I feel more like a battleground, she typed. Rough morning.
He typed back lol, laughing out loud. Same here. Okay. Shall we slay Alliance until our blades are no longer thirsty?
She laughed back. That sounds very nice.
* * *
A COUPLE OF hours of play, and she felt like a new woman. She signed off, told her friend good-night, had a light dinner and went to bed. She knew that she was hiding from life in her virtual playground,
but it was at least some sort of social life. In the real world, she had nothing.
* * *
SARA LOVED OPERA. The local opera house in San Antonio had been closed earlier in the year, although a new opera company was being founded. However, she had to have her opera fix. The only remaining one within reach was in Houston. It was a long drive, but the Houston Grand Opera was performing A Little Night Music. One of the songs was Send in the Clowns, her absolute favorite. She was a grown woman. She had a good car. There was no reason that she couldnt make the drive.
So she got in the Jaguar and took off, in plenty of time to make the curtain. Shed worry about coming home in the dark later.
She loved anything in the arts, including theater and symphony and ballet. She had tickets to the San Antonio Symphony and the San Antonio Ballet companies for the season. But tonight she was treating herself to this out-of-town spectacular performance.
She was looking at her program when she felt movement. She turned as a newcomer sat down, and she looked up into the pale, laughing eyes of her worst enemy in the world.
Oh, darn, was what she should have said. What she did say was far less conventional, and in Farsi.
Potty mouth, he returned under his breath in the same language.
She ground her teeth together, waiting for his next remark. Shed stomp on his big booted foot and march right out of the building if he said even one word.
But he was diverted by his beautiful companion before he could say anything else. Like the other woman Sara had seen him with, at another performance, this one was a gorgeous blonde. He didnt seem to like brunettes, which was certainly to Saras advantage.
Why in the world did he always have to sit next to her? She almost groaned. She bought her tickets weeks in advance. Presumably so did he. So how did they manage to sit together, not only in San Antonio at every single event she attended, but in Houston, too? Next time, she promised herself, shed wait to see where he was sitting before she sat down. Since the seats were numbered, however, that might pose a problem.
The orchestra began tuning its instruments. Minutes later, the curtain rose. As the brilliant Stephen Sondheim score progressed, and dancers performing majestic waltzes floated across the stage, Sara thought shed landed in heaven. She remembered waltzes like this at an event in Austria. Shed danced with a silver-haired gentleman, an acquaintance of their tour guide, who waltzed divinely. Although she traveled alone, shed shared sights like this with other people, most of them elderly. Sara didnt do singles tours, because she wanted nothing to do with men. Shed seen the world, but with Gabriel or senior citizens.
She drank in the exquisite score, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the song that was one of the most beautiful ever written, Send in the Clowns.
* * *
INTERMISSION CAME, BUT she didnt budge. Wolfs companion left, but he didnt.
You like opera, dont you? he asked her, his eyes suddenly intent on her, drinking in her long black hair and the black dress that fit her like a glove with its discreet bodice and cape sleeves. Her leather coat was behind her in the seat, because the theater was warm.
Yes, she said, waiting with gritted teeth for what she expected to follow.
The baritone is quite good, he added, crossing one long leg. He came here from the Met. He said New York City was getting to him. He wanted to live somewhere with less traffic.
Yes, I read that.
His eyes were on her hands. She had them in her lap, with a death grip on her small purse, her nails digging into the leather. She didnt seem to have a care in the world, but she was wired like floodlights.
You came alone?
She just nodded.
Its a long way to Houston, and its night.
I did notice.
Last time, in San Antonio, it was with your brother and your ward, he recalled. His eyes narrowed. No men. Ever?
She didnt reply. In her hands, the purse was taking a beating.
To her shock, one big, beautiful, lean hand went to her long fingers and smoothed over them gently.
Dont, he said tersely.
She bit her lip and looked up at him unguardedly, with the anguish of years past in her beautiful dark eyes.
He caught his breath. What the hell happened to you? he asked under his breath.
She jerked her hands away, got to her feet, put on her coat and walked out the door. She was in tears by the time she reached her car.
* * *
IT WAS SO UNFAIR. She hadnt had a flat tire in years. She had to have one tonight, of all nights, on a dark street in a strange city many miles from her San Antonio apartment. When Gabriel and