Episode 2: The Man From The Train

Episode 1: The Man from the Train
by Toni Walker

Suzanne "Zan" O'Neill carried her tray of drinks, wandering around the pulsing red and amber lights of Infrared, the hottest nightspot in Park Ridge. Their little berg wasn't much, but it did have quite a bit of the night life happening. And Zan was grateful for the extra money.


She smiled at the patrons, handing them drinks and collecting money. This wasn't her usual gig. It was an event for charity, but still way out of her league. It was more along the lines of something her best friend, Avery Ashton would attend. Black tie. Fancy silk dresses that cost a mint. And a cover charge so large it would take her three weeks salary to pay for it.


Infrared was Thom Masters's club, and she owed him for introducing her to his brother Jesse, who owned Masters Outfitters. When was wasn't helping Caroline Ashton at the Midnight Cafe, she was hiking, biking and generally enjoying the outdoors -- plus, she got paid for it, which was the kicker.


Zan tried to keep a straight face when she bumped into yet another customer. These heels were killing her. Her kingdom for flats. Thom breezed up behind her and smiled his winning grin.
"Darling, serve the drinks, don't make the patrons wear them." Thom was, as usual, the best dressed man in the building. He could make anything look like straight off the cat walk fashion. She doubted his entire outfit cost more than a few bucks. The man could give lessons on how to make yourself look like a million bucks on a budget.


"I'm sorry, Thom. It's these damn red glasses," Zan wasn't going to complain about the heels. Thom had paid for them and she was grateful. She pulled the glasses off her face. "It's so dark in here, that when I put them on, I can't see a thing." Which was true. She wasn't exactly fibbing.


"Poor baby! It's the price we must pay for fashion."


Zan threw him an annoyed expression.


"Oh, all right. Either push them up into your hair to show off those gorgeous cheekbones or hang them so they hang between your boom-booms." Thom didn't say breasts. It was like a fashion faux pax, at least, to him, anyway.


Zan began to push the red-lense glasses atop her head when Thom came closer and whispered in her ear. "Cheekbones are a dime a dozen, hon. But I haven't seen one man tonight miss those boom-booms. Go on, give the straight boys a thrill." He waved, smiled and them melted into the crowd to mingle.


Wade Bolton sashayed up to Zan. The red designer sunglasses looked picture perfect on her. In fact, everything looked perfect on her. She was holding her own tray of drinks. Her pixie-ish hair made her look like an angel, but her outfit made her look like a call girl. Wade's personality was somewhere in between.
"It's a crime that man is gay. Just give me one night and I'll make him a changed man." She smiled devilishly and winked at Zan. "Don't tell me you haven't thought the exact same thing."


"Actually, I haven't."


"You wouldn't," Wade sighed. "It's that guy, isn't it? The one you met while on vacation in California? You're still pining for him, aren't you?" Wade was such a blabbermouth. She never should have told her about the man from the train. She didn't even know his name. It was just that during the short time they'd talked, it felt like she'd finally found her soul's mate. She knew it sounded corny, but it was how she felt.


"There was never anything between us. Just a lot of wishful thinking."


"You need to grab the bull by the horns once in awhile. Shed those angel wings, girlfriend! It's perfectly okay to be naughty!" Wade refreshed her tray and disappeared back into the crowd.
Thom reappeared next to Zan. "You should take her advice, you know."


"Not you too?"


"Someone has to drop kick you back into the real world," Thom said, as he eyed a potential date across the room. "And I'm just the man to do it." He adjusted his tie and slicked back his cowlick, ready for the prowl. "Tell me. How's my butt look? Lickable?"


Zan couldn't answer. She didn't know whether to laugh or blush. Thom didn't wait for her response. He had other man-sized things on his mind.


Hannah Kincaide walked past Thom and sized him up. She was carrying around an aged guitar, sporting Farrah hair and wearing Daisy Dukes. Hannah was only twenty-two but still lived in the seventies. While fashion trends moved on, she remained rooted to the familiar. Her parents were flower children.


She was a local musician and probably had one of the best voices in the county. While she sang Alison Krauss and Union Station cover songs, she pretended to be watching Dakota, a pint sized pip squeak who hung out backstage. She was only six, and smart as a whip.


Zan ended up watching Dakota half the time.


She was sure when Dakota's parents came back from out of town, things would go back to normal.


Hannah smiled at Zan. "Does that man ever have a bad anything day?" She placed the guitar strap over her head and waved at Dakota.


"Doesn't seem fair, does it? Break a leg or a vocal chord. Or whatever it is you musicians do."
Hannah laughed and her voice tinkled like a bell. "Thanks, hon! Watch Dakota for me, will ya? Her grandmother had some important event tonight. Let's just hope to God it wasn't this even otherwise, I'm busted big time."


Zan nodded and headed backstage while Hannah prepared for her next set.


It was darker in the wings, but it was easy to find Dakota. She was a bright and happy child who drew as many adults to her as kids.


"Hi, Zan!" Dakota said, welcoming her to the group.


"Hello yourself. What's going on back here?"


The lighting technician and the stage hand looked up guiltily at Zan, both holding five playing cards.


"Hit me," Dakota said, and then asked for three cards. She smirked when she brought them into her hand. A minute later she pushed a pile of M&Ms into the center of the table along with a pile of other candy. "This is for all the moolah. Make your choices carefully."


The kid was a born hustler.


The lighting tech and the stage hand glanced at each other, then Dakota. They both folded.


Dakota's smile brightened as she filled her backpack with a pile of sugary candy. "I win. I win."


"You always win." Zan turned over the five cards in Dakota's hand. Royal flush. "You need to work on that poker face, kid."


"Can I help it that I'm good?"


The strains of Hannah's guitar came over the monitors backstage. Zan and Dakota ran to the edge of the curtains. From the wings, they watched as the charity fashion show started. But it wasn't the fashion that held Zan's attention this night. It was the man who had just walked in the door.


Ruggedly handsome, blond and an outdoors type. Pure perfection in men's clothing.
It was the man from California. The one she'd met on the train.


Zan felt all the air rush out of her body. She swayed a bit, then suddenly collapsed.