Central International Airport
This choice: Justin asks the woman if he should know her from somewhere.  •  Go Back...
Chapter #4

Woman of the Hour

    by: Michael_Mauser
Oh, the hell with it, Justin thought. The work can keep a while longer yet. 'I hope you don't mind,' he began, 'but I have the feeling I've seen you somewhere before...' His voice tailed away on the last word as he mentally kicked himself yet again. Not only did that sound like an opening line, but a lame opening line into the bargain.

If the woman thought he was trying to pick her up, she at least seemed to be merely amused by it. 'That could be,' she replied. Closing the copy of Harper's Bazaar that lay open on her lap, she turned the cover toward him. The lady's own visage stared back at him. Lips slightly parted, hair artfully tousled in that just-got-out-of-bed look, but definitely not airbrushed in the slightest, Justin conceded.

'Taffina Marks?' The scientist frowned. He knew the name - he was always better with names than with faces - but where... 'Of course. I saw something about you in People magazine last month. You were being courted for the new Wonder Woman movie.'

'I know. God knows where they got that from; I'd have to be five inches taller and three cup sizes larger to do the role justice. And my friends call me Taff, by the way.'

'Oh. Oh, yes, I'm Justin. Justin Avery.'

'Charmed, I'm sure.' Taff leaned back toward the plane window, studying him with a strange half-smile playing about her lips. In his work, Justin was well used to examining specimens under the microscope; now he felt as though he was sitting in a Petri dish of his own. 'Let me guess, Justin. You don't look as though you're going to Hawaii for the surfing.'

'No; I'm a scientist. My - that is, my employers are in Honolulu. I have a meeting with them tomorrow.'

'Lord, how tedious. Stuck indoors all day playing with your Powerpoint presentation. You poor man. At least I get to work in the open air.' Taff tapped the cover of the magazine with one peach-coloured fingernail. 'Cameron insisted I come to Honolulu. Positively threw a fit when I tried to demur. Well, of course I gave in - gracefully, you understand. If you're working with genius, you have to accommodate its - little foibles. I'm sure you understand.'

Justin shrugged. 'A little. Forgive me, but I don't know Mr. Cameron's name.'

'That's his first name, darling. And as for Cameron Ruger's reputation, well... let's just say that in my business he has the clout of, say, Stephen Hawking in yours.'

'That's some heavy hitter.'

'Even so.' Taff raised an immaculately plucked eyebrow. 'I know; why don't you come and see for yourself, once your dreadful little escapade is done? After all, there's really no point in going to somewhere as lovely as Hawaii if you don't enjoy yourself, is there?'

Justin's eyes widened. 'Ms. Marks - Taff, I really don't...'

'Nonsense, darling, I won't hear of it.' Taff tore a strip off the edge of one page, used the magazine as a rest as she scribbled something on the paper. Folding the paper into three, she pushed it into Justin's shirt pocket. 'That's the hotel where I'm staying. Come find me. It'll be fun.'

'Excuse me, Ms. Marks?' The stewardess leaned slightly over Justin to address Taff more closely. 'There's a gentleman in first class who asked me to find you. A matter that he needs to discuss with you, he said.'

Taff sighed. 'Yes, I know what that will be. Do excuse me, Justin. A woman's work is never done, you know...' Carefully, she picked her way past Justin and disappeared toward the first class section.

Justin realized, perhaps a bit too late, that his mouth was hanging open and closed it. Better I start that reading now, I guess, he thought. Assuming that I can still concentrate...

You have the following choice:

1. The plane touches down at Honolulu airport.

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