Romance Novel, part 2

Great meeting last night! Bob, you have to do something with that last piece you wrote. It was awesome. As Jenny said, shine it up and send it off, and don't do too much shining. Here's more of Anneke's Legacy:

Ten days later Lucia felt the soft Caribbean night air seep into the over air conditioned cabin of the airliner that had just landed her and a group of happy vacationers at Flamingo Airport on Bonaire. She had watched from her first class seat when she boarded the red eye flight in Houston as smiling face after smiling face got on and turned to find their seats in coach. She had her laptop close at hand and a glass of wine to sip as the jetliner took off into the dark Texas sky. She had spent the majority of the flight bent over her computer, working on a manuscript that was due to be published later that year if only she could convince the reluctant author to consider her recommended changes. Most of her fellow passengers slept away the four-hour flight time but Lucia only dozed.

Dawn was over an hour away when she stepped off the boarding steps onto the tarmac. Groggy passengers followed her toward the brightly lit pink-painted building that looked exactly like an island airport should. Lucia was first in line at the Immigration counter. She answered the agent’s question about the purpose of her visit with, “I have business.” And she glared at the friendly agent behind the counter when he commented that a woman as pretty as Lucia was shouldn’t forget to have a little fun too.

It seemed to take forever for the baggage to be brought from the plane to the terminal but the customs agents seemed to be more interested in the mound of boxes accompanying a local man than the tourist’s belongings. Most of the other passengers seemed to be divers and were either scooped up by resort vans or rental car agents groggily holding up clipboards with names scrawled in black magic marker on sheets of paper.

Lucia stood arms folded across her chest and one toe tapping. Pietr Smit had said he would be there to meet her but none of the people at the airport appeared to be looking for her. By the time the last passenger, the local man with the excess of boxes, pushed his overloaded cart out of the arrival area all of the taxis and resort vans had gone. She could see a few couples still leaning against their luggage in the area in front of the car rental kiosks. Well, what had happened to Mr. Smit, she wondered, and why hadn’t he sent word that she would need to get her own transport?

Just as she was about to turn to the Security office and ask the agent inside to call her a cab, a local man who she had noticed leaning against the door of a pickup truck across from the arrival area straightened up and started toward her. As he neared he said, “Ms. Vandersteeg?”

Lucia looked him up and down. He looked to be in his middle thirties, about six feet tall, and in very good shape. His khaki shorts and chambray shirt were clean and well worn.

“Yes. Mr. Smit?”

The man stopped, put a hand on his hip and scratched his ear. “Ah, no, I am not Mr. Smit. Ah, Piet had a water heater roll over his leg yesterday and his ankle’s broken. He can’t drive. He asked me to pick you up.” He flashed a grin at her that never reached his eyes. “This all your luggage?” He indicated her small suitcase and carry on. At her nod he bent to pick them up but she stopped him by stepping in front of the bags.

“I’m sorry. Who did you say you were?” She folded her arms over her chest.

“Now I’m sorry, ma’am. I forgot my manners.” He wiped his dark brown hand on his shorts and held it out to her. “My name is Burke. Winfred Burke, but everyone just calls me Burke.”

Lucia felt her hand disappear into his large warm rough one. “How do you do, Mr. Burke.”

“Just Burke will do.”

“Mr. Burke, I am not in the habit of riding off into the night with strange men. Do you have anything from Mr. Smit introducing you?”

Burke shook his head. “Lady, you are now on an island that is sixteen miles by six miles. That’s not a lot of geography for getting lost in or for hiding in. We can drive by my mother’s house if you want a character reference, she should be awake, but I doubt if Pietr’s awake. I know they gave him some strong painkillers.” He waved a hand at his truck. “Now, I know this is not the kind of vehicle you’re probably used to riding in, but it’ll get you to your auntie’s house in good shape. I promise I’m not a kidnapper. Could we just go? Please? It’s getting late and I need to go to work.”

Realizing she didn’t have any options on this strange island she gave in and nodded.

“Finally,” Burke muttered as he leaned past her, picked up her bags and turned to carry them to his truck. He swung them over the side and into the bed, shoving aside a tangle of fishing poles that stuck up like a cluster of aerials behind the cab. He turned and saw her still standing on the airport side of the lane. “This is not a moat, princess, no crocodiles.” He took two steps and opened the front door of the truck for her. “Your chariot.”

Lucia stalked over and slid onto the seat. “Thank you, Mr. Burke.”

He slammed the door and she heard him as he walked around to his door. “Mr. Burke, Mr. Burke. I tell her to call me Burke but no she has to be all formal. Catch me doing anyone a favor again anytime soon.” He pulled open the driver’s door and flashed her a patently fake smile that looked a lot more like a grimace.

See you later! I'm going to rewrite more Horizon today. Cross my heart.
--Barbara