“It’s your counseling session, not mine. The dollars are adding up. Just let me know when you are ready to put me out of my misery and drop you off.”
“Well, that wasn’t very nice. I’m paying you handsomely so the least you could do is be nice.”
“I don’t do nice,” he says, gruffly.
I scrunch up my nose in an attempt to create an angry face at the grumpy driver. I inch my body forward to try to get a better look. It’s the first time I’ve actually looked at the man that I’ve spent the last few hours divulging my deepest insecurities to. The first thing I notice is the sandy colored hipster man-bun that sits on the back of his head. His chiseled jaw appears clenched. He does have a remarkable profile, with a nose sculpted to perfection. The five o’clock shadow hides just enough for intrigue. Beneath his thermal I see the shape of remarkably muscular biceps. The right sleeve is pushed up a bit, revealing tattoos covering his forearm. He is everything Henry is not. He can’t possibly digest the raw emotions of the situation. The front wheels hit an ice patch and the rear end swerves to the left. My body slams into the back of his seat. His muscular arms tug tight on the wheel to regain traction. In all my sobbing, I hadn’t paid much attention to the state of the roads or the crushing snowstorm barreling down on us.
My heart rises to my throat. It's the first time that I have proof I still have a heart after my inexcusable actions. “I, I guess we could do a drive by first,” my voice struggles to eek out.
“Is that Kelly Drive?”
“Yes, that’s the address.”
And what does ``drive by`` mean?” His eyes remain on the road. The car catches a slick slice of pavement, and we veer toward the curb.
The wheels struggle to gain traction on the icy pavement as my street comes into view. A wave of panic twists my stomach into a corset. “A drive by, I’m sure you did them a thousand times to see if a girl was home or had company etc. you know everyone does them.”
His blue eyes stretch under his raised eyebrows.
I continue, “I’ll lay down on the seat. You check if it’s safe to return.”
“What the hell does safe look like?” he barks.
“Tell me if Lola is in the window. If someone is home, she’s never in the window.”
“Who the hell is Lola?”
“She’s a white Shih tzu.” He shakes his head. I drop my body onto the seat. He pulls to a stop and the car continues to slide. “You can come up now. Your watch dog is still on duty. That will be $403.59.”
I’m propelled to an upright position. “You can’t be serious?”
“Dead serious. You hijacked my entire night. And I charge double in bad weather.”
Tears well up from deep inside, even though I was sure there were none left. “I, I’m sorry, you’re right. I messed up this whole night.” My fingers ruffle through my purse scrambling for money. I find a five in the zip front of the interior. A ten-dollar bill in my wallet and two crumpled dollar bills under my glass case.
“Oh, for God’s sake, just get out,” he barks.
“Take this. It’s all I have right now. If you come back tomorrow, I promise I’ll pay you the rest.”
“Lady, you couldn’t pay me enough to come back tomorrow.”
“Thank you, what did you say your name is?”
“I didn’t.”
I open the door and step out; ice engulfs my heel. One foot begins to slide to the left and the other heads right. Clinging mercilessly to the door handle, I struggle to get traction. My legs begin to delve into a straddle. He appears over me. He’s much taller than I expected. With one hand he scoops me up and props me onto my feet, then slams the door and heads to his side of the car.
My eyes meet his, I smile at his chivalry. With a half-crooked smile I say, “The weather is horrendous. Text me to let me know you got home okay.”
“Not gonna happen,” he says before jumping in the car, slamming his door, and driving away.
No comments:
Post a Comment