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Deceived: A Case of Mistaken Identity

By Valerie Banfield

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Excerpt, Chapter 1.
Gina Brandt wiped the sweat from the outside of her plastic cup, now empty of a meager serving of bottled water, and patted the napkin against her damp forehead. When her stomach rose in tandem with the downward lurch of the airplane, she gripped the arm of the seat, inhaled deeply, and held her breath. The clear blue expanse beyond the tiny window suggested foul weather was not the cause of the bumpy ride. She rid her lungs of pent up air with a slow, deliberate exhale.

The promise of an uneventful flight grew more fleeting when the pilot cut the air conditioning, leaving the cabin muggy and rendering the passengers sweaty, their moods disagreeable. The attendants at the airport from which the twin-prop aircraft departed thirty minutes ago, were meticulous in measuring the combined weight of the checked baggage. Judging from the angry growl of the overtaxed engines, passengers well versed in Venezuelan travel rules likely weighed down their carry-on luggage to achieve their personal packing goals. Just as Gina had done.

Another barrel roll threatened to undo Gina’s breakfast, and forced her shoulder into the hard window casing. The edges of her tight lips fell into a predictable frown. She would be the first to concede that she hadn’t earned the lines around her mouth with a perpetual smile. Not even.

The face of the well-dressed businessman in the adjacent seat took an ashen hue as he choked on his drink and swiped splashed cola from his tie and shirt pocket. The woman across the aisle bowed her head and gave the sign of the cross while the baby, asleep in her arms, didn’t flinch.

The aircraft lurched again, this time descending what Gina estimated was at least a thousand feet, inducing cries and whimpers throughout the small compartment. Gina closed her eyes and sucked in her cheeks, and when another jostling forced her teeth together, she tasted blood and winced.

The businessman patted her arm. “¿Le duele? ¿Le ayudo?”

The mocha brown eyes and absurdly long black eyelashes of Gina’s seatmate all but toppled her composure. No wonder Diane, her best friend, planned to walk the aisle again, this time with a handsome South American. The small palpitations in Gina’s chest had nothing to do with the airplane’s descent and everything to do with the man’s chiseled chin, and white teeth peering from sensuous, full lips. Indeed, every adult male sitting within the confines of the cabin owned looks that sent shivers up her spine.

Gina choked back the unwelcome flutter of days gone by and recognized that the man waited for her response.

Am I hurt? Well, her hurts were deeper than any superficial injury inflicted by her jaw biting; however, that was more information than the man intended to gather. Could he help her? What a loaded question. Her hazel eyes lingered on his intent gaze before she answered, “Estoy bien, gracias.”

He looked away, but only after giving her a knowing inspection. When he twisted his heavy wedding band around his finger and tugged at his tight shirt collar, Gina pulled her lips together, lowered her chin, and hid her amusement behind a veil of blonde-streaked hair.

Yeah, those were days gone by, but even though she didn’t participate in the game any longer, she still enjoyed setting out the bait every now and then. Massaged her ego, instead of her person. Goody-two-shoes Gina wasn’t as much fun as her previous persona, but after Thad, she’d had enough. He was one sick man, and when she discovered she was better off without him, she determined she didn’t need another one.

The pilot seemed to get a handle on the proper altitude for the heavily laden airliner, and managed to quash further passenger panic for the remainder of the flight. During the descent, the baby wailed in protest of the air pressure assaulting her tiny eardrums, and by the time the pilot rolled the tired relic of an aircraft to the gate and cut its engines, the outside temperature rendered the cabin air stifling.

Gina tossed back a couple of ibuprofen tablets, sans water or, as they would say in Venezuela, sin agua, and choked them down. When the attendant opened the door and permitted the weary travelers to alight, Señor Businessman extended his hand to Gina and helped her out of her seat. When she ignored him on the tarmac, grabbed her suitcase, and turned to go into the terminal, he stepped in front of her.

“¿Le ayudo?”

Did it look like she needed help? Playtime was over. Gina just wanted to find Diane among the crowd gathered in the terminal, and be done with a long travel day.

“Gracias, pero, no.”

When he didn’t move out of her way, Gina muttered, “Enough, already.”

“You’re American?” The man straightened his form and blinked.

Gina returned his perplexed expression with a scowl. “Yeah. So?”

“Me, too.”

Now it was Gina’s turn to balk. Not that it mattered. “Oh. Well, I don’t need help. I have a friend waiting. Enjoy your stay in Merida.”

Gina dodged toward the right, but he dodged with her.

“Wait,” he said. “I’m here on business, but have a lot of free time. Would you like to get together?”

“I don’t have free time while I’m here, and I’m not interested in entertaining someone’s husband. Please, move out of my way.”

This time, he stood with his mouth hanging open and let her pass. Once she reached the door to the terminal, she glanced over her shoulder and saw him walking across the asphalt, his face toward the ground and a cell phone grasped next to his ear.

“Gina!” The bride-to-be waved from behind a metal gate. In her hand she held a large bouquet of white and yellow flowers, and a solitary yellow flower rested above one of her ears. Diane looked gorgeous, ravishing, happy. Her long dark hair glistened against a dark tan. A pale blue sundress hugged her shapely form and offset her espresso brown eyes. Gina waved back and joined the throngs as they funneled through the tiny baggage claim area.

Gina wrapped Diane in a ferocious hug, stepped back, and placed both hands on her friend’s shoulders. “You look fantastic. I need whatever diet and exercise routine you’ve discovered. ‘Wow’ is not an apt response.”

Diane’s pink lips opened into a broad grin. “Glad you noticed.” She leaned in and added, “Little nip here, little tuck there. Quite affordable down here, you know?”

Gina blinked. “You? You went under the knife for that body?”

“Shh. Don’t give me away, and please don’t tell David. I had the work done in Caracas. He knows nothing.” When Gina gaped, Diane winked at the implied judgment. “I only had a teensy bit of assistance in that department.” She spun around. “But, it’s good. Yes?”

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