I Will Remember You
See Prologue for Disclaimer
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I'm so tired but I can't sleep
Standin' on the edge of something much too deep
It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard
Tuesday March 25, 1986
After leaving Amanda's . . .
Lee swallowed down the burning liquid and sighed in relief. It was only his first, but it was a start. He chose this bar because it was near his apartment and usually empty at this time of night. Peace and quiet—that's what he needed.
"Hi! How ya doing?"
Lee glanced over to find a stocky bald man with round glasses standing at the edge of the bar grinning like a lunatic.
Lee nodded ambiguously at the man and returned his focus to his drink.
"The name's Milton Festerman. You look like you could use another." Lee ignored the man's extended hand, but Milton was undeterred. "Can I buy you a drink?"
"Thanks, I'm good." He just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask? Hopefully this guy would get the hint.
"I'm a pretty good listener." Mr. Pesterman motioned for the bartender. "A Miller Lite and whatever this fine young man is having."
"Really, that's not necessary."
"I insist." He grabbed his beer and moved over to sit down on the stool next to Lee while Lee eyed the bartender refilling his glass. "You have family?" The little man didn't even wait for Lee to respond before diving into his memorized sales pitch. "Life throws us curves when we least expect it. You wouldn't want to leave the little woman to raise the kids while trying to make ends meet. It's hard enough—"
"Listen, I don't –"
"I hear it all the time. No one ever thinks it'll happen to them." He took a sip of his beer and started in again. "For as little as a dollar a day, you can have the peace of mind. . . ."
Lee zoned out and took another swig of his Scotch. By the time he had finished his second glass, the pushy salesman began winding up his speech.
"So you see, it's little cost for so much coverage. What do you think? Are you ready to take care of your loved ones?"
Lee had finally had enough and exploded. "Look, Pal! I'm a loner! Got it? I've got no one! Nada! Zilch! So, get out of my face with your . . . 'family planning' crap! The bartender was out from behind the bar in a matter of seconds, but Lee assured him he was fine and wouldn't be any more trouble. The pushy salesman was hurrying out the door before Lee could even blink.
Lee settled on the uncomfortable stool and tried to act interested in the sports highlights on the television in front of him. Like a child afraid of being punished, he sat quietly trying to go unnoticed.
A couple Scotches later, he worried less about being thrown out and more about numbing his thoughts. "Come on! What's a guy gotta do around here to get a drink?" Lee tapped the empty glass on the sticky bar then slid it into the others that had gone before.
"Are you sure you need another one, buddy?" The dark haired man stood before him with a bottle of Scotch hovering over a fresh clean glass.
Lee moistened his dry lips and grasped the edge of the bar. "I'm not your 'buddy'. And yeah, I'm sure of one thing and that's that I need another drink. Several more, actually. So be a pal and keep 'em coming. In fact . . ." Lee grabbed a hold of the bottle as the nervous bartender clutched it in his hand. Under the influence or not, Lee could still stare down anyone. Reluctantly the younger man let go allowing Lee to slam it down in front of him. He threw a wad of cash on the bar and topped off his glass.
Lee wasn't about to let some wet-behind-the-ears punk stop him from having a few harmless drinks after a long, stressful day. He was entitled to relax and throw back a few. After all, he was in complete control. The little scuttle earlier wasn't his fault. The twerp wouldn't stop hounding him. How many times did he have to tell him he didn't want any damn insurance?
Swallowing down a small burp, he gulped the amber liquid then glanced around the nearly empty room. Convinced he didn't have an audience he slumped back down on the padded stool and nursed his new best friend.
The bartender removed the empty glasses sitting in front of Lee, leaving him to wallow in private.
"Excuse me."
It was no small feat to lift his heavy eyes to see what the bartender wanted now. Lee raised a brow. "Should I bring another glass?" Lee looked down at his half-full glass and then up at the bartender in confusion when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end and a hand touched his forearm.
He didn't need to turn around to know whose hand it was. Young though he was, Lee had to hand it to the guy he was perceptive and took his leave. Throwing back the remaining Scotch in his glass, Lee started to pour another but the 'suburban albatross' snatched the bottle from him.
"Give it back, Amanda!" He reached for it, but she pulled it out of his reach. He saw what the stress of the past few days had done to her. Her usual sun-kissed skin was washed out and a wrinkle had taken up residence on her forehead.
"We need to talk, Lee."
"This is a bar. You drink in a bar!" He reached for the bottle again, but she was still too quick for him. Damn alcohol.
Amanda slid the empty glass over and painstakingly filled the glass. When she was done she made sure to keep the bottle out of sight before picking up the glass and throwing back its contents.
She burst into a coughing fit, and Lee stumbled to pat her on the back but was waved off. "I'm okay," she sputtered.
"What are you doing?" This wasn't his Amanda. She rarely drank and never the hard stuff. Not unless she was spending Christmas in a cabin with Russian spies. No, she was up to something.
"I'm drinking. You said you wanted to drink. I want to talk, but I'll drink until you're ready to talk." Determinedly, she poured another drink and brought it to her lips and he watched her hesitate. No such luck: he was calling her bluff.
After a moment, she threw back the Scotch only this time she coughed harder, nearly falling off her stool.
"Okay! Okay!" He pushed the glass away. "You wanna talk? Fine! Let's talk!" He ran his hand roughly through his hair and indicated a corner booth. If she wanted to talk, he was going to give her an earful. As she made her way over to the booth, he covertly snatched the bottle and glass off the bar before following.
After sliding his bounty onto the veneer tabletop, Lee threw himself into the booth—not even waiting for her to slide in on the other side. "What are you doing here, Amanda? How did you even find me?"
"I was on my way to your apartment, and I saw your car parked out front."
"So you decided to stop in for a chat?"
"I wanted to make sure you were okay. You were so upset earlier—"
"I wasn't upset!" he shouted then took a deep breath to calm himself. "I was frustrated that we lost the manuscript. It's just another case, Amanda. That's all!" She was shaking her head before he even finished his sentence. "What? Why are you doing that?"
"You don't believe that. If you did, you wouldn't be sitting in this dark empty bar drowning your sorrows. You heard Billy after our debriefing. Dr. Smith gave us twenty-four hours to find the manuscript." She tapped her watch. "And we still have seventeen hours. Otherwise, that's it. No more Scarecrow and Mrs. King." She stared at him expectantly.
"Is that such a bad thing?" Her mouth opened but closed abruptly at his pointed glare. "You can start over, Amanda. No more putting your life on the line. No more bullets. No more lies. Your family knows the truth. I know they're upset now, but they'll get over it and then you can start fresh. You don't need the Agency or me constantly pulling you away from them. No." He shook his head. "This is a good thing for everyone concerned. You should go home." He swallowed down the lump that lodged itself in his throat while the energy drained from the woman before him.
When Lee reached for the half-empty bottle of Scotch, she nudged it farther away, her eyes locked on him. If she thought she was going to win this . . . game, she was sadly mistaken. He scooted closer to her, deftly trying to ignore the sweet aroma of her perfume. "Hand me the bottle, Amanda." She shook her head defiantly.
He moved closer still. Even in a smoke-filled room, he could smell her—like rain on a hot summer's day. The closer he got to her, the more panicked he became. "Fine! I'll get the bartender to bring over . . ." The bartender was speaking quite intimately with a flirtatious girl at the other end of the bar. Amanda smiled triumphantly.
The sly approach hadn't worked perhaps he should try a more direct route. He stretched behind her with his left arm and grabbed her wrist that held the bottle. It wasn't until he felt Amanda's warm breath on his face that he noticed his close proximity to her. He loosened his grip on her arm only to slide his hand around her waist. Her sweet neck was just inches away. Her lips and delicate mouth . . . were moving. He pushed the thoughts away and tried to focus on what she was saying.
"Lee."
One word, but spoken with such need. When his focus moved from her lips to her eyes he saw the need there as well. Her voice caressed over him. "Lee, how can you tell me to go? We both know you want me to stay." She nibbled her lip. "I want to stay." Either the blood pounding in his ears or the large consumption of alcohol had drowned out the voice that normally screamed 'stop' whenever he imagined kissing Amanda. This time he was going to kiss her. Damn the consequences.
Pressing his lips to hers, he finally gave into the tension that had been building over the past few days . . . Hell, years. He cradled her head in his hands and proceeded to kiss her with all the passion he'd kept under a tight rein for so long. All control gone. All thoughts gone. He knew one thing: he needed to kiss this woman.
Her mouth was soft, pliant beneath his. "Lee," she softly moaned his name as he kissed his way down her neck and back up to her mouth. He had never heard her sound like that. She sounded—. A crash sounded from somewhere in the bar. Lee jumped back, leaving a slightly bewildered Amanda in his wake. The bartender sheepishly bent down to retrieve some shattered object off the floor.
Amanda was still half-clinging to him, and Lee not so carefully extracted himself from her grip. Like a blast of cold air, the crash had re-awoken his brain and reminded him of what he needed to do: push her out of his life, not pull her in. Light smoldered in her gold-flecked eyes. She was so beautiful. Smart. Resourceful. Loving.
Let her go, Lee. Don't let her end up like Dorothy, the voice taunted. It was like falling through a trap door. Walking on clouds one minute and falling into nothingness the next.
The silence loomed like a heavy mist. What had he been thinking kissing her like that? He was supposed to be convincing her he didn't want anything to do with her. If that's what it took to keep her safe he'd have to do it.
Amanda sat silent, staring at him. Waiting. His mind spinning, he grabbed the bottle of Scotch and poured himself a double.
"Lee?" She whispered as if frightened of his response.
He threw back the drink before answering. "Amanda, I'm sorry. It didn't mean anything."
"It didn't mean anything?" Eyes wide and brows furrowed, she stared at him in disbelief.
"No. I had too much to drink and got carried away. You know my reputation. 'Scarecrow chases anything in a skirt'."
"Right. So, you didn't feel anything when you kissed me?" she asked. Gone was the bewildered Amanda; in her place was a skeptical woman who was not going to be so easy to convince.
"Nope. Nothing." His years of Agency training had never covered how to combat the one person that knows you better than you know yourself. He'd rather face an entire army of Russian interrogators, than have this one conversation with Amanda King.
The piercing glare she gave as he struggled for a believable tale was nearly his undoing. She didn't believe him. He needed to make her believe him to ensure her future. Fists tightened at his sides, he pressed on. "I thought that since this will be your last night in town, perhaps I could add you to my little black book but it just wasn't there for me."
Sadness crossed her face before her jaw tensed. "It was less painful that time you slapped me, and we both know that wasn't any more real than this was. Be sure to take a cab home, Lee." Grabbing her purse, she slid out of the booth and strode toward the door.
Lee could only watch her leave. His mind told him to let her go yet his heart screamed to make her stay. A few minutes later found him still sitting there, legs numb, his head in his hands, wondering what he'd done to deserve this curse.
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TBC . . .