Chapter Three
Perched atop the jagged peak of the mountain for a second time, Zara felt her chest heave with uneven breaths as she surveyed the spectacular vista spread out before her.
Despite the warmth of the sun’s rays upon her goosebump-covered skin, she shivered.
Why was this place in her dreams again? Was it somewhere she needed to go, to be?
With a slightly strained breath, followed by another, she pondered the meaning of this place, and the significance it had on her heart as she looked at her hands, turning them over.
Unlike last time, her skin was still youthful.
Carefully peering over the ledge her legs were dangling from, through the wispy clouds floating over her bare feet, her eyes widened at the world below.
It was a stunning mosaic of nature and civilisation.
The view oddly reminded her of an aged love letter, its pages creased and worn but still brimming with meaning.
And somewhere within the immeasurable ether lay the recollection of Jay Maverick, the enigmatic man who’d ignited the embers of her romantic dreams. She hadn’t been able to go a day without thinking of him since crossing paths with him, whether she was awake or asleep.
Her heart fluttered like a caged bird, yearning for freedom and the unknown adventures that waited beyond this realm.
With each beat, images of Jay flickered in her mind like candlelight dancing on a breeze — his infectious smile, his charming aura, the way his presence had made her feel like she’d just run into an old friend, or past lover.
A lover who had parted ways with her through reasons out of their control.
What was it about him that made her feel as if she could tumble into love within weeks, days, hours even, if she were blessed a second time around with his company?
She’d never met a man who’d been able to have this effect on her, especially in such a fleetingly brief encounter.
Oh, how she hoped they could meet again, so that this time she could give him her phone number. Or get his.
Almost as importantly, she needed to get off this mountain.
She had a conscious life to live.
Bracing herself, she took a deep breath and toppled off the edge, plunging through clouds as she fell like a meteor hurtling towards the earth.
The wind whipping past her was like stinging smacks to every inch of her skin, and tears were slapped from her cheeks.
More sharp pain shot through her body as she landed with an abrupt thud, the sensation reminding her that even fantasies could leave bruises.
But then, just as quickly as her descent had ended, all the pain vanished, and she found herself lying in the soft comfort of her queen-size bed.
As she slowly surfaced from what felt like an extremely deep slumber, the sunshine streaming through a crack in her blackout curtains enveloped her in a warm embrace that felt almost otherworldly.
Disoriented yet exhilarated, she blinked rapidly as remnants of her mountaintop dream began to slowly fade into her reality.
She lay still for a moment longer, revelling in the lingering echoes as each resonated.
The mountain had been so vivid, its jagged peaks and the lush valleys beyond etched into her memory with astonishing clarity.
She could almost feel the crispness of the air on her skin and taste the wild scent of pine mingling with salt from a nearby sea.
How could a dream leave her so utterly bewitched — or was it possibly a glimpse into another reality?
Had she been astral projecting? Lucid dreaming?
Yeah, right. Although open-minded, she didn’t believe in such far-fetched things.
So why was she even coddling the idea? As she sighed the thoughts away, her fingers traced the edges of her doona, seeking reassurance in the familiar textures of her waking world.
‘But was it just a dream? Could it be a sign?’ she murmured to herself, unable to stop from deliberating, her mind suddenly soaring at the thought of it being something more than mere imagination.
Her dreams had always been a tapestry of vibrant colours and raw emotions, but now they seemed to weave deeper into the fabric of her being, each thread pulling her closer to understanding their significance.
She yearned to unlock their meaning, and also understand the siren call that drew her so persistently towards the dashing Mr Maverick.
He was impossibly handsome, she knew that much about him, and he had a charming air about him, but surface level never lasted — there was a whole lot more she wanted to discover, from the tips of his toes to the top of his …
Zara Monroe, stop thinking such things!
While she tried to ground herself, a sense of magic and possibility still danced within her soul, as if the powers that be were never going to stop whispering of miracles yet to come.
And if miracles did come, hopefully that would include the reappearance of her gallant mystery man.
She could only imagine how much fun they’d have together.
Dinner dates, movie dates, cuddled-up-together dates …
Lost in her make-believe world, she jumped as the chime of her alarm snapped her back to the here and now, and with a stretch, she shook away the remnants of slumber.
Her next European destination was Amsterdam, after a one-night stopover in Dubai, and from what Suzanne had told her it was an enchanting city of winding canals and storied cobblestone streets where past and present coexisted in perfect harmony.
She couldn’t wait to visit the Netherlands; it would be the very first time, but not the last. International travel was part of her working life now.
A flight attendant’s job was never dull — every destination was full of potential waiting to be discovered.
Slipping from her tousled bed, she straightened her skewwhiff polka-dot pyjamas as she padded out of her bedroom and towards her open-plan living area in search of her fix of caffeine.
The contrast between the starkness of her Cairns Esplanade apartment and the ethereal dreamland she’d just left was a little startling, but she pressed through the wall that divided reality from fiction.
One bare footfall after the other, her belongings came into focus.
The walls of her one-bedroom rented unit were adorned with captured memories — a photo of a breathtaking sunset, a pressed flower from a long-ago bouquet, a ticket stub from her first solo flight.
Each memento was a chapter in the story of a life that had led to this very moment, a life that had really only begun when she’d left Verena Ferrara far behind her.
And she’d never return to Verena, or to Tijuana, Mexico, if she wanted to survive emotionally, mentally or physically.
That little girl was dead, and any memories of her buried, along with her parents, Ana and Mateo.
Criminal life only ever had one ending, and it wasn’t a good one.
She hadn’t had a choice about being born into it, but she had a choice to live a life that was the complete antithesis of it.
She flicked her kettle on, and grabbed her favourite mug and a jar of instant coffee as she steered her mind away from her far-flung past, and to more pleasant thoughts.
Basking in the lingering whispers of her dream, she gazed out the kitchen window towards the calm, sun-dappled inlet, encircled by mangroves.
Never would she set even a toe, let alone a foot, into those waters.
Dying by crocodile wasn’t on her agenda.
She had a whole lot of life to be lived.
Within her heart, she carried the untamed spirit of the mountain she’d visited twice in her sleep, along with a mantra urging her to seek out Jay.
Because somehow, some way, she knew without a shadow of doubt that it would drive her nuts if he only ever remained in her imaginings.
Although, even there, he was a lovely presence.
Nevertheless, for the time being, her feet were firmly planted on solid ground as she readied herself for her day ahead.
Whipping up two pieces of toast and lathering both with extra-crunchy peanut butter, she ate while standing and taking sips from her extra-strong coffee.
Then, after washing her plate, teaspoon and butter knife, she left them on the draining board for when she arrived home in a little under a week’s time.
Back in her bedroom she opened her closet and slid out her crisp navy uniform, taking a moment to admire the clean lines and polished buttons.
It was a symbol of the life she adored — one filled with endless opportunities and new encounters with each take-off and landing.
However, amid the thrill of travel and adventure, there was always a whisper in her heart reminding her of the day when she’d trade in the skies for the uncharted realms of motherhood.
It would be a future painted in broad strokes of love and sacrifice, a life she’d embrace passionately, but also not without a pang for the freedom that came with soaring through the clouds.
But, before that could happen, she needed to find a man she loved enough to become hers forever.
And vice versa. The feat was proving easier said than done.
‘Come on, perk up, because the next adventure awaits you,’ she said to her reflection, a smile playing on her lips as she imagined the wonders that she’d uncover in Amsterdam.