Stranger on a Train

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: December 26, 2016

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Submitted: December 26, 2016

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It was far more than a nice train. I looked around my private cabin, admiring the beautiful dark cherry wood surrounding me. My seat was genuine black leather and the carpet was so plush, I'd taken my boots off so not to mess it up. Still taken back with the elegance of it all, I looked down at the ticket in my hand.

I'd never won anything in my life before. "Chance of a LIFETIME!" the invitation had proclaimed. It had been addressed to me, no return address, and couldn't have come at a better time. I had just lost my job at the diner and came home to find my boyfriend in bed with my neighbor. So when the mysterious invite came in the mail the next day, I jumped on it.

"Fancy seeing you again." His voice was deep and unfamiliar, but I knew exactly who it was. Earlier that day, I had been sitting on an old wooden bench waiting to board this train. Book in hand, I had felt the burn of his gaze on me...the same burn I felt now.

Slowly, I turned around in my seat and there he was, standing in the doorway. He was ruggedly handsome, his physique only slightly hidden under a pair of stylish blue jeans and white button-up shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing strong, deeply tanned arms. A thin gold chain hung around his neck, the bottom neatly tucked into his open collar.

I willed my eyes to meet his gaze. His striking black hair was tousled over his forehead and he was wearing the same sly half-smile from earlier. Yet even more alluring were his piercing blue eyes. Oh, those eyes. They froze and melted me all at once.

"Yes, um," the words felt like molasses in my mouth, "I saw you back at the station." He smiled at me and moved closer. "Would you care to join me for a drink at the bar? I have been told I make excellent company." I noticed he had a slight accent --- Spanish maybe? --- that just rolled off his tongue. He held out his hand and I hesitated, only for a moment, before nodding and taking it. My mind raced and I felt my heart pounding in my chest as the stranger led me down the corridor of the sleeper. Most of the other passengers had their doors closed; I could just make out the silhouettes through shaded windows. We walked through the dining car and as we passed through the vestibule toward the lounge, I paused.

"Oh! I left my, uh, wallet back in the cabin," I said glancing down at my feet. He looked at my socks -- they were bright orange with turquoise polka dots -- and let out a light-hearted laugh. I could feel my cheeks burning. "Drinks are on the house, beautiful," he bent and gave my hand a light peck, "And don't worry, the owner of the train will not mind if you forget the shoes." I smiled and relaxed a little.

We moved through the lounge and settled into a comfortably large booth. I looked around in disbelief. The long bar and leather booths were trimmed in resplendent wood carvings, the walls adorned with golden ornaments and dim lantern sconces. An impeccably dressed waiter greeted us and took the stranger's order: a bottle of red wine from Napa Valley.

He looked at me with those dark blue eyes; I felt entranced. I thought about asking him his name but quickly dismissed the notion. I don't know why but not knowing seemed to thrill me.

More to come...


© Copyright 2017 JP Gemma. All rights reserved.

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