The Fall Girl Read online

  THE FALL GIRL

  A novel by

  T. B. MARKINSON

  Published by T. B. Markinson

  Visit T. B. Markinson’s official website at lesbianromancesbytbm.com for the latest news, book details, and other information.

  Copyright © T. B. Markinson, 2018

  Cover Design by Erin Dameron-Hill / EDHGraphics

  Edited by Jeri Walker

  Proofread by Kelly Hashway

  E-book formatting by Guido Henkel

  This e-book is copyrighted and licensed for your personal enjoyment only. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any forms or by any means without the prior permission of the copyright owner. The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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  Chapter One

  A contented sigh escaped from my lips as I gazed at the South China Sea. “This is my idea for the picture-perfect way to end the day.”

  The sun hung low in the Malaysian sky, splashing the water and cotton-ball clouds with orange, red, and purplish fingers as if an artist had swirled watercolor paints on the canvas. I rested my forearms on the restaurant table set up outside along the water in Kota Kinabalu.

  “Any day I get to spend with you is perfect.” Claire playfully batted her eyelashes, fiddling with a worn knotted friendship bracelet on her left wrist.

  I sported a matching one, made together way back when we were in college. After the first time we had made love, the night of our graduation, she slipped the bracelet off and walked out of my life. Sadly, it wasn’t the last time she left me.

  For over twenty years, I had stowed them out of sight but never out of mind. Not once did I slip either on, but I kept them safe just in case.

  I lightly slapped her hand. “Sarcasm? Really?”

  Her sapphire eyes strayed to a beat-up yellow, mint green, and red ship with large tires dangling on the sides. Two fishermen in a motorboat puttered back toward the dock a quarter of a mile away.

  “I wasn’t teasing. Not completely, at least.” The smile on her face ebbed away like the water from the coastline. “I feel like I hardly see you anymore. With your Miracle Girl book tour—”

  I cut her off with a raised finger. “You traveled with me.”

  Although I had capitalized on the nickname I’d earned many years ago when I published my story, any reference to it made me quiver with anger. The true story behind it was something I kept quiet about until Janie, a twenty-something woman, got the upper hand in an attempt to blackmail me. I had no choice but to come clean or lose not only Claire but also myself.

  Incredulity adorned her face. “I was treated more like a babysitter, keeping you on schedule for five to seven interviews a day and then the readings at night—for sixteen days.” She bent over the table. “That, my dear, is not quality time. All the while this was going on, you and Cora started a new online media company, so at each stop, you had meetings. You’ve been busier than an army of one-armed wallpaper hangers days before a new president moves into the White House.”

  I exhaled slowly. “I know.”

  A young Malay, in black jeans and a vivid blue T-shirt, casually prepped several hookahs for the nighttime crowd, who slowly trickled out of their hotel rooms. What would it be like to have a stress-free life, if there were such a thing?

  “Everything in my job needs to be done yesterday or last week. One year in and I feel like I’ve already worked three.”

  She nodded knowingly. “We’ve both been swamped. Although, it took me less than a year to jump through all the adoption hoops.”

  “Competitive, much?” I winked at her. “Thank God for Cora and her husband’s contacts, and money, to smooth over the pink elephant in the room—living with the Miracle Girl.”

  “We don’t officially live together. Not on paper.” She fluttered her eyelashes, trying to brush off how that technicality had almost derailed the adoption.

  “Thanks for the reminder. Luckily, you have a stellar background, of course.” I lightly tapped my fingertips together, and she curtsied in her chair.

  Given my background as an addict coupled with the impending adoption, I hadn’t been able to pursue something I’d longed to do many years ago.

  I buried this thought and switched my focus back to the present. I smothered her hand with mine. “Now that our family will be expanding soon, things are going to change. The book tour is over and—”

  Claire’s hand sliced the air, accompanied by a bark of bitter laughter. “Don’t say work will slow down. We both work in media. It never slows down. Besides, the publisher is breathing down your neck like a rabid dog for your next book. Publish or perish.” Claire let out a puff of air. “I just wish we could find a better balance of work and life. How, I don’t know.”

  A woman and child stood at the wooden railing, the small boy taking photos of the sunset as she smiled with a pride and tenderness only a mother could exhibit.

  I turned back to Claire. “I wasn’t going to claim work would slow down. I’m not that much of an idiot. What I was going to say, before I was so rudely interrupted…” I laughed when she mimed la de da. “I’m going to make you and our children my number one priority.”

  A faint grin cracked her serious veneer. “Children—I can’t believe it.”

  “In two weeks we’re bringing home Ian’s baby sister.”

  Claire’s encompassing smile wiped off the lost years, revealing the woman I fell in love with. “I’ve always wanted to adopt a child. I just never thought I’d get the opportunity.”

  “Careful what you wish for around me. I like to make your dreams come true.” I boosted her hand to my mouth and kissed her fingertips. “Speaking of, are you sure you’re ready for tomorrow’s hiking adventure?”

  She put her arms on the table, giving me a glimpse down her simple cotton tank top. The temperature hovered in the upper seventies, and a breeze coming off the water rustled a few flyaway hairs on her forehead. “The question is, are you? I’ve been training for this adventure for six months. You, my dear, haven’t put in as many hours, not to mention you skipped out on hikes in Colorado. When’s the last time you’ve been on a rigorous outing? You aren’t a spring chicken.”

  “Please, I’m JJ Cavendish, world traveler.” I straightened in my chair and thumped my chest. “And you forget, I’ve reached Low’s Peak once before. You have no idea what you’re getting into. Luckily for you, it’s not a technical climb.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “One and a half days to reach the top by sunrise.” I pointed a finger to the heavens and then reversed the action. “Then all the way to the bottom on the second day. Simple as that.” I smiled,
doing my best not to show any anxiety. With other matters crowding my mind, I didn’t have time to fear the hike.

  She rolled her eyes again. “Let’s hope those calf raises and squats you did while brushing your teeth were enough.”

  “Don’t forget the mountain climbing machine in the gym at work that I use while on conference calls. The staff loves to tease me about all the huffing and puffing.”

  “You’re a pro when it comes to multitasking, like planning meetings during our holiday.” She said it in a way to suggest she wasn’t actually complimenting me. Not that I could blame her.

  I gave her my It couldn’t be helped smile. “At least I’m able to write off my flight as a business expense.” The cell phone in my pocket vibrated, hopefully indicating the story a couple of investigative journalists had been working on was about to break on Matthews Daily Dish. Yesterday I’d received word it would drop in the next twenty-four hours. I resisted checking the message, ruing the timing of Claire’s statement.

  She laughed. “There is that.”

  The sky along the water’s edge darkened, and the final rays of the sun transformed into postcard-worthy sunset colors, making a big splash while also promising to return the next day.

  “All right, world traveler. We should return to the hotel so you can pack and we can get some rest.” She scraped her chair back on the wood decking. “Why didn’t you prep for the overnight stay on the mountain earlier when I did?” She shook her head mom-like.

  I waved her off. “Please, I only need a few items. The hotel stores everything else. I can do it in my sleep.” I yawned. Truth be told, when we had arrived this afternoon after spending a couple of days in Kuala Lumpur to adjust to the time zone and I had to attend a handful of business meetings that rankled Claire, I needed to take a nap to still my thoughts. My schedule for the past twelve months had been nonstop, and now that I was in vacation mode, my body had a mind of its own, which meant it demanded rest, even if I had other things in the works.

  Unfortunately, Claire’s desire to go on a JJ-like adventure before bringing our daughter home wouldn’t allow for much rest. During an interview last year, I’d briefly mentioned that reaching Low’s Peak more than fifteen years earlier was one of my proudest adventure experiences. Little did I know, I’d planted a seed in Claire’s mind.

  She laughed. “You aren’t far from being dead to the world.” She yawned. “Me either.”

  ***

  It was black as midnight, and considering it was five minutes before two in the morning, my assessment wasn’t far off the mark. We only had four hours to beat the sunrise. Even on vacation, I was dogged by a deadline, but the rising sun would wait for no one, not even JJ Cavendish.

  “Okay. Turn on your headlamps.” Our Malay guide, Firash, towered over my petite frame.

  Claire flipped hers on with childlike glee. I was a bit more reserved, not having gotten a wink of sleep since arriving yesterday afternoon at the Laban Rata Resthouse, where most hikers stayed. There were no roads, and porters had to hike with heavy packs loaded with supplies for the camp. Occasionally, a porter had to transport a person who couldn’t complete the hike or twisted an ankle on the slick rocky terrain back down the mountain.

  The previous morning, we’d started the trek at Timpohon gate, a little over six thousand feet in altitude, and almost made it to base camp before the skies opened. We had known ahead of time this was a possibility. Hiking a mountain in Malaysia pretty much guaranteed daily rain showers. Downpours were more like it.

  It wasn’t until we reached Laban Rata that I realized I hadn’t packed my gloves, socks, or underwear in the waterproof bag tucked into my small backpack. Luckily, I had included my passport and wallet in the waterproof bag. I chalked this up to packing after spending an afternoon, which slipped well into the evening, lulling my brain to sleep. I’d feel less silly if I’d been drunk, but I’d been sober for over a year. Winning Claire back after the second time she left me ensured I would never touch another drop. Not after wrecking my ten-year stretch of staying off the sauce and away from coke.

  After we had arrived yesterday and claimed our bunks, I spent most the time drinking one cup after another of hot tea to stay warm in my bare feet and sopping clothes. The rustic accommodations, aside from the dining room, weren’t heated, nor were they private.

  We had slept in a room with six other people on individual bunk beds. Two of our bunkmates were up all night. One had a horrendous cough that made my lungs hurt solely from listening. The other left the room every twenty minutes to climb down the steep ladder-like stairs to the bathroom, I assumed. I never snoozed, not even a catnap, while Claire fell into what had seemed like a peaceful slumber once her head hit the pillow at lights out at eight.

  In the darkness of the predawn hours, Claire reached for my bare hand with her gloved one. “You ready?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  “You sure you don’t want to wear one of my gloves?” She started to take one off, but I squeezed her hand to stop her.

  “You’re sweet, but you shouldn’t have to suffer because of my idiocy.”

  “It wouldn’t be the first time.” I couldn’t make out the expression on her face in the moonlight. Perhaps that was best.

  Today’s goal was to climb the remaining three thousand feet to the summit in time to watch the sunrise. Claire was completely in the dark about my real mission today. Another reason why I wasn’t in the zone when I’d packed my gear. My mind kept flitting to my secret mission.

  I flicked on my headlamp, shedding a pinprick of light in the vast sky. Luckily, it was more effective when I aimed it toward my feet. “Let’s get this party started.”

  Firash nodded, his crooked white teeth gleaming. He waved for us to begin the march up the steep and slippery wooden steps. The crisp air felt good in my lungs, and the stinging cold on my exposed skin prickled my senses awake. If not for my complete lack of shut-eye, half-frozen hands, and thick wool socks soaked all the way through rubbing my heels raw in my hiking boots, I’d be a happy camper.

  There was only one solution to my dilemma: keep moving.

  The stream of sleepy hikers crawling up the side of the mountain made for a comical sight. Around 130 people were allotted permits per day, and every group needed an accredited guide. All I could make out were black lumps against an even blacker backdrop with a tiny stream of light coming from each headlamp. We were one of the first groups out, but my short legs made it difficult to maintain the lead. Not to mention the lack of oxygen was hitting me.

  Claire was kicking my ass up to the top. And not once did she turn around to gloat. I wasn’t sure if I’d be as restrained if I were in her shoes—her dry, cozy warm shoes, with her perfectly round toes that weren’t shriveled like raisins.

  When we arrived at the part where we had to cross along a narrow ledge, clinging onto a thick rope, Claire peeled one of her gloves off and said, “Don’t argue. I won’t have you falling off this mountain. Not with two kids to support.”

  The rope was coarse and about two inches thick. I appreciated her offer and slipped on the glove, which was still warm.

  “Don’t look down,” the guide instructed as I stared into a sea of nothingness. The long way down looked deceptively peaceful. All the surefooted guides stood behind their groups, not clutching to the ropes, giving me some peace of mind the ledge wasn’t as treacherous as the darkness made it seem.

  An individual a few people in front of us lost her footing and grasped the rope, causing it to tighten. My ungloved hand crashed into the rock wall, and even in the dark, I knew I was bleeding. I glanced to ensure Claire was okay, and she didn’t even seem to notice the kerfuffle. Out of the two of us, she seemed like the more experienced traveler, even though I had made a name for myself as JJ Cavendish, World Traveler Extraordinaire. All of her training had paid off, and my lack of preparation was showing. My forty-something years were starting to catch up with me, no
t to mention I hadn’t been an adventurer for well over five years. Becoming a business mogul, which entailed tedious board and editorial meetings, networking with potential advertisers, and countless hours chained to a desk, was making me soft.

  ***

  Hours later, whispers of sunlight announced we only had minutes before the big show. Our guide ushered us to the Taman Kinabalu Low’s Peak sign announcing we’d climbed 4,095.2 meters over the past day and a half. We shoved our headlamps to the top of our heads for the photo op that would prove we made it to our destination. A fence, consisting of four wires and a wooden pole every so many feet, offered the only protection to prevent weary climbers from tumbling off the rocky edge. By this point, though, endorphins whooshed through my body, making me feel alive and powerful.

  We stepped to the side for the next group’s photo op and watched the sunrise in awe. Claire’s face radiated happiness mixed with a decent dose of relief. The muscles around my mouth were just as tight as the ones in my legs. My heart rate was off the charts, and my breathing became erratic.

  “Exhausted?” Claire asked, not wasting the energy on unnecessary words.

  I circled her waist with my arm and didn’t speak. The sunrise stole the show, allowing me a moment’s peace. It was hard to believe the yellow orb inching its way upward was the same one we’d watched go down two days ago while safely tucked away at a seaside restaurant. From where I stood on the sheer angular granite surface of the summit, 13,426 feet in the air, clouds hugged the sides of the mountain and spread along the horizon, which gave the illusion of a cozy bed, but I knew better. One wrong step and it would be adios JJ.

  That wasn’t the source of my unease. In another minute or two, I was going to do something I had wanted to do since the moment I fell in love with Claire so many years ago.

  The guide hung back, letting us enjoy the moment after all the hard work.