By Stephen J. Cannell
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Extra resources for At First Sight: A Novel of Obsession
Why did it always come down to these “no-choice” kinds of choices? Melissa, or the business? Nothing simple . . nothing easy. Melissa . . or years of my life down the drain with nothing to show for it? So of course I went to New York. I had no choice. Biggest mistake of my life. C H A P T E R 7 I TOOK THE RED-EYE. The weather in New York was dismal. A bone-chilling sleet washed the city, falling from a gunmetal sky. My Jamaican taxi driver couldn’t speak American English. ” This angry asshole sat in the front seat of his paint-chipped yellow cab, looking back at me through dirty braids, his Rasta beads clicking ominously every time he moved his head.
More and more, I find myself thinking about divorce. The beach was beautiful. A light breeze rippled the water. Up by the pool the air was as still as Texas hair. I had one of the beach boys get me a chair and I dragged it to a spot where I could watch my goddess and Chandler, who I knew had to be using some kind of lightener to get that color on his copper curls. Then one of those fortuitous things occurred that you pray for but in real life almost never seem to happen. It started when Chandler went up to get the two of them another drink, and my goddess decided to go swimming.
Chandler loomed over me. I looked up. He was holding out his whole hand this time. “Paige told me what you did . . ” Paige . . my goddess was named Paige. There was perfection in those five letters. I had saved somebody named Paige AT F I R S T S I G H T 31 from a desperate shark attack, an atrocious mauling in the jaws of death. It turned out later that nobody had actually seen a shark. The guy on the beach who had yelled admitted that he’d only thought he’d seen one. But, nonetheless, there could have been one, and I did offer myself as a human sacrifice to protect her, so come on, fair’s fair.
At First Sight: A Novel of Obsession by Stephen J. Cannell