another date and slamming the phone down. Dishonesty was simply something she could not tolerate, regardless of steamy sex.
The next few days went by in a blur, though Kristi couldn't help but wonder about Mark. Was it really just a misunderstanding? If you lied for a good reason, was it still bad to lie? She wanted to see him, to perhaps give him another chance, but it seemed to her that to do so would mean bending too many of her own internal maxims.
After almost a week she'd have realized that she had just about forgotten about him. If, that is, she thought about it. But she didn't.
Then one day she thought she was being followed when she was on her way to a luncheon with some girls from work. Kristi chalked it up to a feeling and nothing more as she could never seem to spot the same car twice in her rear view mirror, as much as she tried.
Those feelings grew over the next few days, though she could never put a car to the feeling. Many times she felt she was on the verge of identifying her imagined pursuer, but then the car in question would turn off.
Finally she shrugged it off as her own paranoia. A few more weeks passed and the feelings finally passed.
It was a Friday when things seemed to change. Out of nowhere she got two dozen roses delivered to her office, but without a card, which piqued her curiosity to no end. Frustratingly the delivery service had broken the stem of one of the roses, leaving it to hang limp and rather lifeless.
Getting home in the middle of a horrendous rainstorm did not improve her day in the slightest. Not only was it the beginning of yet another slow weekend without a date or any real plans, but the forecast called for more of the same. Kristi realized that she wouldn't even have the chance to work on her tan.
So she spent her Friday night watching a Mad Men marathon. At least, she thought, Jon Hamm gave her at least enough man candy to feel slightly hot and bothered. After running through around seven of her favorite episodes and half a bottle of her favorite red wine she decided to call it a night and slipped into bed. Usually it took more wine to really make her feel this tipsy, but no matter.
She'd only been in bed a few moments, barely enough time to enjoy the feel of her satin sheets against her silky legs, when she noticed something. There was an odd glow coming from between the slats of her bedroom closet. Strangely, it wasn't the pale green glow she was used to from the relay box of her security system. Tonight it looked rather orange or perhaps even yellow. Recalling something in the recesses of her mind from the installer that a change in color may be indicating that the batteries needed replacing, she got up to take a look.
Even though Kristi had only been in bed a few minutes she found the need to shake off the cobwebs that were already in her head from both exhaustion and the wine, so she took her time covering the ten feet over to her closet door.
She swore when she was only a yard away she heard a quick intake of air - and the orange glow went out.
Suddenly full of fright, Kristi turned and made to go for her nightstand and her cell phone. After only turning around and taking a step she heard a crash from behind her. Knowing it was the closet door she lunged across her bed for the phone but felt something suddenly grab her by the ankles. Twisting in mid-air, she landed on her back on her bed. The phone was still tantalizingly out of her reach.
Looking down, she saw a figure clothed entirely in black at the foot of her bed with one arm firmly locked around her feet and ankles. Her nostrils were suddenly filled with the scent of stale sweat and pure hatred.
"Fuck!" she screamed, trying to kick herself free and give her enough traction on her smooth sheet to reach the phone. "What the hell do you want, you crazy fuck!"
With that, her dark visitor took one of his hands away from her lower legs and ripped off
The Science of Leonardo: Inside the Mind of the Great Genius of the Renaissance