Chapter III: Crescendo Part 1

Friday, May 31st, 09.00 a.m.

Erin De Rossi arrived in the hall of her gym with her usual resolute behaviour. Jean Reynolds, her old friend, secretary, and for over one year now her partner in the gym, raised her gaze from the desk and welcomed her with a smile:

"Hi, Erin, how are you this morning?"

"Less good as usual", Erin answered, pulling back a long strand of brown hair from her face, "Tonight I hadn't slept much."

Jean's smile became mischievous:

"Oh? And what's his name, do I know him?"

It was an old joke between them, and Erin made a vague gesture:

"I don't remember, I think it was Tom... or Craig... or was it Larry?"

"If you follow the usual schedule, Mark was on yesterday", Jean grinned. Laughing, Erin headed for her office, where her smile went off at once. Sometimes it was hard for her joking this way, because after the end of her marriage, she hadn't been able to feel anything more than a fleeting interest for a man. Yet there were a good number of hunks in the gym! Moreover, she was a beautiful woman who looked, and felt, easily ten years younger than her real age, and she didn't lack opportunities. But so far, none of those she had gone out could excite even a single hormone in her, so her sexual life in almost two years had reduced to a few kisses that had left her completely indifferent. The only one who had been able to evoke in her a real interest had been Jarod O'Donnell, a handsome as much as mysterious man, but their encounter had been too short and with no consequence. She would have talked about him to Jean, but in the days following her return, they had never had the chance to make a chat in peace.

She shook her head: it was time to get to work.

Two hours later she gave up: there was nothing to do, she was unable to focus. This morning she simply couldn't stop thinking of Jarod. With a sigh, she put away the papers that she was meant to take care of and stood up: if she couldn't work, she might just as well exercise a bit. She changed in her private bathroom, putting on a tight fitness suit in vivid colours, and looked in the mirror: she had never been vain, but in the last few months she had been on a bland diet, which had taken her to the shape she had been fifteen years earlier. She smirked at her reflection: twenty-two pounds [ten kilograms] less were noticeable, of course! Her thinned waist made her breasts look a measure larger, and her legs looked longer. Yes, she was very glad about her appearance... She recalled Jarod's stare when she had showed up in her swimming-suit: what did he tell her, that she looked like a mermaid? No one had ever complimented her this way... Well, her father used to, but he didn't count. And then, she had seen that same stare the day after, when she was wearing the black dress with the spaghetti-strings and the lace jacket. At the end of the evening, Jarod had told her that all the by-standing men had envied him. Again, Erin did not remember somebody ever telling her something like this.

With a sigh, she turned her thoughts off Jarod: she would never see him again, and as regrets are useless, as she had learned in the harshest way, she woke up from her daydream and headed for one of the gym rooms, where in the next couple of hours she devoted herself to aerobic and spinning exercises.

But deep inside her mind, the thought of Jarod was lingering, stubbornly.

Sunday, June 2nd, 05.45 p.m.

Jarod drove the blue Chevrolet Corvette, which he had purchased a few days before, northwards along the state road. He hadn't resisted for a long time in San Francisco: it was a beautiful town, but he didn't like the chaos of a metropolis. So, he had shoved all his belongings once more in his travel bag, hopped into the car and taken the road towards the Napa Valley. He had heard a lot about this place, famous for its vineyards producing renowned wines, and he thought it was peaceful enough for him. Not that he wished to take solace in a little village, where the coming of a stranger is always noticed, because being noticed was exactly the last thing he wanted; but he was looking for a mid-sized town where he could settle down for a while without catching somebody's eye and renew his strength, psychologically even before physically, because his endless run from the Centre had worn him out.

The engine of the Corvette purred beneath the hood, giving him a pleasant feeling of power, well-controlled but ready to explode if the need called.

"Try and catch me", he muttered under his breath with an evil smirk, addressing the hounds of the Centre in his imagination: with their sedans, they could not even slightly compete with the speed of the Corvette.

One hour later, he arrived in view of a town, which looks attracted him at once: it seemed tidy and peaceful, and extensive vineyards surrounded it. Along the way, advertising billboards of every measure and shape showed the name of various winemakers: Barnes, Johnson, Alonzo, Chiarini... English, Spanish, Italian names, in the typical mix due to the immigration of people from all over the world. Jarod cast them no more than a distract glance, driving the Corvette along the state road, heading for the town, which could count maybe about fifty-thousand inhabitants.

It was almost dark when he entered Santa Lorita, and he decided to spend the night in a motel. The day after, he thought, he'd make a tour and, if his first impression was confirmed, he'd stay there for some time.

All the time that the Centre would need to find his whereabouts again.

OOO

He caught sight of the building at the last moment and had to brake slightly hard. Summerdale Motel, said the sign; an inquiring glance informed Jarod that it had to be a clean and well-kept place, so he parked the Corvette and entered the hall. The man behind the desk, about sixty years old and with as nice a look as this place, welcomed him with a kind nod. A plastic tag on his shirt reported his name: Mike.

"Good evening, sir, may I help you?"

"I'd like a room for three days, maybe more", Jarod answered, instinctively liking his interlocutor. He guessed immediately the reason: he reminded him of Sydney, his mentor at the Centre, who had raised and educated him and whom he loved like a father, knowing he loved him in return like a son. Not everybody at the Centre was evil people, he thought suddenly.

He filled in the form that Mike had handed him, writing his datas with a vaguely childish hand; as usual, he had to give false generalities, and kept the Irish name O'Donnell he had given a few days before to Erin. In the week that had passed since their short meeting, he had thought often of her, and using again this name in some way made it easier that he was doomed to never see her again.

Jarod handed his credit card to Mike and watched him widening his eyes: granted, he hadn't seen often, if he ever had, the Titanium Card. Only a restricted number of people could afford using it.

He carried the large travel bag and the metallic suitcase, which were all his luggage, in his room, stripped and took a shower. Then he donned dark pants and a white T-shirt; realising he was hungry, he decided to go out and have dinner somewhere.

Mike was no longer at the reception; instead of him there was a woman in her early thirties, blond and quite attractive; the nametag on her shirt proclaimed her Ellen. She heard him coming, so she looked up from the magazine she was leafing through; her blue eyes expressed appreciation for what they were looking at.

"Good evening", he said politely.

"Good evening", she returned in an emphatic way, "May I help you?"

From the woman's facial expression, Jarod guessed she was meaning she was available for him. Having lived the ninty-five percent of his life within four walls, at the Centre, he couldn't for sure been called an expert in this kind of approaches, but by now he knew enough of the other half of the sky to understand such things.

"I was looking for a place where having a nice dinner", he answered in a purposely neutral tone, having no intention to encourage her. Ellen's eyes didn't lose their charming expression:

"Any preferences, such as Italian, Mexican, Chinese, Japanese, Greek...?"

"Italian", Jarod decided, thinking once more of Erin. Damn, he had to get her out of his mind, or the thought of her would haunt him, and God knew he had already enough thoughts haunting him…

From under the desk, Ellen grabbed a city map and, after a short glance, pointed out a place:

"Here you'll find La Fattoria. I know the owner, Mario Ballardin: tell him that it's Ellen Fontaine sending you."

"Thank you, Ellen", said Jarod politely, taking the map she was handing him, "See you soon."

He walked out of the motel and got in the Corvette, pulling into the state road; shortly after, he parked near the restaurant Ellen had suggested him and walked in. Passing by a large glass door, he barely noticed that it was a gym, then a playbill caught his attention; he stopped to look better at it: beneath Chinese writings, illegible for him, a picture showed an old Chinese man in a pose he knew being kung fu tang lang style. A caption praised the virtues of this martial art, at least five-thousand years old. Once again, he thought of Erin.

Many years before, at the Centre, he had had a Master that had taught him kung fu. He was allowed to because he had become too restless and could focus no longer on the difficult mental exercises they submitted him, and therefore, Sydney had suggested the practice of a martial art that would help him finding a psycho-physical balance, essential to make him succeed in his Pretender skills. It worked, and Jarod had gone on practicing kung fu for many years, interchanging it with fitness and swimming.

Something lighted up in his mind and he suddenly knew that he would stay in Santa Lorita.

Monday, June 3rd, 09.00 a.m.

Erin De Rossi entered into the hall of her gym and Jean, as usual, welcomed her with a smile.

"Hi, Erin, how are you?"

"Fine, thanks, you too?" at her friend's nod, she went on, "The photos from Mexico will be ready before noon: what about going out to eat together, so I can show them to you? Lunch's on me. And at last I'll be able to tell you about that handsome and mysterious guy I met coming home…"

"Sure, gladly", Jean accepted, nodding, "But only if lunch's on me."

Erin rolled her eyes, pretending exasperation:

"Again?! Well, that's fine, I know I couldn't change your mind anyway, you can be as stubborn as a mule, or even more!"

The two women laughed, recalling an event, occurred a few years before, which had costed Jean a very poor figure and taught her that stubbornness isn't always a good thing.

A couple of hours later, Jean appeared on the door of her office; Erin noticed she was smiling with a vaguely idiotic expression on her face and her green eyes were shining in an unusual way.

"What's up, Jeanie?" she asked her, intrigued. Her friend came in and closed the door behind her.

"Out here there's the most handsome guy I've ever seen!" she cried, excited. Erin looked stealthily at her, puzzled: in the gym came and went dozens of fantastic guys, some of them could easily match the famous California Dream Men, and it was highly unusual that Jean got excited for someone.

"And who should he be, Brad Pitt?" she joked therefore, "Invite him for dinner!"

Jean threw back a copper-coloured curl that had fallen on her brow.

"You can bet I'll do it!" she snorted, "But meanwhile, going back to business, he's here to ask information about the kung fu course. As you know, I'm not much competent about martial arts, so I thought to have him speaking with you."

"Okay, let him in."

Jean returned to the hall and one moment later, she led in the room a tall and good-looking man. His gaze met Erin's, and the eyes of the two of them widened in amazement.

"Erin, this is Jarod O'Donnell", Jean introduced him, but her friend didn't even hear her, as she didn't notice her walking out of the office. She stayed there, just looking blankly at the man in front of her, while he looked as bewildered as her.

"I'll be darned!" Jarod finally breathed, "I can't believe it…"

"I can't believe it, either", Erin whispered, "It's unbelievable…"

Smarter than him, and used to deal with all sorts of people, in a few seconds she recovered from her shock and stood up, meeting him extending her hand and smiling broadly:

"This is a great surprise! Nice to meet you again, Jarod!"

"My pleasure", Jarod managed to say in an almost normal voice, too shocked even to smile. He held her hand a moment longer than needed… like he had done the first time he had met her, that is; and like the previous time, Erin felt goose bumps going up her arm, a feeling that thrilled her much, so much that she drew back her hand a little abruptly. From Jarod's gaze, she realised he was disappointed, so she sweetened her move with another smile, at the warmth of which Jarod felt like melting down.

They stared at each other for a few more moments, with a slightly dreamy expression, then Erin's mind returned to her and she moved back to her chair. She invited Jarod to take a seat on one of the chairs in front of her desk and said:

"So, what venture brings you here in Santa Lorita?"

"Venture is exactly the right word", Jarod answered, but as he was saying it, a voice in his head whispered insistently the word destiny, "I wasn't enthusiastic about stopping in a big town, I was looking for something more peaceful, so I took the car… and here I am."

"You bought a car?"

"Yeah, a Corvette."

"Hey, I adore Corvettes!" Erin smirked, reminding him of her passion for sports cars and motorcycles, "So you'll stop in Santa Lorita?" she inquired, forcing herself to ignore the hope that had risen, unstoppable, in the depths of her heart.

"Yes, at least for some time", Jarod answered, remaining vague by force of circumstances, "and in the meantime I'd like to refresh my kung fu."

"You didn't tell me you were a kung fu expert", she remarked, rising her eyebrows with a questioning look. Jarod grinned apologetically:

"I'm not very used to talk about myself."

Erin returned his smile, thinking that the self-restraint characterising him was a significant part of his charm, as well as the sadness often lingering in his eyes that made her crave to comfort him.

"I've noticed that", she said, in a slightly mocking tone, "Which style do you practice, and what is your rank?"

"Tang lang, shaolin and tai chi chuan", he answered her, "And I'm black belt."

Erin nodded:

"Our Master, Chung, teaches tang lang and tai chi. He'll be glad to welcome a student of such a high rank, in our school we are only five, now six with you."

They were quiet for a moment, as none knew what to say; Jarod broke the silence:

"When can I start?"

"Oh!" Erin jumped, as if somebody had thrown a bucketful of icy water at her, "Tonight, if you like to: at 8 o'clock there's the tang lang class for the black belts."

"Okay, I'll be there", Jarod said, standing up, "See you tonight."

He extended his hand and she shook it, careful her agitation didn't show, and then watched him going out, thinking that Jean was perfectly right: he really was the most handsome man who had ever come into her gym.

Her friend found her deep in thought.

"Earth to Erin!" she called, playfully, "You'd better come down again on the planet!"

Erin woke up from her daydream; her reaction didn't escape Jean's attentive eyes, and the younger woman connected the feeling she had while she was introducing the nice guy to her friend:

"Hey, don't tell me that you knew him before!"

"That's it, precisely, Jeanie", she confirmed, "Do you remember I hinted to at a guy I met, while coming back from my trip? Well, that's him!"

"What?" Jean cried astonished, widening her eyes, "But didn't he stop in San Francisco?"

"Yeah, but he told me that he doesn't like big towns, so he jumped on his car and, driving about, he ended up here… And in my gym! Isn't that crazy?"

"Indeed!" Jean confirmed, emphatically, "So will he attend the kung fu course? He didn't fill up the form…"

"My fault, I forgot to tell him to call for you for it", Erin admitted. Her friend giggled:

"If he affects you like this, I guess he drove your hormones crazy!"

Erin blushed like a schoolgirl, but forced herself to laugh, hiding her embarrassment:

"Maybe, Jean, maybe…"

OOO

Jarod was fairly confused; he went back to his car, knowing that he had to look for a sporting-goods store and get the clothes he needed for his new activity, but he was absent-minded and drove a while aimlessly.

For days, he couldn't help but thinking of Erin De Rossi, persuaded he would never see her again and regretting it bitterly. And then, all of a sudden, chance had driven him to meet her again.

Chance?

Or destiny?

The voice he had heard before, in Erin's office, whispered unceasingly that it wasn't a chance at all, that he and Erin had to meet again, had to stay together. In which way, he didn't know yet, but he was sure he would find out soon.

For sure, he could say that, from the moment he had seen her, he had barely mastered the urge to wrap his arms around her and kiss her soundly.

Putting aside those baffling thoughts, Jarod stopped at a gas station, filled up and asked for a sporting-goods store; he received directions for a mall just outside town, where he found the typical black kung fu kimono – short tunic with korean collar, closed by a number of frogs, and large pants with an elastic at the ankles – and the tai chi outfit, that differed from the kung fu one for the upper side, having a white shirt and an open black jacket, and no belt. He bought also suitable gym shoes and a sport bag.

Being almost lunchtime, he stopped at the Burger King in the mall, where he wolfed down a hamburger with chips, drinking a large glass of Sprite; finally, satisfied, he returned to the motel and waited impatiently for the evening.

OOO

It was almost noon and Jean had not yet seen Erin, so she decided to go and knock at her door, then opened it and peered in from the threshold. Her friend lifted a questioning look upon her.

"I'd like to remind you our date for lunch", Jean said.

"Is it time already?" Erin was amazed, "Good heavens, time passes quickly…"

She stood up, grabbed her purse and moved swiftly on. Jean looked at her askew as she passed her by, but did not comment.

They went to the photographer, where Erin collected her pictures from Mexico, then Jean took her friend to the Fujiyama, a Japanese restaurant were both loved going because of its excellent treats, especially sushi and sashimi.

Erin was a very good amateur photographer, and indeed she had captured a number of greatly evocative landscapes and picturesque happenings, such as a fiesta in a village on the Cortèz Sea and a colourful small outdoor market.

"I couldn't resist and bought a white eyelet cocktail dress", Erin told her friend, "with an ankle-long skirt, a neckline leaving bare shoulders, a tight bodice with strings and a red sash around the waist, a romantic and at the same time sexy style."

"I adore the way you dress since you lost weight", Jean asserted, "At last, you begin to highlight your shape."

"With twenty-two pounds overweight, there wasn't much to highlight!" Erin laughed, with the auto-irony she always possessed; it was true, as she was finally satisfied with her body, she had begun to dare miniskirts, slits and deep necklines she hadn't dared even as a girl, "Thanks, anyway."

Jean sipped at her cold green tea.

"So, don't you want to tell me about Jarod?" she asked her.

"Actually, I don't know much about him", Erin answered, "He told me he's an on-line software consultant, but I know neither where he comes from, nor if he has a family, if he's married or engaged… Even if it's not possible that such a handsome guy hasn't a woman, somewhere", she concluded, sighing.

Jean echoed her:

"You're right, the most interesting ones are nearly all engaged already."

The sushi arrived, and for a few minutes both busied themselves enjoying the taste of the little rice morsels, steam-boiled and stuffed with raw fish, dipping them in a very spicy green solid sauce called wasabi.

"Tell me about your first meeting", Jean pressed her on. Erin gave her a detailed report of the happenings on that Thursday night: the accident, the aid to the injured people, the police, and at last she inviting Jarod to continue the journey with her.

"I don't know what got into me, Jean", she admitted, still confused, "I know very well the risks a woman takes, on the road, alone with a stranger… But there was something in his eyes… honesty, decency, kindness, vulnerability… Well, he inspired me trust."

Jean recalled the impression she had had about Jarod that morning and couldn't help but agree with her friend.

"He doesn't inspire only trust", she said in a low voice and in an impudent tone, "but also sinful thoughts. If it wouldn't be plain that you like Jarod so much, I'd throw myself to him", she added cheekily, "So, what are you waiting for to do so yourself?"

Erin made a face.

"I don't know if I really like him…" she tried weakly, but Jean broke her off with a sharp gesture:

"Spare me, Erin! You talk about him like he's the archangel Gabriel. And if at last a man has been able to raise your interest, I'm not going to ruin things!"

Erin shut up: when Jean revealed her redhead temper, she had no other choice. But of course she knew, too, that her friend was perfectly right: she fancied Jarod, indeed. She wondered if she would ever have the guts to let him know it.

"I'd like being able to make the first move", she said, "Oh, Jean, why must I be so… old-fashioned? Why must I always wait that he makes a move?" she shook her head, "But that's not all, you know…"

Jean didn't insist: she knew this was a sensitive issue, which could sadden or fly her friend into a rage, according to her mood of the moment.

They finished lunch chatting about other things, then they went back to the gym. Perhaps because she had spoken openly with Jean, Erin could focus now enough to work all afternoon.

OOO

On the DSA screen, a boy around thirteen stood still in front of his instructor. On the lower left corner, a caption stated: Jarod, 05.16.1972, For Centre Use Only.

"Kung fu movements originate from the animal kingdom", the instructor was saying, a Chinese man of about forty years, "The bear's pawing, the tiger's move, the snake's dart, the religious mantis' dance, the dragon's power. Besides, each of us belongs to one of the five elements in which we divide the universe: air, water, fire, metal, wood. The belonging to one of these elements determines the way each of us fights: whirling like air, overpowering like water, flickering like fire, steady like metal, essential like wood. From what I've seen so far, Jarod, you belong of the air element..."

The adult Jarod who was watching the DSA smiled to himself: Master Fong had taught him much more than the simple performance of movements, because, thanks to him, Jarod had learned about the Tao, the great oriental philosophy based on the balance of every single thing in the universe.

"In every principle there is a tiny part of its opposite", said Fong, "In the deepest evil there is a little good, and in the brightest good, a little evil; in the deepest darkness there is a ray of light, and in the purest light, a ray of darkness. Everything in the universe exists because also his opposite exists: love and hate, compassion and cruelty, generosity and selfishness. That's why our symbol is composed of two parts of opposite colours that interpenetrate, and in each one there is a fragment of the other one..."

Jarod thought of Miss Parker, his childhood friend, the one who gave him his first kiss, the innocent kiss of two desperately lonely children. Now she had grown cold and merciless, but he knew that deep inside of her the sweet child still existed, that inside of her black look there was a white fragment. In the same way, he knew that deep inside of him, who considered himself white, there was a black fragment, from which he drew when he punished the wicked people who had committed their evil tricks on an innocent he had chosen to defend. Yes, Fong was right asserting that nothing is completely good, and nothing is completely evil.

Slowly, Jarod turned off the DSA and closed the metallic suitcase containing it; he had examined all the disks regarding Fong's lessons, wanting to recall every single detail that could be useful to introduce himself as a black belt in a believable way. Many years had passed since he practiced, except a few occasions when he had to defend himself from an aggressor, and as a matter of fact, he never achieved officially that rank, but he knew he was up to it. He had to, if he wanted to have the opportunity to be with Erin…

OOO

It was 7.50 p.m. when Erin set foot in the large, wooden floored room, where the martial art classes took place: besides kung fu, there was karate, judo and kendo, taking turns in different days and hours, divided into higher and lower belts.

Almost all students of the advanced class were already there; waiting Master Chung's arrival, the students had already begun with the warm-up exercises and Erin joined in. Five minutes later, Jarod O'Donnell entered and Erin, who perhaps not completely casually was looking toward the door, felt her heart jump. Calm down! she ordered herself, annoyed, Don't drool like a teen-ager in hormonal rage!

Jarod glanced around in the room and his eyes met Erin's. Thinking she was pretty with the soft braid, low on her nape, at least as much as with loose hair, he flashed her a smile, which she returned warmly. Jarod felt his knees turning into jelly.

Erin called for her classmates' attention:

"Guys, I'd like to introduce a new student", she pointed at him, smiling, "Jarod O'Donnell. Jarod, meet John Night-Eagle Dorner…"

John was a Native American, not very tall and with a skinny look that very soon Jarod would discover as misleading. Then there was Bill MacKinley, whom all called Mac, very big but astoundingly nimble, and two young black men, Pat and Nick Shoults. Each of them welcomed Jarod with the traditional kung fu salute: little bow with straight back, gaze lifted to the interlocutor, right hand in a fist held in the left at chin-height.

Master Chung, on time as usual, came into the room. Everybody lined up in front of him and bowed solemnly, returned with the same solemnity.

Erin, as both the gym owner and the highest ranked student, stepped forward:

"Master, let me introduce to you a new student: Jarod O'Donnell."

The small Chinese man turned a piercing but gentle gaze on the newcomer and smiled at him:

"Welcome, Jarod."

Jarod bowed again, feeling a sudden liking for this small man, whose skin was as dark and worn as an old parchment:

"Thank you, Master. I'm honoured to meet you."

To evaluate his style and level, in the following half-an-hour Chung trusted Erin with the other students and examined Jarod, who produced several tang lang forms, which are imaginary fights like karate's kata, earning the Master's approval.

"I suppose you'd like to see now something of the style of my school", Chung suggested, and at Jarod's nod he called Pat Shoults and Mac, who upon his request performed a promised fight, which is a fight with predetermined moves, of great dexterity and very spectacular, using the former a sword and the latter a halberd, of course both with no edge and with covered points. Then John Night-Eagle showed a difficult form with the meteor-hammer, a steel weight tied to a long silky ribbon, manoeuvring it with the elegance of a jazz-gym athlete. Lastly, Chung asked Erin and Nick Shoults to show Jarod a very unusual promised fight: sword against fans. Of course, the silky fans had a secret: steel ribs, which originally would be sharp like razors, an unexpected and perfect weapon for a fake court lady.

Watching carefully the way she moved, Jarod attributed to Erin the water element: adaptable and flexible, it slips through any gap and goes its way, slow or swift according to the circumstances, but always unstoppable.

In the final half-an-hour lesson of ninety minutes, Chung began to teach Jarod an advanced form that the newcomer didn't know, while the others, under Erin's supervision, went on with their normal training.

As the lesson came to an end, the students saluted the Master with the ritual bow and Chung dismissed them. All went to change in the males' dressing room, except Erin who used her private room. When she came to the hall, Jean inquired immediately:

"So, how was Jarod?"

"You mean, beyond the fact that he's really the most handsome guy who's ever been in here?" Erin mocked her. Jean put on a fake offended expression, and her friend chuckled:

"Except this, I must admit he did truly fine. Happy now?"

Jean watched her stealthily: there was something in her friend she hadn't seen for a long, long time. She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could do so, the subject of their conversation showed up.

"Well, I hope you like me", he said smiling, talking to Erin. Jean looked askance at him, too, with different eyes than in the morning, when she had been too taken by his fine appearance and hadn't noticed anything else. She found in him, too, that something she had just seen in Erin, and a light went on in her smart mind.

Erin felt her heart thumping hard at the words I hope you like me, and for a minute, she felt lost: did he figure it all out? Then she thought she was an idiot: what was going on with her, jumping like this for a sentence, besides spoken by someone who was almost a perfect stranger to her? But the point was exactly this: Jarod O'Donnell felt not at all a stranger to her, and the feeling was very weird, almost alarming. Anyway, she told firmly to herself, he was speaking surely about his athletic skills.

"I'd say so", she declared, a little evasive but sweetening the sentence with a smile, "But perhaps the most demanding test will be tomorrow with the tai chi class, if you'd like to try also this style."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world", Jarod affirmed, "It's the style I prefer, for its gentle appearance that hides an absolutely deadly reality."

"That's right..."

Jean put suddenly on a totally neutral expression, not wanting to risk bursting into a loud laughter: it was a long time she hadn't seen love at first sight, and these two looked really like teen-agers at their first crush!

"You're very good", Jarod continued, "The form with the fans was outstanding."

Erin blushed like a schoolgirl and felt the impulse to run as fast as her legs could carry her.

"Thanks, but Master Chung is the one who deserves all the credit. Um, I must go now. Jean, please, can you close up the gym, tonight? Jarod, see you tomorrow night at eight o'clock", Erin took her leave, "Good night."

With a parting nod to both Jean and Jarod, she whipped around and literally escaped, resorting to all her self-control for not bolting.

Jarod stood there as if frozen, watching her going away with a totally lost look on his attractive face. Erin had reacted as if she was running in front of a horde of demons, and he wondered mortified what he could possibly had done to her. He decided to ask Jean:

"Do you think she doesn't like me?"

The girl put back in place an unruly copper curl, which as usual had fallen on her brow.

"Oh, talking about that, I think she likes you more than she knows herself", she answered in a sharp tone, "but I warn you: she suffered in a horrible way, and if you want to mess around with her, you'll have to face me, kung fu expert or not."

Jarod was flabbergasted. He hadn't guessed that the attraction he felt for Erin would be so evident, and surely he didn't expect such a reaction from Jean, whom he didn't know at all; but he realised that it originated from a sincere friendship, so he decided to play it straight:

"I have no intention to mess around with her. I don't know the reason, but I feel that Erin is very important to me", he explained, "She's very lucky to have a friend like you", he added.

"I am lucky to have a friend like her", Jean replied, still mistrustful, "I warned you."

"And I got it", he assured her, solemnly.

Jean did believe him.

Tuesday, June 4th, 08.00 p.m.

Punctual, all the tai chi chuan class students stood in a line in front of Master Chung. Only four people were there, because the two Shoults brothers didn't have yet passed the examination for the black belt rank in this style.

Once more, Chung wanted to examine Jarod in order to verify the level of his knowledge and again he was favourably impressed. Because Jarod lacked one form, he trusted him to Erin to teach him, while he devoted himself to the other two students, John and Mac.

Jarod was enthusiastic of Erin's skills as a teacher: she was very careful and exhaustive in her explanations, and it was plain that she liked very much what she was doing. From her part, Erin found in Jarod a very talented student, with a great ease in learning, so that she had rarely to repeat a movement more than once before he could reproduce it perfectly. At the end of the ninety minutes, she had been able to teach him almost the half of the form, which normally required at least eight complete lessons.

"You have an incredible talent", she told him sincerely, "I've never found someone who learns so quickly and well."

"Thank you", Jarod replied shortly – he couldn't obviously tell her about his Pretender skills, "But credit is on the teacher."

She smiled, flattered, but because of her natural humbleness, she dismissed it with a coy gesture. But Jarod wasn't deceived: Erin had exceptional skills, and he was sure her I.Q. had to be very high. To say nothing of her sex appeal… Even in the loose tai chi outfit hiding her beautiful silhouette, she was attractive and feminine like few women are. He had to admit the truth: he liked Erin, madly.