Chapter Twenty-Four

Allen's office is located in the business district of town. Since it was Friday afternoon, I should have known every parking space along the one way southbound street would be taken. I spotted a woman getting into her car a few spaces down from Allen's office building. I made a quick left at the light and circled back around the block. Just as I turned off Broadway and back onto Front Street, the woman whipped her little Toyota into the late afternoon traffic.

With fingers crossed on the steering wheel, I asked for some heavenly intervention. "Please. Please keep the space open till I get there."

The car ahead of me slowed to a crawl as it approached the vacant parking space. I was just about to curse it when the driver seemed to change his mind and speed on by.

I thought it only appropriate to glance heavenward and issue a sincere "thank you" before putting complete concentration on what I was doing, which was trying to back a very large car into a very short space to the tune of horns honking to my left and rear. With the mission accomplished, I gave out a heavy sigh of relief.

Then I was ready to make a mad dash for the brick three story sandwiched between two others. But before I slid over onto the passenger's seat to get out on that side, I reminded myself I had an ankle injury. Just because a torrential downpour began smacking into everything in its path, didn't mean I should risk further injury by trying to keep from getting drenched. I did pay close attention to where I was stepping, but I didn't waste any time getting myself under roof, either.

The pretty young thing at the reception desk started to look up at me with a smile, until she got a good look at me. I'm not sure her face soured by the way I must have looked, or if it was because she recognized me as Allen's ex. I didn't really care much what thought went through her little blonde head. I had important business to take care of.

"Is Allen here?"

"Sorry. He's away at a meeting," I was told.

"He will be returning to the office today though, right?"

"Hello, Fay," Miss Husband Stealer greeted as she strolled up beside me.

"I need to see Allen," is how I greeted her. Then demanded, "Do you know where he is?"

"He is in a meeting. But he should be back-" She cut herself off long enough to look at her diamond studded gold wristwatch. Probably a gift from my love-struck ex. "Half hour, tops. If you'd like, I can have him call-"

"I'll wait."

"Suit yourself," she said before polished and perfectly straight teeth flashed when she smiled.

I watched her wiggle down the hallway and weave into an office. Then I looked around to the cushioned chairs behind me. I was tempted to fall into one, give the foot a rest, dry off, but I couldn't do it. Too many mixed emotions were storming through me to spend the next half hour being observed from near and far by Allen's enticing blonde workers.

I made my way back to the car. As I pulled the door shut behind me on the passenger's side, I eyed the glove compartment. My tongue slowly moistened upper, then lower lip, as I stared. That was before I looked around like a kid sneaking candy before a meal. Seeing the coast was clear, I opened the compartment and latched onto the pack of cigarettes. Another quick peek to my left and right as I slid back over behind the wheel.

My fingers had the pack of smokes ripped open before the conclusion of the flash of lightning outside the car. I could taste-smell the lit cigarette before I had it situated between my fingers. For a split second, I gave thought to what I was doing. The next second, my lips closed around the filter tip, while my index finger pushed in the car's cigarette lighter.

If my lips hadn't dried fast to the cigarette, I know it would have fallen from my mouth with the unexpected tapping sound on the passenger's side window.

The instant I saw Mitch, the thought of hitting the main button that locked the doors, torpedoed through my head. But the way water was running off the tip of his cowboy hat, I took pity on him and kept my finger off the button.

Mitch took his hat off and tossed it on the floor before he dove inside. As he straightened up in the seat, the cigarette lighter popped back, signaling it was ready to burn.

I didn't reach for it, but Mitch did. He raised it to the tip of the cigarette still hanging from my mouth, but didn't touch red circle glow to tobacco and paper. He did offer words of encouragement. "Go ahead. It's the answer to all your problems."

Our eyes temporarily locked in conversation.

I am the one who blinked first and proceeded to slowly remove the cigarette from between my lips. Then I looked over into midnight-blue eyes. Our mouths exchanged these little smiles.

"How is it you always seem to show up just at the right moment, Mitchell Malone?"

His answer came by way of the arm he slid around my shoulder and used to draw me close. We stayed like that, me with my head on his chest, him with his arm around me, holding me close, saying nothing, while rain slashed and crashed around us.

"Feeling better?" Mitch said several minutes later.

I tilted my head back so I was looking up into a contented face. "My daughter's eloping this weekend."