RACHEL TARO
ONE YEAR LATER
Rachel Taro tried to put aside her overwhelming stress as she walked down the hotel hallway of the 13th floor. Her father had paged her a half hour ago during her preparation for the presentation she needed to give in less than an hour. Adley, the irritable man she was forced to call her boss, would definitely kill her for this. Yet the guilt in her heart from not seeing her father in months outweighed the desire to satisfy her boss. Her father sounded anxious and worried on the phone, making Rachel slightly nervous.
Finally she had reached her father's room. She knocked. There was no answer. Rachel huffed and knocked once more. Again, she was greeted with silence.
"Dad," Rachel called. "It's me, Rachel. Are you even-"
The door quickly opened at the mentioning of her name, and a man, no taller than Rachel herself, stood at the entrance with large, restless eyes. His grey hair was thinning on his round head, and his stomach was a rather large lump under his pinstripe suit. He smiled and said, "I'm so glad you are here, Rae."
Rachel beamed. She loved his nickname for her. It was a fatherly thing she had adapted to when she moved to L.A. to be closer with him. She stepped inside the hotel room, put her purse on the counter, and sat upright on the expensive leather couch.
She tried to ignore the bustling street 13 stories below her. Ever since she was a child, Rachel had a fear of heights. She felt she was suddenly falling back through the window, down many, many feet before the pavement reached her. It was a fear that gripped her heart whenever she was up this high. When her father saw the fearful look on her face, he quickly shut the curtains of the window, and then sat across from his daughter. Rachel's muscles slowly began to relax.
"So what is the problem?" Rachel asked.
"Problem?" Taro said, sounding puzzled. There was still an anxious gleam in his eyes that Rachel could not ignore.
"You sounded worried on the phone," she said patiently. "You said you wanted me here as soon as possible. Well, I'm here so just tell me what's wrong."
Taro pursed his lips. "I don't know Rachel..."
"Know what?"
"If it is the right thing to put such a heavy burden on you," he sighed.
It was Rachel's turn to be puzzled. "I don't understand. What are you talking about?"
Taro hesitated. Slowly, he reached inside his pocket and pulled out the most gorgeous locket Rachel had ever seen. She marveled at its exotic beauty: the gold complemented the alexandrite engraved at the center, and it had an elegant oval shape. The color of the gem was a purplish-red, and had obviously been shaped into a rhombus. Rachel couldn't help but awe at it. Taro held it out for her; Rachel accepted it willingly in her hand and observed its magnificence. The locket refused to open as she gently tried to pry it open.
"Is that alexandrite?" Rachel asked curiously.
Her father looked solemn. "Yes, Rae. The rarest gem in the world. I would like you to have it. Please," he held her hand in his. Rachel shuddered at his cold, shaking hands, "please Rae, take care of this locket and don't let it out of your site. Promise this, my daughter."
His wide, frightened eyes sent a shiver down her spine. There was something he was not telling her, and Rachel pleaded for him to confess. Her father just shook his head and feigned a happy smile.
"Now is not the time."
This was the last thing he said to her before Rachel left to go back to work, the mysterious locket tucked securely in her purse.
Rachel rummaged through her leather purse, until she pulled out her cell phone which had been ringing endlessly beneath lipstick and dollar bills. She suppressed a moan when she heard Adley at the end of the line. She grimaced at the sound of his irritating, high pitched voice.
"Yeah...okay...I know I'm late, it's just my father...yes, I know you don't like excuses, but I...yes...alright...I'll be there as soon-" The click at the end of the line told Rachel that Adley had hung up on her. She scowled menacingly at her phone.
"That rude-" Rachel was once again interrupted by the soothing Beethoven classic of her cell phone.
"What does Adley want now?"
Exasperated, she looked anxiously at the elegant, closed elevator doors. Open already. I'm already five minutes late. She ignored her noisy cell phone for several moments before turning it off completely. Rachel grinned maliciously.
"Now you know what it feels like to be hung up on, Adley you bastard," Rachel said triumphantly.
Her grin quickly vanished when she glanced at her father's hotel door down the far end of the hall. Instinct told her to stay with him, but she ignored the cold feeling at the pit of her stomach and waited impatiently for the doors to open. A presentation to the top business leaders was extremely important and it would cause a devastating effect on her career if she did not attend. Adley would finally find a reason to fire her. She could not lose her job, not after all the effort she put in to creating a new life for herself.
A brief moment passed before the elevator's golden doors opened slowly in front of her. A rather tall, broad shouldered man with spiky grey hair and stubble looked at her behind tinted sunglasses that hid his eyes. He wore a dark suit that seemed to fit him well. Something about this man seemed very familiar. Rachel struggled to see if she could remember his face. Those sunglasses made it more difficult to recognize him. The man held the door open with ease. Rachel could feel his eyes boring into her, as if he recognized her as well.
"Sorry, sir," Rachel asked modestly. "Have we met? I feel like I've seen you before."
The man grinned at her good-naturedly. "There are more than eight million people living here in NYC, Miss. I doubt you've ever met me until this moment. Unless..."
"Unless what?" she asked.
"Unless you work for the Oil Company by the river," he grinned in the corner of his lips. "I stop by there every once in a while."
Rachel glared at him. "No, those selfish, greedy lizards are not worth even thinking about. Not only do they poison our waters, but they are-"
She stopped. She was doing it again-speaking her mind without any sign of stopping which irritated the hell out of everyone who dared listen. Her career in business taught her that. The grin on his handsome face made her blush.
"You look stressed," he said.
"I am," Rachel admitted. "Work can be so hectic, sometimes."
"I know what you mean."
Rachel smiled. This man was a total stranger and yet she spoke so freely to him as if she had known him for years. He still held the elevator door open with his hand when he glanced down both sides of the hallway. A couple at the end of the hall walked toward their direction. An old woman sat quietly on a chair nearby, reading a crumpled newspaper dated a couple years ago. The edge of his lips twitched slightly. He looked back at Rachel, and his charming smile returned.
"I better get going," he said, taking a quickly glance at his watch.
"Are you on this floor?"
"Yes, for a short while."
Rachel stepped into the elevator shaft as the man walked out. She spun around to ask him, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't catch your name?"
The doors closed slowly enough for Rachel to see the grey-haired man walking casually in the direction of her father's hotel room.
