I heard a crescendo of waves pound the shoreline. It was an opus I had not heard in years. The delicious taste of briny sea breeze floating over my parted lips beckoned me to open my eyes to the day. But I refused to end such a peaceful dream only to return to my hustle and bustle life in the stifling sour air of Down Town Dallas. Besides, if I woke, all I had to look forward to was a massive hangover. The night before I had a one woman party in my living room, my only guest was a rather large bottle of Grey Goose I managed to half drain.
I remember passing out on the couch with the bottle neck still in my hand. After several martinis I decided to forgo the glass so that the bottle and I could become more acquainted. No, waking was not an option. Instead, I was content to lie there dreaming, feasting on the air as I listened to the symphony of the day.
"Not home!"
My voice rang in my head as my eyes popped open and darted about the strange sunlit room. I had never seen this place before. It was the most elegant room I had ever been in. It could swallow my small apartment whole. Sitting up slowly I could see I was in the center of the room on a huge mahogany canopy bed draped with translucent voile pouring onto the floor below. The room was decorated in a sort of avant-garde Victorian style. Its trappings giving way to an old world ensnared in modern day aesthetic. Everything in the room was colored a different shade of white, except for two blood red velveteen chaises sitting in what seemed to be a reading nook next to an open set of glass double doors looking out on an impossibly beautiful ocean.
"There is no coastline in Dallas ..."
As my sleep heavy voice croaked out of my mouth I knew it was going to be a very bad day. I crept off of the bed through a slit in the voile and made to go out the room door when I heard a silky Italian accented voice slide from the direction of the balcony.
"You are awake ..."
It was not a question, and though it sounded like a simple statement, I heard a warning in it. I stopped in my tracks not turning around, not speaking a word. My heart pounded in my chest as the pain of excessive drink clouded my mind so that I could not think clearly enough to formulate a plan much less words.
"How do you feel Sweet Heart? I have sent for some medication for your head, should you need it."
"Who are you?" My voice shook as I tried to sound unafraid.
"You were ... quite drunk last night Love. I think we ought to keep breakfast light this morning ..."
"Where am I?"
I began to inch towards the door again as I posed my question. I did not hear him move to stop me. Not really interested in his answer, I continued to move while I waited for him to speak.
"Nicoletta ..."
He paused as did I at hearing my name on his lips. Terrified I rounded on him. I had to see who this man is. A man who removed me from my home and knew my name ... yet I had no recollection about his identity.
"Come away from the door Dove. You cannot leave this room, not now."
"Bullshit!" I spat with too much enthusiasm for my condition. My head reeled with pain, but I didn't care. I had to get away from this man ... this strange man who knew too much. I went for the door handle, pressed the leaver and it gave. I wondered why he was still by the balcony for a second, why he had not come at me when all of the sudden I felt hot breath on the back of my neck.
"Close the door Nicoletta ... Now."
When I did not move to open the door further, or to push it closed, he placed a well manicured, large hand on the door with grace I had only seen while people moved underwater. Then without exerting much force, from what I could tell, he slammed it ripping the handle out of my grip. We were both still for what seemed like an eternity. My breath came fast and hard as my head pounded. At this point I could not be sure how much fear to attribute to the pain, and how much of it was just my hangover. He had me caged between his arms now with both of his palms pressed to the door. I turned to him, but I could not look at his face.
"What do you want with me?
"Your perfume of vodka assaults my senses Nicoletta ... I want you to go into the washroom and shower."
I could feel him staring at me from above. He was frighteningly tall. I trembled like a lap dog ready to pee himself in the face of utter terror. He dropped his right arm to allow me to pass him, but I could not move. Fear kept my feet anchored to the floor. As I looked down I noticed that he had navy silk pajamas on. His feet did not even twitch as we stood there ... him waiting for me ... and me counting each precious second. As each passed I could not help but to wonder if it would be my last.
