Erasing Faith Read Online Free Page A

coming — that inevitable point when we’d go our separate directions and never see one another again — so we just stood there, staring and smiling. Enjoying the inexplicable familiarity, the confusing chemistry, that bubbled in the air between us.
    That kind of banter, that feeling that your personalities were entirely complementary… it didn’t come around every day. Hell, it barely came around once a decade. To find someone who just got you, on a fundamental level… someone who you just clicked with, like two puzzle pieces snapping into place… Well, it was rarer than it should be.
    When the seconds dragged on into minutes, I knew it was time to walk away — even if I didn’t want to.
    “I have to go, now,” I murmured, my gaze steady on his. “Things to do, people to kill. You know the drill.”
    Something flashed in his eyes. “I do, actually.”
    I smiled, taking a few steps backward until nearly ten feet separated us. Several tourists filtered through the gap between our bodies, but our gazes still held.
    “Goodbye, stranger,” I called. “And as a parting gift, from one serial killer to another, remember — always have an alibi, never talk to the police without your attorney present. ”
    He laughed and his whole face lit up. “You watch a little too much Law & Order. You know that, right?” he called back.
    I contorted my features into a look of disgust. “Law & Order? Psh . Never. I’m a Criminal Minds kind of girl, any day of the week.”
    His shoulders shook with repressed mirth. “You are a weird girl, any day of the week.”
    “I know,” I agreed happily, winking at him before I finally forced myself to turn on my heel and walk away. If I didn’t leave now, I never would.
    As I weaved a path into the crowd, I heard his voice yell out one last time at my back.
    “Weird is good!”
    My smile grew even wider.
    ***
    The rest of my day was spent rushing between classes, my apartment, and the Hermes Courier office. I kept purposefully busy, which helped push thoughts of my collision with the handsome stranger to the back of my mind, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t seem to keep my attention from straying to him.
    Sitting in my medieval history class, my note-taking on the Ottoman-Hungarian Wars was abruptly interrupted by a startlingly vivid memory of that megawatt, crooked smile.
    Dashing toward my apartment for a quick lunch break between lectures, I was nearly run over by a blue van when a flash of those intense dark eyes involuntarily popped into my mind.
    I knew I was romanticizing the encounter in retrospect. But could you blame me? I mean, it had all the makings of a whirlwind Hollywood romance: girl, literally swept off her feet by a mysterious, handsome stranger in a fabulous, fairy-tale city. Walking down the avenues, I could practically hear Celine Dion belting out the soundtrack to the romantic drama that was my life overseas.
    Wait, no… It wasn’t the sweet refrain of “My Heart Will Go On” that I was hearing… 
    I was just nuts.
    All I could do was laugh at myself as I walked through the doors to the Hermes office. I’d always been a daydreamer, but this fantasy was rapidly spiraling toward the realm of ridiculous, even by my standards. I giggled as I made my way through the atrium. The space was serene — large windows let the mid-afternoon sun flood the white room, making it seem even more airy. Unfortunately, the heavenly atmosphere was darkened significantly by the presence of the woman sitting at the long, pale marble desk directly across from the entrance.
    Irenka.
    Secretary, schedule-master, time-keeper.
    Which essentially translated to: judge, jury, executioner.
    She ruled with an iron fist, guarding the entrance to the Hermes offices like a monstrous, mythological chimera, accepting parcels from customers, and depositing them onto the revolving conveyer-belt that whisked them into the back room for disbursement. As a side gig, she made it her