Mara was lucky to have found a place to live off of South Street. It was within walking distance of the strange shops and boutiques that lined the long inner city road for one thing but it was also close enough to the station she worked out of for her to ride her bike.

The flat itself was actually part of a row house but it was moderate by standards. Outside it resembled a Boston brownstone with a set of cement steps and a small stoop but once inside the door it seemed a lot larger than imagined. Her décor was minimal with a compact living room set she’d purchased second hand, a flake board computer desk angled into the corner of the living room and a few art prints she’d bought from one of the South street galleries. If nothing else, it was cozy.

"I know its not much Max but its mine. I mean it belongs to the bank but I’m making the mortgage payments and building a little equity. I don’t reckon I’ll be here for the rest of my life but this house will be easy to sell." She watched him move, methodically touching everything from the little chachka’s on the top of her desk to the material of the sofa.

"I’m sure its nothing compared to what you’re used to."

He turned to look at her. He was holding one of her cow parade figurines as if he felt some kind of affinity with it.

"His name is Maximus. He’s a commemorative cow from the film Gladiator. I started collecting them when I found the one holding the globe in its mouth at the thrift shop. I know, odd eh?"

Grinning, Max replaced the cow to the desk. "I believe Maximus would be a she. Cows are female."

"I reckon you’re right, mate, but the five o’clock shadow prevents me from seeing it as a she. It does have an udder thought. Ambiguous little bovine." Moving toward him, she reached for his hand. "C’mon Max, I’ll show you to your room then we’ll head over to South Street and grab a pizza if you’re up to it. I still can’t believe you’re doing so well. I thought you were a goner."

"Mara." He pulled back on her hand as she tried to lead him. "I don’t think I’ve thanked you properly for what you did." Max tugged her into his arms and hugged her tight. At first it made her uncomfortable and she tensed nearly withdrawing but something told her this was okay.

"Thank you. Not only for saving my life but for this, for giving me a place to be until…."

"It’s okay Max. No one knows what its like to feel alone in the world more than me, mate. I came here on a wing and a prayer you know? I didn’t know anyone, didn’t have a job and had very little dosh but so far it’s worked out." Leaning against his embrace, she looked up into his eyes. ‘What happened to you is worse and believe me I don’t go inviting strangers into my home every day, especially not here in Philly. I don’t know why I made an exception with you Max." Looking into his eyes gave her an odd sensation. For the moment she felt as if they’d met someplace before. That’s impossible, simply not plausible at all but his face, those eyes, that mouth. What the fuck? Was she so lonely that she brought him here because she was physically attracted to him? Withdrawing from his embrace she muttered the word "Damn."

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked, cocking his head in query.

"No, mate, there’s nothing wrong it’s just…for a moment I thought we’d met before." If she were going to be completely honest she would have said...for a moment there I felt like kissing you, Max.

"If it’s any consolation, I felt it too. Perhaps we did cross paths somewhere."

"Déjà vu maybe eh?"

"That’s most likely what it is." He dropped his arms, fully releasing her. "Show me the rest of the flat. Who knows? Something may come to one of us. There has to be an explanation to who I am and what I’m doing in Philadelphia."

The awkward moment passed as she found a little humor in herself. "Mate, I still don’t know quite who I am and I don’t have any bloody idea why I chose Philly, maybe its just fate or maybe I just wanted a cheese steak from Pats."

"What the hell is a cheese steak?"

"It’s a local treat, a kind of sarnie that you wear more than eat. I reckon you can get them in other parts of the world but they originated here. Thanks to my mates at work I’ve learned how to eat one without making too much of a mess."

"It sounds divine Mara, simply divine."

"How…English of you." She chuckled. Mara nudged her head toward the staircase, motioning for him to follow her. He could hardly keep his eyes off of her well shaped arse as she climbed the steps in front of him but he had to wonder if she ever wore a dress. The blue BDU trousers she had on were typical for paramedics with their thick seams and bellow pockets but there was nothing feminine about them except the way she filled them. Outwardly there was nothing feminine about her either but he was thinking it was a façade, some kind of protective wall.

"This is it. It’s not the Hilton, mate, but its all yours for as long as you need it." She pushed the door to her spare bedroom open and stepped aside to let him enter. The first thing he noticed was the smell of clean cotton and the second thing he noticed was how tidy the room was. The bed was made with sharp corners and a forest green duvet covered it. There was a tall boy dresser with a lamp and its matching mate sat on the bed table. Another mirrored dresser sat against the wall off the foot of the bed.

‘It’s much nicer than any Hilton I’ve ever stayed in, Mara."

"Did you just remember something?"

"I don’t think so."

"Max, were you staying at the Philly Hilton by chance? I didn’t think of it but we could check some of the hotels in the city to see if there is a man by the name of Maximilian registered. The Four Seasons might be another good one to check. Bloody hell, I’d be willing to cut off an appendage to see the inside of that place."

"It’s nothing special, love. Overpriced suites filled with standard hotel accoutrements all revolving around a four star restaurant. I can think of a hundred other places I’d rather show to you."

"Name them! Max , you’re remembering stuff, bloody brilliant, mate! Tell me where. Tell me what you’d show me first."

He got a strange look on his face. Max sat down on the bed and closed his eyes. "Fields." He replied. "I’d show you vast fields of lavender so pungent in their offerings that you’d think you’d died and gone to heaven. Nothing smells as magnificent as lavender in the morning when the dew begins to dissipate from the heat of the sun. Nothing except maybe a vintage wine aged to perfection. It’s all in the picking of the grapes you know? If you time it just right their at their peak sweetness then you have something special.’ He affirmed his statement with a nod.

Mara was mesmerized by him. It had everything to do with the passion in his voice as he spoke of the fields she could only imagine but he painted such a beautiful picture. She found herself sitting on the bed next to him with her eyes closed as well.

"I can see it, I can smell it. Oh, god Max, is that where you came from?"

"I don’t know." He sighed "London sounds correct but I’m feeling this place with the grapes and lavender is very special to me."

"You did say something about France at the hospital. We could check the computer. Maybe we’ll find some pictures that will bring more to light for you. I could order the pizza to be delivered but there’s one problem."

He turned his head to her and smiled. "What’s that then?"

"I’m afraid I don’t have a single bottle of wine in the house with the exception of one. Riuniti Lambrusco. It’s cheap, sweet and has a screw cap." Her complexion was redder then the wine she described.

"Good then. We won’t have to wait while it breathes." He chuckled. "There is something you could do for me Mara. I hope this isn’t asking too much. You’ve done so much already but…could you put a dress on for dinner?

"A dress? You must be daft. What brought that up?"

"Yes, a dress. I’d like to see you in a dress. You do own one right?"

Mara nodded. "I’ve got several but I can’t remember the last time I bloody wore one."

"You won’t be able to say that tomorrow. Not unless you wake up lost like I did. God forbid."

"Got that bloody well right…..okay, for you Max, I’ll go put on a dress." She flashed him a smile and stood to go change. He took her hand in his and gripped tight.

"Mara. I have this odd feeling that I’ve never been able to trust anyone. For some reason I trust you. I can’t explain it but I do. I feel like I know you."

Placing her hand on his stubbled cheek she bent down to kiss it but he turned his head and caught her mouth with his. Her thoughts were sucked away so fast she could have mistaken the thump of her heart for a sonic boom. The gentle melding of their mouths became a more urgent exploration as their tongues lashed together. The men had the art of kissing down to a science and… guess who the scientist’s lab rat was? She was spiraling down,..down,..down, then suddenly with a shudder, Mara pulled away with a gasp.

"What the fuck just happened?"

He fired the second shot by flashing her boyish grin. "I remembered something." He replied. "I remembered what it was like to kiss a beautiful woman. I wonder how much more I can recall." He felt a surge inside and a little bit of the true Max Skinner began to surface. He knew he’d been in charge of something. He knew he had power and arrogance and somewhere there was money, lots of money. "

"Right, mate. You’re sleeping beauty and I’m princess charming." Mara brought her hand to her forehead. The kiss left her woozy and confused in its suddenness.

"I could think of worse ways to get my memory back."

"Hold on, mate." I have no idea who you really are first off. I don’t fuck around and I didn’t plan on this happening when I brought you back here."

"Just what I like, direct responses. I have no idea who I am either, love, but hey, if kissing you brings it back I say we go for it."

"Ah well Max, it takes two to tango and dancing isn’t on my agenda right now. Maybe some pizza and cheap wine will have the same effect on you. "

"I’m not sure I like the sound of it as much as I like the sound of amour."

"I’m not sure about the alternative. I have to be sure you know? Past experience and all tells me to tread lightly when it comes to matters of the heart. Amour!"

"Tell me what his name is, the one who broke your dear heart. I’ll shatter his portfolio. He’ll be standing on a street corner with a tin cup."

"You could do that? Who are you really? How could someone who works a vineyard be able to …I’m so bloody confused. Ten minutes ago, I really liked you but now I’m not sure."

"Did you like it?"

"What?"

"The kiss."

She paused for a moment. The corner of her mouth twitched into a half smile and she replied. "Yeah, I did. Do you really think I’m beautiful?"

"Yes. You’re very beautiful."

‘Ah ha. I know you better already, Max. You’re so full of shit your eyes are brown."

"Actually they’re blue or green depending on my mood and surroundings. Mara, believe me you are a stunning woman. Of course I have to look beyond the fact that you dress like a man and you swear like a sailor but there is something about your eyes. The color is unusual and your hair, what’s it look like down? "

‘Remember something else and I might show you." She touched the top of her head feeling the tight plait in her hair. Rarely out of the tight braid, it’s actually quite long.

"It’s Skinner."

"What’s Skinner."

"My last name is Skinner. Now let your hair down for me."

Her eyes grew wide at the tone in his voice. Skinner had done a one eighty from his original self but she saw the humor in his eyes. Who ever he was before his memory loss, he must have been an arrogant son of a bitch at times but it was also obvious he had heart. ‘Is that an order?"

"I’m a guest in your home. Who am I to give you orders, love?"

"You’re Max Skinner. We know that much now. Instead of fiddle fucking around with flirting, we should concentrate on finding out exactly where you came from. I don’t reckon we’re going to see your face on a milk carton."

"I must admit, you have such an eloquent way of putting things. Yes, we can dispense with the fiddle fucking around, but you promised to let your hair down Mara. Please do."

"You certainly seem to have a way with words yourself. I’m Aussie, what’s your excuse?"

"Kiss me again and I’ll remember it, promise."

"Max Skinner, are you trying to seduce me?"

"Oh gosh, of course not, the thought would never even cross my mind. Not more then six, ten times.’

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