Vacant Hearts

By DJ Larkin

*** Content Intended for a Mature Audience ***

Sapphira Jones has never known love. Haunted by a past she has tried to forget, she remains distant from everyone except her best friend.

Alexander Thomas, bestselling novelist, still mourns the loss of his beloved wife after nearly five years. He is incapable of love.

A series of chance encounters brings these two desolate hearts together. Desperate to remain in the life of the only man she’s ever wanted, Sapphira concocts a plan she hopes will fulfill his needs - and hers. Can she rescue him from his bleak despair? Or will the ghost of his wife prove too much for her to overcome?

Vacant Hearts is the first installment of the Vacant Hearts Trilogy, where two barren hearts collide in a tale of scorching sex and desire, love and romance.

• Language: English
• Publisher: DJ Larkin
• Release date: Mar 10, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310309267

DJ Larkin

I'm an IT Worker living the dream of writing a book. I live in New England with my wife and two kids. We have a small menagerie of one dog, one cat, and two ferrets. My goal for writing is to write a book that my wife would be proud of. Anything after that is just icing on the cake.

Book preview

Vacant Hearts

Book One of the Vacant Hearts Series

By DJ Larkin

Copyright 2014 Daryl Larkin

Smashwords Edition

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are

either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any

resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Dedication

To my wife Fabiola. This one is for the love of my life.

Prologue

Alexander’s Reality

My wife is dead. I can pretend that she’s not, that these last five years have only been a nightmare that I will eventually awaken from, gasping in a cold sweat. I will roll over in bed, look next to me, and she will be there like she always has been. But this is not a bad dream. My wife is dead. This is my reality.

Oh, but it is too much to bear. Pain and sorrow follow me wherever I go. I cannot escape it. She was my light, my sun, my happiness. She was everything that I wanted in life, my very reason for living. Without her, I live in eternal darkness, a night that will not end. I cannot see the light of a new dawn because the clouds of depression have covered it all.

I must break free of this sadness, this hopelessness, this aching loneliness that goes on without pause. I am living a half-life; neither truly alive nor dead. My heart is empty, shattered and broken. I have to find a way. I need to live again. So I pack my suitcase and return to the place where my happiness was near its peak. Where my love was just starting out, strong and alive. When my future looked limitless and full of joy.

Perhaps I can find peace in the place where my wife and I had just started our journey - our honeymoon. Perhaps I can move on if I return to the place where it all began. I need to move on because I can no longer live as I have. I must break free of this prison that has surrounded me and I must find closure. I have to find the strength to carry on.

Because if I cannot, I don’t know how I can survive.

Chapter 1

I slam the door behind me and sit down on the couch, stunned and speechless. My whole world had just been turned upside down and I don’t know what to do. My loss is like a physical blow. I cringe when I think about it. After seven years of working at the bookstore, I lost my job today. The store is closing down for good and everyone was notified. I still can’t believe it’s happening.

My boss was the kindest, most gentle man I had ever known. He took care of everyone at the bookstore like they were his own children. Most of the people worked there for years, a testament to their loyalty to him. The pay wasn’t great, the benefits worse, but he made everyone glad to come into work every day.

When he sat us all down to tell us, he was the first to break out in tears, not because he lost his job, but because we were losing ours. So in the end, we comforted him when he had meant to comfort us. We all promised that we’d keep in contact, knowing that we never would. I wasn’t particularly close to any of them. I am a shy person and even after seven years I’d never really tried to get to know anyone.

I hear the door open and in walks my best friend in the whole world, Angie Taylor. Actually, she’s my only friend. I think of Angie as if she were my big sister, even though we’re the same age. She’s the only one who knows my background and what I’ve been through. Even knowing all that, she didn’t shy away from being my friend in high school when I came for my senior year. I had never been to a public school and she protected me and helped me through the sometimes bewildering social and educational drama that entire year. Without her, I think I would have had a much more difficult time making it through. It was an easy choice to follow her here to San Diego once I finished my A.A. degree at the CCAC in Pittsburgh. She was already well established here in San Diego State and we were able to share a dorm together until we graduated.

After college she got a job in a law firm as an associate attorney and I continued to work at the bookstore that was only supposed to be temporary until I could find something else. This apartment was mostly due to Angie, since she had the better job. If I had been on my own, I could never have lived in such a nice place. It isn’t huge, but it has two bedrooms and is in a good area within walking distance of the beach. Not that I went to the beach too often. My pale skin burns too easily so I mostly stay indoors. Angie liked to snorkel and spent a lot of time there when she wasn’t working. Unlike my pasty white skin, she has a tan that’s a nice healthy shade of golden brown.

Sapphira! Guess what? I got the best news ever today! Angie has a huge smile on her face. She’s about to continue, but then she looks at me for the first time. I’m a mess. My eyes are swollen from the tears I had cried after my boss told me that the bookstore was closing. My nose is as red as Rudolph’s at Christmas and my hair is all over the place. What’s wrong?

The bookstore’s closing! I blurt out before I start crying again. It is a testament to her kindness and caring that she spent the next hour calming me down. Her news is sent to the background so that she can help me out like she always has. We talk about how sometimes good things come out of something that seems bad. Silver linings and all that stuff, the kind of stuff you roll your eyes at unless you’re the one trying to be cheered up. Once my tears stop, I get a hold of myself and remember that she had wanted to tell me something.

Hey Angie, what was it you were going to tell me before I got all crybaby on you?

Oh, it’s not that big a deal, I can tell you later when you’re feeling better, she says, although I could tell that she was dying to tell me.

No, go ahead and tell me now. I could use some good news.

Well, if you insist. Her smile is back, a radiant 1000-watt light beam. Remember that interview I had about a month ago in Pittsburgh? Well I got the junior partnership! It’s a huge promotion and greater responsibility. I get my own office and everything!

That is great news! In truth I was overwhelmed. I mean, here I am, reeling from the shock of losing my job, then trying to process Angie’s new position and what that would mean to us. Selfish thoughts passed through my mind briefly. What would I do? Where would I have to move to? Having no job and little money is not a great recipe for living in an expensive city like San Diego. But I’m so happy for Angie. If anyone deserves it, she does. She was working 80+ hours most weeks at her current law firm. She was gaining a reputation as a great corporate lawyer who brought in a ton of clients and money. There was no chance for promotion for her here, so the offer in Pittsburgh was a dream come true.

Thanks, Sweetie, she says graciously. "I don’t start for five weeks. I gave them my notice today and my last day is four weeks from today. And that brings me to my other news. You and I are going on vacation next month to Mexico for a week.

Are you kidding me? That’s awesome! You really do deserve a vacation.

So do you, Sweetie. It’s a four-star resort that’s right on the beach. There will be plenty of relaxation time. You won’t want to leave. So a month from now, we’re on our way. And there’s one last thing I want to talk about.

What’s that?

I want you to move back to Pittsburgh with me. The firm has a loft that they are putting me up in for the first year I’m there. It’s huge. Two bedrooms with an awesome kitchen and views overlooking the river. We’ll be living in the Cultural Center. Lots of theaters and art galleries. You’ll love it. What do you say?

Well... I needed a moment to process everything. For better or worse, my whole world was about to change. This was not a simple thing, but a life-changing event. Everything that I had grown comfortable with had just been upended. But what’s the old saying? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. It seemed like my time here was over and it was time to start fresh - a new beginning.

Of course, I’ll go. I say, sounding more cheerful than I actually feel. It’s not easy starting over, but sometimes a renewal is necessary for continued growth. I may have been happy, but maybe I was just more comfortable with everything. It was a known entity. Moving back to Pittsburgh, back to near where my family - whom I haven’t seen since I was 17 - lives, is a daunting thought. But I was strong then, I can be strong now. I realize without my only friend, San Diego is not the place for me. Besides, everyone can get tired of perfect weather all the time. I know it may sound crazy, but I do miss watching the snow fall in the winter.

Oh, thank you, Sweetie. I think she was a bit worried I might say no, as if at this point I really had any better options. You’re my best friend and I couldn’t think of starting over without you there to help me out.

I think you’ve got that backwards, but I appreciate it nonetheless. When do we move?

August first is when we leave here. We’ve got a moving company to take all of our stuff. We just have to pack it, then we’ll head straight from Mexico to Pittsburgh. So whaddya think? She asks with a hopeful look.

Sounds great, I lie. Everything was happening so fast that it was almost too much for me to take in. I needed a little time to get my head around it. Look, it’s been a very trying day for me. I think I’m going to lie down for a bit.

But we’ve got to have a celebratory dinner, she whines. Come on. Her enthusiasm and boundless energy were always infectious. Most people have trouble saying no to her and I was no exception.

Alright, alright. Jeez, keep your panties on. Let me take a shower and then we can go, I acquiesce. That’s how, an hour later, I went from crying for my loss to celebrating Angie’s - and mine, I suppose - gain.

We walk over to Brannigan’s. It’s an Irish pub that’s a couple of blocks from our place. It’s our usual hang out, and it seems appropriate to go here instead of some fancy pants restaurant that wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable. The place is pretty packed with the college crowd so we have a twenty minute wait before we get seated. During that time she brings up some more details about her job and the place we’re moving to.

"So my office is on the 20th floor of PPG Place, one floor down from the senior partners. The view is amazing. You can see most of the city from there. I’ll be doing mostly corporate acquisitions and mergers. If necessary I’ll also do some trial work, but this is more like an eight to eight job. Much better than now. The pay to start is about twice as much and I also get quarterly bonuses. It’s gonna be awesome.

And our new loft puts this one to shame. Two bedrooms, two full bathrooms, one half bath, a huge living room and a gourmet kitchen. It’s all modern. Steel, concrete and glass. It’s so cool.

As she speaks I nod in the right places, but my heart and head just aren’t into it tonight. I’ve got so many things to think about and do. Today has been so mentally exhausting I just want to go to bed.

So what do you think? There’s a huge smile on her face and I don’t want to spoil her mood.

Sounds good to me, I say automatically. There is a pause between us that stretches on. I’m saved by the hostess telling us our table is ready.

Right this way, please, she says perkily. She seats us in a corner with a window view and we can see the sun go down in the distance, going from yellow, to orange, to red.

Our waiter greets us and takes our drink order. One bottle of your best Sauvignon Blanc, please, Angie orders for the both of us. When he returns he opens the bottle and pours us each a glass.

To your new job and your new future, I toast. May it be everything that you want it to be.

"To our future, Angie corrects. To the awesome job you’re going to get that you don’t even know about. And to finding some guys we can have a little fun with. She smiles as she sees our waiter coming back to our table. You know, that new waiter’s not half-bad looking. Maybe I should see what he’s doing after work."

Once he makes his way back to our table, he asks if we’re ready to order. Hi Robert, she says seductively while she looks at his name badge. What do you recommend for me? Her tone and her looks do what they usually do to a man when she turns on the charm.

Um, the fish and chips are good, he stammers. Also the Irish sausage is a favorite.

Ooh... She says, putting her finger seductively to her lips. "Isn’t that also called a banger?"

Robert blushes from his head to I’m sure his toes if we could see them. He stammers some more but is unable to say anything coherent. Angie rescues him by ordering the fish and chips. I do the same and he is out of there as quickly as possible.

He’s no fun, she pouts. I need someone who can keep up with me, not someone who can’t take a good innuendo without acting like a little boy caught looking at porno magazines! Oh well, maybe I’ll find someone who’s fun in Mexico.

So tell me about Mexico. I’ve never been anywhere, as Angie knows. My family wasn’t big on trips, and after that, I’ve really never had the money to travel. Where is it we’re going?

It’s the Riviera Maya, out on the Yucatán Peninsula. It’s about 25 minutes from the Cancún airport. We’ll fly in, take a shuttle and be there in no time. We’ll have a great time. It’s all-inclusive. All drinks, food, everything. We don’t have to leave the resort if we don’t want to. We can swim in the pools or the ocean. There are bars, restaurants, buffets, and poolside bars.

Umm, you said bars twice, I point out to her.

I know! Isn’t it great? Bars with unlimited free liquor! She has a big smile on her face and I have to laugh. She loves her liquor when the moment strikes her. I’ve seen her drink some college men under the table before at parties. This girl can drink. I’ve never been one to drink much, a glass of wine or maybe a beer in social settings. I’ve just never gotten around to liking it that much. Angie is more the party drinker. She’ll drink a lot during those occasions, but almost never anytime else. It’s mostly because she’s so busy that I think she needs to party to just unwind and let her hair down. Her job is stressful and this allows her to blow off a little steam.

To look at the two of us together, you’d never know how we could be best friends. She’s sexy with an awesome body and curves in all the right places. She makes me feel almost like a boy when I compare myself to her. Especially when I look at her boobs. My curves are less like curves and more like straight lines. She’s really outgoing and I’m much more reserved and shy. When she enters a room, she dominates it; I disappear in it. She knows what she wants and she goes and gets it. I have no idea what I want or how to go about getting it. I’m sure my childhood would be a psychiatrist's dream, but I’m not interested in revisiting the past in this case. It’s far too painful.

Our food arrives to take my mind off of my grim reverie and we eat in silence for a few minutes. As usual the fish and chips are wonderful and I’m stuffed by the time I’m done, even though I only get through about half of it. Once an embarrassed Robert clears our table, Angie gets the check and we walk back to our apartment, reminiscing about all our good and bad times here. It’s definitely going to be hard to leave, but at least we’re leaving on our terms. Or at least Angie is. I’m just going along for the ride. I’m like a leaf in a river, flowing downstream in the path of least resistance.

Once we get back to our place, I say good night and retreat to my room. I’m soon in my night clothes (my grandma pajamas, as Angie likes to call them). It’s been a long day and I crawl into bed with Charlotte Brontë’s Jane Eyre as my lone companion. It’s one of my favorite books. I sometimes think that Jane and I had a lot in common, especially in our early childhood.

It’s not long before my eyes begin to droop. The day had been mentally exhausting and I just can’t stay awake any longer. Tomorrow I get to think about what my new life will be like, but for tonight, I think about all that I will be losing. Sadness sets in and follows me into my dreams.

* * * * *

The next four weeks are a blur of activity and heartache. Since I’m out of a job, I have nothing to take my mind off of things, unlike Angie, who is working crazy hours getting everything sorted out before she leaves her job for good. I get to sit around and contemplate the scary future while also making preparations for our move. I coordinate with the movers, get things ready for our trip to Mexico, and wrangle up some boxes to pack with.

Even though we have had four weeks, we still don’t finish packing until the night before we are supposed to leave. I’m already missing this place and am in acute denial about everything. When I finally realize I’ve only got a couple days to go, I become a whirling dervish and get the apartment packed up. Angie, because she’s so busy, takes longer. She’s up pretty late on our last night finishing her room

I take one last look around the apartment to make sure that I didn’t forget to pack anything. The movers will be here tomorrow to grab our stuff and ship it back east to Pittsburgh. Later on today, Angie and I will be heading off to Cancún so this is the last time that we will ever see this place.

Angie comes out of her room with a small box as she packs up the last of her extensive collection of perfumes. I hope this makes it back unbroken. Otherwise I will be royally pissed, she says as she places it on the floor next to the pile of other boxes. Are you all set?

I nod, not trusting myself to talk. As usual, Angie knows exactly how I feel without my having to say a word. She truly is my best friend.

I know. It’s hard for me too, kiddo. I’ve loved living here. She gives me a quick hug and goes back to her room to bring out some more of her stuff.

A short time later she’s finished bringing her remaining boxes out. We head over to the apartment manager’s office, hand him the keys, and we’re off. A friend of hers picks us up and we’re on our way to San Diego International Airport.

Chapter 2

The airport is not large, consisting of only a single runway, but it is extremely busy. However, the good news is that they just finished upgrading it with the Green Build project so that makes it better than it could have been.

Angie’s friend drops us off at the terminal and we head to the ticket counter. After a little time waiting in line, we get our boarding passes and go through security. Unlike Angie, this is actually my first time flying. Whenever I’ve needed to travel, I’ve done it by train. I’m a little bit apprehensive as we arrive at our gate and wait to board.

Angie looks over at me and gives me a reassuring smile. Nervous? she asks.

A little bit. I look out the large windows and see a jet start its take off. How is it that those gigantic things can remain in the air? I know it’s all about aerodynamics, physics, and stuff like that, but it might as well be magic.

No need, she says. Planes are about as safe as anything out there. We’ll be fine. How’d you like the window seat? That way you can see everything as we go.

I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not, but I decide to take her up on her offer. Sure, why not?

American Airlines Flight 880 with service to Dallas/Fort Worth will begin boarding in five minutes, announces the gate agent over the airport intercom in a bored voice. I repeat, American Airlines Flight 880 with service to Dallas/Fort Worth will begin boarding in five minutes.

That’s us. Grab your stuff because we’re off to a week of paradise! We line up by the gate with the rest of our fellow travelers and in a few minutes we hand our boarding passes to the gorgeous blonde at the front of the on-ramp. A couple of minutes later, we’re climbing into seats. The plane is nearly full so it takes another ten minutes or so after we get on for the door to the front of the plane to close.

My palms are getting a little sweaty as I listen to our flight attendant go through the safety instructions. I look over at Angie with mixed feelings of envy and annoyance as she’s cool as a cucumber perusing the latest issue of Sky Mall magazine. The engines whine loudly and with a jolt, we start moving down the runway. Unconsciously, I grab both armrests and grip tightly. The rumbling increases as we gain speed and all of sudden, we’ve left the ground. My eyes, which had been closed tightly, fly open and I dare to look out the window. We’re rising rapidly and the ground falls away beneath us. The jet banks and turns back towards the East on our way to Texas. I can see the Pacific on one side and San Diego on the other. My anxiety flows away and I try to relax. It’s two hours and ten minutes to Dallas according to our captain who forecasts clear and smooth flying all the way there.

After the initial excitement of the takeoff, I settle into the monotony of air travel. I forgot to pack a book in my carry-on and the movies that they offer are not enticing enough for me to want to pay $2 for the headphones. I push the chair back as far as it will go, which is probably no more than two inches since we’re in coach, put my head on a pillow and close my eyes.

My thoughts drift off to my future. Like everyone else, I’d like to be successful in life, career, and love. I just don’t know how. I worked at the bookstore for so long because it was comfortable, certainly not because it paid well. Maybe I’m afraid of success. I’ve never been comfortable being the center of attention. I’ve spent most of my time trying to avoid that, trying to do my job or live my life without standing out. I guess I’ve been really good at that because, other than Angie, I’m not sure that too many people even know I exist. Perhaps this move to Pittsburgh will be a chance to break out of my cocoon.

An announcement from the captain tells us that we’ll be landing soon. I buckle my seatbelt and put my seat ‘back in its upright position’. The landing is perfect and we disembark and head to the next terminal.

Dallas/Fort Worth is a huge airport. It’s so big that it is considered an airport city by the Post Office (DFW Airport, TX) and even has its own ZIP code. We land at Terminal A and take a shuttle to Terminal D.

Hey, we’ve got a couple hours until our next flight, says Angie after glancing at an information kiosk. Let’s go eat somewhere quick and then hit the Duty Free stores. I could use some new perfume. I roll my eyes. The last thing she needs is new perfume, since she already has, the last time I counted, over eighty different kinds at home. Perfume is like her drug, she’s always on the lookout for another score, trying to find the perfect scent. I swear that if I see some seedy guy offering her some black market perfume on the street, I’m calling Perfumes Addicts Anonymous to take her away.

We find a decent place for lunch and settle down for a quick bite to eat. I watch Angie scarf down a huge meal while I just pick at my food. Another thing that irks me about Angie aside from her perfect body is the fact that she can eat anything and maintain that body. Her metabolism seems to keep her at the ideal weight, whether she eats a salad or