the river.
Angela didn’t quite make it, as her sandal hung up on a protruding paver,
sending her hurtling towards the ground.
The
pain in her knees hardly registered as the force of the fall propelled her
forward to land on her chest, narrowly escaping a crushing blow to her face.
She lay inert, stunned, wallowing more in self-pity than rainwater. Slowly and
with great deliberation, she rose to a sitting position inspecting the damage
done to her body, finding a gaping hole in her pant leg and a bloody gash on
her knee. The scrapes on the heels of both hands, earned in her attempt at
breaking her fall, burned and tinged the surrounding skin blood-red. All in
all, she hadn’t hit her head and that was a blessing. For if she had, and
sustained complications hindering her recovery from the concussion, not only
would the pain have impacted her body, but her livelihood as well.
Angela’s
state of mind dictated she throw caution to the wind. Her current predicament
consumed her where she sat. She was no more cognizant of the need for a rapid
recovery than she was of Chance’s approach or his signaling wave. Slowly, she
lifted herself to a bench, eyes glued to the broken strap dangling in her hand.
She startled when he dropped to the seat beside her, surprised to see anyone
there in that weather, especially him.
Her
eyes focused on the wood sliver he twirled around with his tongue before he
obediently…and with enormous fanfare… withdrew it from his mouth to flip it
away.
“Your
parents are worried out of their minds.” He tried to keep the accusatory tone
to a minimum. The strap that fit between the toes flapped as she examined the
sandal in an attempt to make the repair. Her big-eyed look was so pitiful it
became incumbent on him to give it a try.
“I
tripped.” She let him take her shoe.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.” He was an inept
cobbler. Chance folded his big hand around the sandal and rose with his other
hand on her elbow.
“I’ll
take a taxi when I’m ready to go home.”
Scrutinizing
her, he strenuously disagreed. “You might be offered a ride, all right, but not
from anyone with your best interest at heart. Look at yourself, Angela.” Her
soaked clothing left nothing to the imagination as every stitch in her lacy bra
showed through the material of her blouse and her breasts proudly saluted him.
He
was sadly mistaken if he thought she would succumb and go running for cover.
“How did you find me?”
“It
wasn’t easy,” was all he would say. After Lee and Connie came over for lunch
and discovered her a no-show, they asked him for help, omitting the details of
why she would slip off. But he knew, somewhat, for the reasons floated down to
him on the wind. Combing her neighborhood brought him no closer to finding her.
Finally, he called in a favor and had a personal APB put out on her
description.
“As
you can see I’m fine. I just need quiet time to think and I won’t find that at
home with them there.”
“You
don’t look fine to me. You’re soaked to the bone, bleeding at the knee and
risking your future if your hands aren’t cared for immediately.” He knew that
last part got her attention. “I live nearby. You can change and get the
first-aid required for those scrapes.”
She
weighed the pros and cons of his suggestion.
Chance
dashed water from his face since the rain continued to fall. “What do you say?”
“I
don’t want to put you out…after the way I’ve treated you.”
Contrary
to popular belief, he didn’t hold grudges. She said she was sorry for her
insulting behavior and he’d accepted. “Bygones are bygones,” is all he said as
he led her away.
Angela
straddled Chance’s Harley after he fastened his helmet under her neck, her
whole body trembling and not necessarily from the chill as the closeness of his
virile body. Her arms circled his waist causing her to lean heavily against his
back. That was a two-fold act serving to secure her seat on the
Angela didn’t quite make it, as her sandal hung up on a protruding paver,
sending her hurtling towards the ground.
The
pain in her knees hardly registered as the force of the fall propelled her
forward to land on her chest, narrowly escaping a crushing blow to her face.
She lay inert, stunned, wallowing more in self-pity than rainwater. Slowly and
with great deliberation, she rose to a sitting position inspecting the damage
done to her body, finding a gaping hole in her pant leg and a bloody gash on
her knee. The scrapes on the heels of both hands, earned in her attempt at
breaking her fall, burned and tinged the surrounding skin blood-red. All in
all, she hadn’t hit her head and that was a blessing. For if she had, and
sustained complications hindering her recovery from the concussion, not only
would the pain have impacted her body, but her livelihood as well.
Angela’s
state of mind dictated she throw caution to the wind. Her current predicament
consumed her where she sat. She was no more cognizant of the need for a rapid
recovery than she was of Chance’s approach or his signaling wave. Slowly, she
lifted herself to a bench, eyes glued to the broken strap dangling in her hand.
She startled when he dropped to the seat beside her, surprised to see anyone
there in that weather, especially him.
Her
eyes focused on the wood sliver he twirled around with his tongue before he
obediently…and with enormous fanfare… withdrew it from his mouth to flip it
away.
“Your
parents are worried out of their minds.” He tried to keep the accusatory tone
to a minimum. The strap that fit between the toes flapped as she examined the
sandal in an attempt to make the repair. Her big-eyed look was so pitiful it
became incumbent on him to give it a try.
“I
tripped.” She let him take her shoe.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.” He was an inept
cobbler. Chance folded his big hand around the sandal and rose with his other
hand on her elbow.
“I’ll
take a taxi when I’m ready to go home.”
Scrutinizing
her, he strenuously disagreed. “You might be offered a ride, all right, but not
from anyone with your best interest at heart. Look at yourself, Angela.” Her
soaked clothing left nothing to the imagination as every stitch in her lacy bra
showed through the material of her blouse and her breasts proudly saluted him.
He
was sadly mistaken if he thought she would succumb and go running for cover.
“How did you find me?”
“It
wasn’t easy,” was all he would say. After Lee and Connie came over for lunch
and discovered her a no-show, they asked him for help, omitting the details of
why she would slip off. But he knew, somewhat, for the reasons floated down to
him on the wind. Combing her neighborhood brought him no closer to finding her.
Finally, he called in a favor and had a personal APB put out on her
description.
“As
you can see I’m fine. I just need quiet time to think and I won’t find that at
home with them there.”
“You
don’t look fine to me. You’re soaked to the bone, bleeding at the knee and
risking your future if your hands aren’t cared for immediately.” He knew that
last part got her attention. “I live nearby. You can change and get the
first-aid required for those scrapes.”
She
weighed the pros and cons of his suggestion.
Chance
dashed water from his face since the rain continued to fall. “What do you say?”
“I
don’t want to put you out…after the way I’ve treated you.”
Contrary
to popular belief, he didn’t hold grudges. She said she was sorry for her
insulting behavior and he’d accepted. “Bygones are bygones,” is all he said as
he led her away.
Angela
straddled Chance’s Harley after he fastened his helmet under her neck, her
whole body trembling and not necessarily from the chill as the closeness of his
virile body. Her arms circled his waist causing her to lean heavily against his
back. That was a two-fold act serving to secure her seat on the
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