Chapter Five

Present Day
Soho, New York

Behind the huge mahogany desk, Jon sat in the darkness of his study, his chair turned to face the picture window behind the desk. The lights of the city twinkled inside the frame of the window. The silence in the apartment was deafening. It was always like this when the kids weren't there. And the silence usually led him to those dark places he went to sometimes, but not tonight.

Tonight his mind was racing with questions. Questions he'd been asking himself for a week. A whole week. Even with the number of staff members he had working on the puzzle, he still didn't have any answers. It had been seven whole days since he'd seen her standing on that porch in Red Bank, and still he wondered where she'd been the last twenty years.

There had been many times over the two decades since he'd last held her that she'd crossed his mind. Mostly, it was the night that they'd argued that haunted him. He'd been doing research on what he'd considered a handicap, and he'd found out about an implant that would in essence make her able to hear again. It had been a little complicated for him to understand, but basically it would've had a receiver in her brain that would've translated signals sent to it from a transmitter behind her ear and the signal would be sent and interpreted by nerves and she would be able to understand sounds. He'd been completely astonished when she'd blown up. She'd railed at him about how she wasn't broken, that there was no need to 'fix' her. She'd told him through tears that there was no way she'd allow a doctor to cut on her with a knife just to satisfy him.

The argument had gotten very heated, with him trying to convince her that he didn't see her as 'broken', but still wanted her to be able to hear. She had railed and cried, demanding to know why he didn't think she was good enough like she was. He'd finally stormed out of her apartment in frustration, and when he'd went back the next day to try and talk to her again, she'd been gone. No note, no forwarding address, nothing. He'd tried to look for her, but that's when he'd realized that even though she'd allowed him to make love to her, she'd never really let him into her life. He had met Cam, but didn't know where to find the woman, other than the theater. That had turned out to be a dead end. Everyone there had pretended ignorance when he'd visited there. They hadn't just pretended not to know Cam; they'd pretended not to understand him.

Although, he knew how she smelled, could see every slope and plain of her body when he closed his eyes, knew what made her laugh, and what made her cry, he realized that he didn't really know anything about her. At least nothing important. Nothing that would've helped him find her.

He'd finally given up, moved on with his life, and settled down with his high school sweetheart, but green eyes with that strange yellow starburst in the center still haunted his dreams.

Jon wanted to go to the house where he'd found her again, barge up into the damn place and demand the answers he sought, demand that she love him, like she had back then. Unconditionally. She'd told him that she'd never let him go. She'd lied.

And it had damn near killed him.

He had just wanted her to be able to hear him sing a love song to her. A song he'd written for her. How had that translated into her being 'broken'? He'd said that he wanted to give her the moon and the stars. She'd argued that she just wanted him and the moon and stars could stay in the sky. He'd been fascinated that when she lost her temper, she not only railed at him with her voice but her hands and arms had spoke as well. Her emotions caused her to use sign language even with someone like him who didn't understand a lot of it. He'd learned a few things.

He'd been able to tell her he loved her in sign.

It had meant the world to her that he'd cared enough to learn how to tell her in her language. He could still see her eyes pooling with unshed tears as she kissed his face all over saying those three words back to him. Over and over and over.

He took another sip of his wine. It was going to be a long night. Just him and his memories. He'd spent a lot of nights like this. How many more would he have to spend reliving moments better left buried?



Two nights later, Jon caught a break. Funny thing that it should be Richie that discovered something about Kimber, when his axeman didn't even know that he was trying to find out information about her. The call on his cell phone came just as he was getting in the shower, but knowing it was Rich from the ringtone, he'd jerked it up anyway.

"Yeah, man. What's up?"

"What? No, hello Rich, how ya been?" the guitarist laughed.

"Fuck you, Rich. I was about to get a shower. Can we break this down into just a couple of sentences?"

"You mean you're naked? Shit man, call me back when you have clothes on. I certainly don't want that image burned in my brain."

"Damn it, Rich, what in the hell did you call for?"

"Remember the little bartender from the eighties that you had it so bad for? You'll never guess what she's doing now," Richie replied. "But if ya wanna know, c'mon down to a place called Tramp's. It's on Oak Street in Red Bank."

"What the fuck are you doing down there?" Jon asked.

"Came down here to play with some friends. You wanna see her, you better get that narrow ass of yours in gear, man."

"I'll be right there," Jon told him as he hung up the phone.

He hadn't taken a shower that fast since those after show showers in the eighties. When he'd grabbed his keys and left the apartment his hair was still wet and just combed back out of his face. He didn't want to waste a single second, hoping to catch her before she left the bar.



It was another hopping night behind the bar at Tramp's. Kimber had owned this bar for five years now. She'd been so damned happy to get sole custody of the place, along with the return of her maiden name when the divorce had been finalized. The judge had seen it as fitting justice considering she'd saved up the money to buy the place working on that cruise ship, even if she hadn't bought the place until after she'd married Joey.

Joey had been her next door neighbor growing up. He'd always been the one her dad wanted her to marry. So, when Jon broke her heart, she'd ran off and taken the bartending job on the cruise ship that she'd been offered. Joey was working on the ship and had put in a good word for her. They'd worked together for several months before she finally gave in to her father's wishes and married Joey. She should've known it wouldn't last forever though, because her dad loved Joey way more than she did. Joey was like the son he'd never had.

She'd seen Richie when he walked in the door. Hell, he was still hard to miss, even after all these years. The dark headed guitarist was still the hottest man in the place. That is until his best friend walked through the door. Kimber was kicking herself in the ass for not disappearing once she'd seen Richie. She should've known that Jon wouldn't be too far behind.

He'd walked in the door scanning the place with that million watt smile on his face, and she wanted to run, but she'd be damned if she let him run her out of her own fucking bar! Doing her best to ignore him, she kept right on working, making a pina colada for a lady in pink, then moving on to grab a long neck from the barrel of ice by the bottom, twirling it around and across the back of her hand so that she held the bottle right side up and slammed it down on the bar in front of a mountain of a man in a tight black t-shirt. But, she watched Jon out of the corner of her eye the whole time. He still looked good. His hair was shorter now, and even with the leather jacket he had on, she could tell he had a lot more muscle on him now. His blue eyes still twinkled with a devilish glint every time he smiled. And that ass. Damn, it should be against the law to wear jeans that tight if you had an ass like that.

Jon scanned the room as he walked in the door, nodding at Richie when his eyes met his friend's, then moved on until they came to rest on Kimber behind the bar. He calmly walked up and took the only remaining stool at her end of the gleaming mahogany surface.

She still looked good. Long chocolate brown tresses hung down her back, tight denim clung to the curves of her ass, and her t-shirt said 'You're funny, but looks aren't everything'. He smiled; she was the same old Kimber. Then he noticed her feet. She had on tennis shoes. Odd. She'd always worked barefoot before.

He had to give her credit. She could've avoided him altogether and sent someone else to wait on him, but she didn't.

"What'll you have, rock star?" she asked. There was something different about her voice. He'd noticed it on Halloween, but he still couldn't quite put his finger on what was wrong about it.

"You," he answered softly.

"I see you're still using the same old bullshit lines," she told him. "Wonder what your wife'd say about that."

"She really can't say too much, since we're divorced," he told her.

"Oh, so she got tired of your tired lines too, huh?"

"Not exactly," he answered.

"What'll you have to drink?" she asked, stressing the last two words, and not wanting to get into the facts of his love life with him.

"A jack and coke, on the rocks," he replied, careful to make sure she was looking at him when he spoke.

Jon watched her twirl the bottle of Jack Daniels around her hand then throw it behind her back catching it with her other hand at her still slender waist before bringing it around to splash some in a glass, then with equal flair she added two fingers of Coke and slid the glass towards him.

"How've you been?" he asked before she could walk away.

"Just peachy," she answered, her voice heavy with sarcasm.

She turned to walk away, but he grabbed her wrist before she could make a clean getaway. She spun back to face him, but didn't say anything just glared at his fingers wrapped around her wrists.

"Still don't like to have your space invaded I see," he said softly.

"Especially not by the likes of you," she quipped frostily.

Jon reluctantly released her. It was only once she was several feet away from him making a margarita for a plump woman in a red sweater that he realized she hadn't been looking at him when he'd spoke to her, but she'd still been able to answer him. What the hell?

Recognizing Tommy when he stepped up to the bar and rang a huge bell, Jon smiled. It must be show time.

"Bar's closed," Tommy announced into the silence that remained after the bell quit clanging.

Then the man took Kimber's hand and helped her climb up on the bar. Blue eyes met green across the crowd, the yellow starbursts seeming bigger as she gave him an evil grin. Aw, fuck.

"He came waltzing in
with that big old grin
like he owned the damn place."

She waved her hand in Jon's direction, and he knew he was in trouble.

"He expected me
to fall at his feet
with a big ol' smile on my face.

I'll have to show the jerk
that's not how I work
even though we've been there before.

He can spend hours
just sending me flowers
and jewelry and chocolates galore.

But I just have to say
it's not a very lucky day
for this blast from my past.

So, please move over
so I can bend over,
and he can just kiss my ass.

Bar's Open!"