looking at the red notebook
and the headlines it holds. The headline reads "Dipolmat found murdered
in car"  From the information he was able to gather, it was definitely
a mob hit.  But the question was why?  The young man had no ties
to the mob, or bad debts or money problems that he could find.  Which
brought him here, where he is now. Sitting in this obscenely expensive
car, dressed in black leather, looking every bit the part of a mafia bad
guy.  Jarod looks up to the rearview mirror, the refecltion of his
eyes. He sighs heavily, shaking his head.  "What the hell are you
doing?" he asks himself aloud.  He opens the door and strides toward
the door of the well known hangout of possible suspects. A rather large
man of around 40, stops him at the door giving him the once over quickly. 
"Sorry this is a private party." he says curtly, waving him away. 
Jarod slips his hand inside his jacket, pulling out a business card. 
He lifts it to the man's eyelevel letting the man read it without touching
it. Jarod sees the shock register on the features of the round man's face. 
"Excuse me, I wasn't aware of who you are. Please come in." he says hastily,
waving his arm threw the open door.

The round man now known as Paulie, begins introducing him to everyone
in a completely excitied manner. Jarod notices that everyother man's name
is Paul or Peter.  Didn't these people have an imagination? Between
the Peter's and Paul's he also notices there are quite a few Tony's or
some variation. The name he'd picked for this particular pretend inspires
fear and respect from these people.  RESPECT is everything to these
people, as well as loyalty.  Paulie shouts across the room to another
man named Paulie but calls him, Big Paulie.  Jarod watches the distinguished
older Italian striding cofidently towards him as if he owns the place.
Hell he probably does, he thought.  "Big Paulie, you'll never guess
who this is?" Paulie chirps almost unable to contain his excitiment. 
"Well what I want to know is how someone got in here that I don't know."
Big Paulie growls in the face of the round man. "But Paulie this Luciano."
Paulie answers frightened.  "Luciano?" He asks in a disbievling voice

heavily laced in itialian accent. Big Paulie swings his head to eye
Jarod intensely. For the first time since arriving Jarod spoke. "Luciano,
Jarod Luciano." He says as he eyes the man and his surroundings cticed
again for exits, raising his hand to shake Big Paulie's. "This is quite
an honor Jarod. I wasn't aware that "Lucky" had any children." He says
warily, shaking the offered hand.  "He didn't want any one to know
about me. I wasn't even with him when he died.  He was scared someone
might use me to get to him. So, I was raised by Uncle Meyer." Jarod notices
the swirl of respect on the man's features at just the mention of the names.
"So why after all these years have you resurfaced?" "Papa didn't want me
in the business.  He just didn't understand it's in the blood. Uncle
Meyer understood as well as Uncle Frank. I came in to New York just last
week checking on a few things I have intrest in here."

Jarod was in the middle of a "friendly" pool game, all ready up a grand
in cash when the man himself walks threw the door.  He notices every
man or woman in the place seem to stop whatever they were doing to watch
as Don Corleone walks threw the bar.  Jarod knew he was no longer
tied to anything illegal but he still didn't like the man. In his younger
days his was very well-known for his short and raging temper. For staring
fights with anyone and for biting off the ear of a man who had insulted
his uncle. Then as if by magic he became calm and dropped all of his bad
habits, drinking gambling but especially women. It was as if his heart
belonged to someone else for all of enternity. Just thinking of the man's
past made Jarod want to dole out a little justice.

Don Corleone stands in the middle of the large smoked filled room and
claps his hands once loudly just to make sure he had everyone's attention.
"I have a special gift for my Micheal and I'd like to invite all of you
outside to witness." Jarod searches the crowd of 15 or so men looking for
this 'Micheal'. While doing research he discovered a little known secret.
Any male at the age of 25 on their birthday gets 'made', whether they want
to or not. He wasn't looking forward to watching the ensuing fight that
was to take place. The intiation for this Micheal was to fight six men
at once and survive then shoot someone in cold-blood to make their 'bones'
as they call it. It was supposed to be some form of loyalty to these people
and a means of respect for the new 'made man'. Big Paulie wraps his arm
around Jarod's shoulders leading him out the door whispering in his ear."This
is going to be good."chuckling loudly.

Every one stands starring in awe at the full orchestra sitting in the
middle of the busy 4 lane street. Jarod looks both ways seeing the police
blocking the street with barriers saying "Police line do not cross" 
The Orchestra starts playing some opera Jarod had once heard a long time
ago but he wasn't quite sure from where. Every one parts like the red sea
when Don Corleone raises

his hand asking someone to dance. Jarod looks over his shoulder and
his breath catchs at the sight of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen
walking toward the outstreched hand.  He watches her as if she were
moving in slow motion. Her long dark brown wavy hair, swinging off her
shoulder with just the slightest movement of her head. The long black leather
trench coat giving just the slightest hint at the body beneanth it. Her
long black leather clad legs walking toward the Don with the most beautiful
smile. Eyes sparkling as if on the verge of tears of joy. Jarod gasps when
she stops, standing in front of him.  "Uncle Paulie" is all she says,
but to Jarod it sounds like the music itself, soft and melodic, almost
hyponotizing.  Big Paulie slips the

black trench coat from her back laying it across his arm. "Thank you"
she whispers turning to face him, but stops when she catches sight of Jarod. 
She smiles shyly, beginning to blush at the intense gaze he's giving her. 
Then with 3 more strides she's in Don Corleone's arms.

Jarod watches, as well as everyone else, in amazement at the two waltzing
in the middle of the 4 lane street of Manhattan.  He finally remembers
where he'd heared this particular opera from, it was one of the ones Sydney
would listen to while standing in the solariarum of the Center. As the
female began to sing her solo he can see the woman translating the italian
words to the Don.  "This song is about losing someone that you love
with all your soul Jarod.  It's about letting them go, even through
you'd give anything to stay with them, even your own life." Sydney had
explained looking up to the blue sky threw the plexiglass enclosed area.

He's abruptly brought back to the present when he sees Big Paulie walk
up and begin to dance with the woman.  The Don makes a motion with
his hand to keep the opera going, making them play the one song over and
over again.  She seems content to dance with every man that walks
up to take the place of the one before.  Big Paulie slaps Jarod on
the shoulder pushing him out toward the dancing couple. "Go ahead Luciano"
He starts to chuckle under his breath at the fear on Jarod's face. "Don't
worry, Micheal doesn't bite." He assures pushing him toward the couple
a little more forcefully Micheal, Micheal! Oh my God! That's Micheal Corleone.
This beautiful woman is... He couldn't finish his thought before he has
her in his arms and is expertly waltzing her around the street.

"Who is that?" The Don asks Big Paulie crossing his arms. "That's 'Lucky's'
boy, Jarod" he answers with a smile. "Oh really" The Don drawls out watching
the two dance. Jarod's completely lost in the depths of her brown eyes
as she looks at him with a shy smile on her face. "Do you know what this
song means?" she asks in a soft voice.  "Yes, it's about the loss
of love." Jarod answers smiling back at her. "Actually it's about the loss
of your soulmate. The ultimate love." she says leaning closer to him as
a tear falls down her cheek.  "Who did you lose?" he asks softly in
her hair, smelling the light floral scent.  "This was my mother and
father's song.  According to him I was concieved to this song." she
answers as another tear follows the first. "It's very beautiful do you
speak itialian?" "Actually I speak 12 languages it's part of my job." "What
kind of job would have you speaking so many languages?" he asks some what
confused. "I'm an interpreter for the U.N."  Jarod's mind starts to
reel at the information she had just unknowingly gave him. Jarod raises
her hand and kisses the back lightly, looking in her eyes. "Thank you for
the dance and Happy Birthday." he says softly against the back of her hand. 
"No, thank you Mr.?" "Luciano, Jarod Luciano. But please call me Jarod."
"All right Jarod, thank you again." Jarod didn't seem to want to let go
of her hand as he steps back from her.

Micheal takes a hestitant step back just letting their fingertips remain
touching.  Not wanting to break the contact with this stranger. Trying
to contain the intense feelings she's having about him. They had only exchanged
a few words but she wants to have more. I didn't even feel this way with
Tristin and I loved him. What is wrong with me?  Micheal's brought
back to reality

by her father kissing her cheek. "Happy Birthday Princess" he whispers
in her ear.  Then there was a loud bang like a gun shot and Every
one's heads snaps up to watch the fireworks spell out "Happy 25th Birthday
Micheal" in a blinding white flash.  Don Corleone takes out an envelope
from his jacket as well as a set of keys handing them to her. "Thank you
Daddy" she whispers choked by emotion.  "I've all ready arranged for
you to take some time off from work for the trip so don't worry about it."
He explains taking the keys out of her hand. He covers her eyes as he tilts
his head for Paulie to bring her car around.  He turns her around
to face the crowd and not the street.  He removes his hands and she
sees Jarod smiling warmly at her. She smiles back before she can stop herself.
"I see you made a new friend." her father whispers in her hair, kissing
it. "Wouldn't you like to know." she teases smiling at him. "Give an old
man a break."  She snorts out "Old man, yeah right." smiling. Don
Corleone hits a button on the remote starting the car and the same song
begins to play making her turn around.

She gasps at the sight of the Black Ferriar convertible. She turns jumping
into her father's arms screaming thank you over and over. She runs arounds
the car running her fingers over the paint of the car posseivily, squealing
with delight at the gift. Jarod watches her hand wishing the car was his
body that she's caressing. Stop it! Stop thinking like this. "Who wants
a ride?" she screams to the crowd. "I think I should have the first ride
since I bought it." the Don says climbing in beside her. "And how about
don't kill me." he adds smiling.

~~~~~~~~

 

"I've never had anyone beat me. I think you're full of shit." Big Paulie
says frustrated tossing the pool cue onto the table. "I swear I just started
playing this a couple of days ago. It's all geometery." "Yeah well geometetry,
whatever, but I know someone you can't beat." he turns looking over the
crowd "Hey Micheal! I've gotta live one for ya'!"  Jarod watches as
Micheal turns from talking with some friends with a drink in her hand,
walking toward them with a gleam in her eye. "Why do I have the feeling
I'm about to get my ass beat." Jarod comments to no one in particular.
"Because you are." Big Paulie assures him smiling, wanting some of his
money back.  "What cha' playing?" she asks leaning against the next
table smiling. "8-ball" Jarod offers smiling at her. "You want to break
or rack?" "I'll break" she answers setting her martini in the middle of
the next table. "Uncle Paulie, can I use your stick? This won't take long."
she asks chalking it up. Jarod watches as she sets the cue ball off to
the side then leaning over it, then lining it up again. Micheal looks up
at Jarod standing at the other end, smiling at him. "You want to put a
little money on this?" she asks. Paulie smiles to himself knowing she's
got him. "Sure, how much?" "How bout a grand?" "I think I can afford that."
he answers smiling smugly.  Micheal leans back down and breaks hard
then stands up with her hand out. "One grand" she says smiling just as
smugly as Jarod was only a second ago. "The game's not finished." he protests
looking at her confused. "Yes it is." "She dropped the 8 on the break,
she wins automatically." Paulie explains smiling. Jarod quickly scans the
remaining the balls on the table noting that the 8 ball is no where to
be found. He sighs heavily counting out a grand. He turns to Big Paulie
"I told you I only learned this game a couple a days ago." he complains
to the smiling man. Jarod goes to hand her the money when she stops him,"Give
it to Paulie. I'm sure that's only part of what he actually lost but I

really don't want it. How about another game though?"

Jarod notices a crowd gathering around their table watching the third
game they just began. Micheal looks back at Jarod as she shoots the 6 ball
into the pocket. She runs the rest of the table in only four shots. "Thanks
for the game. It was...interesting." she says laying the cue stick in the
middle of the table. "Yeah, maybe we can do this again some time?" "Sure,
give me a call and

we'll make a night of it." Jarod watches as she starts walking back
over to her friends. Oh, I'm definitely going to, he thinks smiling. "I
think you have a date." Big Paulie comments looking after her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jarod jumps awake in the massive king sized bed, a cold sweat covering
his body, his mind still trapped in the violent nightmare of torture. He
finally realizes he's safe and catches his breath. He wipes the sweat from
his face with the satin sheets. He gets up and walks into the livingroom
of the suite unaware of the person sitting on the couch. Micheal watches
as Jarod walks in wearing black silk boxers covered in sweat heading for
the bar. She watches as Jarod pours himself a glass of cold water. She
feels a little ashamed for intruding and a whole lot of embarrasement at
looking at his muscular body. The strong lines of muscle rippling under
his skin, the dark hair on his chest tapering as it goes lower on his chest,
almost pointing an arrow to his boxer shorts. "I hope I'm not interrupting
anything." Micheal says softly, in case he has company.  Jarod spins
around in shock at her voice, scared that it's Miss Parker.  "I'm
sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." Micheal says standing up. "I'd better
go."  Micheal starts heading for the door not looking at him. 
"Please stay, ummm.."he looks down at the clothes he's wearing, or not
wearing

"I'll be right back. Why don't you order some breakfast from room service
while I get dressed." Jarod says smiling starting to walk toward the bedroom
of the massive suite of The Waldorf-Astoria Hotel.

Micheal sits the phone back in it's cradle as Jarod walks in from the
bedroom, fully clothed this time, making her groan internally. "Why don't
we start with how you found me? and how you got in here past my sercurity?"
Jarod asks sternly, slipping his hands in the pockets of his black dress
pants. She shrugs her shoulders heading for the bar. "It wasn't that hard,
if you know to where look or who you're looking for. And it tends to help
that I'm who I am." She answers smiling at him Jarod sits on the couch
watching her walk comfortably around his suite, as if she'd lived there
her whole life. "All right, so what are you doing here?" Micheal walks
out onto the terrace of the penthouse, looking over the bustling city.
She turns leaning her back against the stone railing "I didn't have anything
to do today. Daddy told me you're new to the city so I thought I'd give
you the 50 cent tour. Besides I want to drive my new car and I don't have
anyone to go with, all of my friends are at work." Jarod finally notices
her pastel green sundress in stark contrast to her deeply tanned arms,
chest, and legs. The warmth of the early spring breeze, blowing in the
open doors. "So what exactly IS the 50 cent tour?" Micheal walks back in
and sits on the far end

of the couch, she props her head up with her hand, resting her elbow
on the back of the suede couch. "Well....there's the Empire State Building,
the Statue of Liberty, the Lincoln Center or The Museum of Modern Art."
Jarod slowly smiles at her suggestions. He'd been to every one of those
places during his first trip to New York and in that exact order.

Jarod opens his mouth to say something cute, when there's a knock at
the door from one of the men he'd hired as bodyguards announcing that the
room service has arrived. Anthony, another Tony he thought, wheels the
table inside then leaves without a word. "So, let's see what you ordered,
shall we?" he offers waving his arm toward the dinningroom.

~~~~~~~~

I-95  heading north

"Turn off on the next exit" Micheal says pointing out the window of
her Ferriari. Jarod looks over to her then back to the road. "Yes Ma'am"
quickly nodding at her instructions. Micheal playfully slaps his arm, giggling.
"Watch it tough guy, or you might just find yourself walking back to your
hotel." she warns laughing. "I really had fun today. I haven't had that
much fun in a long time." "I guess I should take that as a complement right?"
she asks leaning her head back turning it to look at him. "Oh most definitly." 
Before Jarod even knew what he was doing he lifts her hand and lightly
kisses her knuckles, lowering her hand but still holding it. Micheal licks
her lips, closing her eyes at the feel of his soft lips on her skin. Jarod
lets go of her hand, down shifting, getting off the interstate.

They ride in silence, both trying to figure out just what is happening
between them. "Turn there" she says leaning over him, indicting a gravel
road to his left. The low hanging, moss covered trees disappear revealing
a large mansion. "Is this Don Corleone's home?" Jarod asks turning to face
her. "One of several, but actually it's my grandfather's, he passed it
down to my uncle, but he lives in Rome. So just Daddy and I use it." "Where's
your mother?" Micheal looks out the window watching the slow moving scenery,
"She died" she sighs "She died before I was born, her mind any-way." "I'm
sorry" She turns back to him smiling slowly. "It's okay, I never knew her
so I don't really know what I'm missing. Besides with how large "The Family"
is I ended up having about 10 mothers, I mean everyone's wives and girlfriends."

Jarod stops the car in the circular drive way in front of the front
door.  Don Corleone steps out greeting his guests, hugging Micheal
happily, then hugging Jarod in the "family way", just gripping his upper
arms tightly. The three of them walk in the extensive house. Jarod takes
in the artwork and sculptures placed strategically threw the house. There
are no clear shots for snipers from the windows, he thinks. "So Micheal
what are you doing here? Is there something wrong at the apartment?" The
Don asks, concern gripping him. "Daddy would you mind if we talk about
it later? I really don't want to get into that right now." "Of course not
sweetheart. Whatever you want." he says hugging her, stroking her cheek
softly. The man may have been a monster at some point but he's a good father,
Jarod thinks. "Has someone been giving you some trouble?" Jarod asks, concern
lacing his voice. Micheal looks back at him, slightly smiling, "Nothing
really, just" "Honey why don't you get us some drinks while I talk to Mr.
Luciano?" He asks interupting her. "Sure Daddy. Jarod?" "I'll just have
water, thank you."

Don Corleone watches as she leaves then turns to Jarod raising his arm
to the couch. Jarod sits down waiting. "Don" Don Corleone raises his hand
stopping Jarod. "Call me Vincent, please." "Alright Vincent and please
call me Jarod." "I'm sure Jarod that she told you about Tristin." Vincent
begins as he sits in an armchair across from the younger man. "She was...in
love with

him, or what she thought was love at the time." Jarod sits there soaking
in every word. Tristin was the diplomat and she was in love with him. Jarod
sat there not really listening to the man but every now and then a word
would drift into his subconscious. Like "Relationship" "4 months" "Moving". 
Still things were beginning to become focused, the pieces to the puzzle
that was the

murder of "Tristin Drake" taking shape in his mind. "So, how long has
she been being stalked?" Vincent recovers quickly from his monemtary shock
at how he had figured it out so fast. "Almost a year now. Like I said she
won't move, she says that she's not going to let some whacko run her from
her home. Make her hide like she's done something wrong." "I'd like to
help if you'll

accept it." "I've got everybody on this, including the F.B.I. I guess
one more person could help. Maybe you could talk some sense into her, god
knows she won't listen to me, or anyone else for that matter."

Through out dinner the three of them talk about nothing inparticular,
a little about the art that Jarod and Micheal had seen earlier.  Finally
Vincent stands up from the table announcing that he has some business to
attend to in the city and won't be back til tommorrow afternoon. Jarod
stands up and shakes his hand bidding him a goodnight. "Good night Daddy.
I'm going to stay here tonight I think." She says hugging him. "What ever
you want Princess. I love you, sweet dreams" he says kissing her forehead,
smoothing back a few stray tendrils of long hair that has fallen out of
her french braid.

The housekeeper, Mrs. Salititori, comes in starting to clear the dinner
dishes from the table. Micheal stands up helping her. "Jarod would you
like some dessert?" "Oh you must! Bell makes the best canoli's in the US.
There's only one other person who makes them better, and she lives in Rome."
Micheal says excited, smiling.  "Oh someone does, do they?  maybe
you just not get any of my second class canoli. Maybe I just let Jarod
here eat them all before you get even one." "You love me too much to do
that and you know it." Micheal exclaims smugly, kissing the old woman's
cheek. Mrs. Salititori pinches Micheal's cheek smiling, "Come along little
one, I might even have something special, just for you."

Micheal and Jarod sit around the kitchen table stuffed to the gills
from the canolis and homemade ice cream that Mrs. Salititori had made for
Micheal's birthday. Every now and then they would catch the other looking
at the other. "So..what was other gift your father gave you?" Jarod asked
trying to get her to open up so maybe she will tell him about the stalker.
"I get THAT gift every year. It's a trip to Italy. I'm usually gone for
about 2 weeks but this year I'll be gone a month. "Why are you staying
a month?" "I've been having some personal...um just something that I'd
like to get away from this year."  Jarod looks down at his watch 10:27.
"Well I'd better call a cab. It's getting late." "You can stay here if
you'd like. There's plenty of rooms. You can just pick one." "I think I
will, thanks." Micheal silently thanks god that she won't really be alone
tonight. in this huge house.

~~~~~~~~~

Jarod jumps awake to screaming, he suddenly realizes it's not his. That's
a switch, he thinks, before jumping out of the bed. He runs into Micheal's
room. He sees her in the throws of a bad nightmare. Bad, even by his standards.
Jarod leans over her, "Micheal, Micheal?" he whispers But it doesn't seem
to rouse her. "Micheal?" he says a little louder, nudging her shoulder
softly

Micheal jumps up scanning the room for her demon, breathing heavy,
her hair matting to her head from her sweating. Her V-neck tshirt sticking
to her skin, her legs tangled in her sheets. "What? Where am I?" she asks
holding her forehead. Jarod sits on the side of her bed looking at her.
"You were having a nightmare. I heard you all the way in my room. It's
all right, you're

safe, no one can hurt you. Just lay back down and try to get some sleep."
He answers in a soothing voice. Micheal lays back down, starting to close
her eyes. Jarod stands, starting to go back to his room, to his own demons
that await him there. "Jarod?" He turns back to her "Would you mind sleeping
in here with me? I mean...um in the bed with me. Not sexual or anything
but just...shit nevermind." she finishes rolling over so she won't see
his face.  Jarod doesn't answer instead just climbs in behind her.
He presses his chest against her back wrapping his arm around her waist
protectively. Micheal lays her arm over his then whispers "Thank you" 
They both sleep the rest of the night without waking from their nightmares.

Jarod awakens to a warm feeling pressing against his side. He blinks
open his eyes turning his head to the left.  He sees Micheal's face
relaxed, sleeping contentedly. God she's even more beautiful, he thinks.
He moves a little and she groans rolling over on to her back.  She
throws her arm over head laying over her hair that splayed against the
white pillow.  Jarod rolls over

to his side laying his hand on the flat stomach of her tshirt. The
other stroking her hair. She turns her head away from his face rubbing
her cheek against her arm getting comfortable, exposing one whole side
of her face to him. Jarod studies her profile as sunlight streams in from
the window, giving the whole room an unnatural glow. Micheal moves her
hand on top of his that's

laying on her stomach. Jarod leans over unable to control himself,
kissing her cheek, with the lightest of kisses. He brushes his lips over
her soft cheek, back and forth. Micheal's eyeslids flutter as she slightly
parts her lips turning her head slowly still dreaming. Jarod softly kisses
her lips. Micheal goes to lick her lips in her sleep just as Jarod goes
to kiss her again. He parts his lips and their tongues slightly touch as
he kisses her top lip.

Micheal now fully awake and realizing that it's not a dream, wraps her
arm around his neck, lightly scratching her fingernails in his hair, opening
her mouth a little more as they keep softly kissing each other's mouthes.
She rolls over a little pressing her other hand against the side of his
back, wanting, needing to be closer to him, deepening the kiss to where
it's not so innocent anymore. A kiss filled with passion, need, longing.
Jarod cradles the back of her head, as the kisses get longer, bolder. 
His other hand lingers on her hip, roaming up her ribs and dipping back
around to her lower back in a lazy circle of sorts.

Jarod slides a leg inbetween hers and she lays a leg over his sandwiching
it, stroking it with the inside of her thigh. The hair on his leg sending
sensations coursing threw her. He moves his hand to the leg that's distracting
him with it's soft strokes. He holds it still on his hip then moves his
hand along the sheet back to her hip, sqeezing it gently but firmly. Jarod
rolls over laying half on her half on the bed.  She kicks the sheet
down to where it's at her waist. She takes his hand slowly guiding it under
her tshirt til his hand is cupping under her full breast.  Micheal
runs her hand up his arm to his back, softly moaning in his mouth, as Jarod's

hand gently kneeds the tender flesh.  He strokes his thumb back
and forth over the hardening nipple, then covers it's erectness in his
palm.  He lightly kisses over her cheek down to her neck, running
the tip of his tongue in a circle over her throat before kissing it open-mouthed.

Jarod's mind starts to go into overdrive at the sensations pricking
his nerve endings, screaming for him to stop before this goes too far. 
It was one thing to pretend to be in the mafia. It's quite another to mess
with with this woman's mind, heart. He hears her soft moans, his name whispered
from her overly kissable lips. He makes up his mind, so as quickly as everything
started

it ends.

Jarod leans up looking down into her beautiful face, wanting nothing
more than to make love to her. An almost overwhelming need to be inside
her, to be inside her heart, her soul. Jarod starts to move out of her
arms whispering, "I'm sorry, I can't" He wants to say so much more, but
isn't able. He just gets up from her bed and walks out, closing the door
behind him.

Micheal rolls over, her back to the door, beginning to silently cry,
knowing that no one would want her.  She had thought that he wouldn't
mind the scar across her stomach from the attack andattempted rape that
happened over a year ago.  Tristin was the one who had saved her from
it going any further, had stayed with her in the hospital, talked to the
doctors just to make sure she'd be all right. It took her 4 months just
to find him to thank him. They became fast friends then they gradually
became best friends, then lovers. She missed him, the comfort, the security
she felt in his arms. She thought she had found that again, maybe even
more with Jarod.  She now knew that no one would ever care or want
her with the scars she carried on her body as well

as the ones no one could see, the ones on her very soul that were just
ripped open once again by four whispered words "I'm sorry I can't".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Micheal sits at her desk, in her office, drumming her nails across the
requests for interperters for dipolmats, or foreign dignatarties. Resting
her head on her hand just watching the burgundy nails tapping absently. 
A buzzing from her phone brings her back. "Yes?" she answers threw the
intercom to Missy, her assitant. "Miss Mancini, there's a Jarod on line
3 for you."  Micheal looks at the phone for a second wanting to talk
to him, but decides she can't go through with getting ripped wide open
again.  Two days and nothing, and now he's calling. To say what? I
shouldn't have kissed you? How'd you get that disgusting scar? "Tell him
I don't want to talk to him."  "Yes, ma'am" came the response but
she didn't hear it. All she can hear is "Jarod, line 3" as she watches
the blinking green light on the phone.  Suddenly the light was out
and when she looked at her hands

one held the reciever, the other poised over the button ready to depress
line three.  How the hell had that happened? A whipsering voice in
her heart told her she'd just blew it.  But blew what?

"Miss Mancini?" Micheal answers looking at the phone hoping to find
a blinking light, but doesn't "Yes?"  "There's a delivery for you."
"Send it in" Micheal had been expecting a dipolamtic pouch of documents
needing to translated. It had been 30 minutes since Jarod called so she
was completely surprised at the dozen light pink roses that Missy brought
in. Micheal takes the small envelope from the center of the flowers. She
opens it and reads "I'm"  "What does it say?" Missy asks, smelling
the small perfect buds. "It just says "I'm" It's weird."  Micheal
barely had the words out her mouth when there's a knock at her door.

 

 

 

 

 

If you're interested in opera the song is 'Time to say Goodbye' by Andrei
Bocelli and Sarah Brightman. I found it on his cd 'Romaniza'. It is very
beautiful if you like romantic music.