Where Would I Be Without You (30 page)

He cocked his head and with a squint of his eyes; he reached up
, slide his glasses back down and draped his hand back over his wheel looking straight ahead.  “Farther than you’d want to walk those pretty new shoes of yours.”

How did he know my shoes where new?  Christ did I have immature stupid written on my
forehead.  I sensed Mr. Smith and I, if that was even his real name, were not going to be new BFFs.  As if.  Asshole.  “No thanks.  I’ll enjoy the walk into town.”

He grumbled
something, then started to raise the window and drove about two feet.  The Range Rover stopped again and this time, he shut it off and out walked a very tall and fit man with the type of features that read rich, yet laid-back man.  He walked with confidence.  His leather flip-flops matched his worn jeans.  However, not his pricey cotton tee or his expensive shades or brand new Range Rover.  He had money, but he had attitude as well.  His blonde hair and blue eyes made him look clean cut.  His lean athletic body shape did things to my body that any healthy normal woman would respond this way.  I cut myself some slack for feeling any sort of attraction on looks alone.

I took a step back almost scared he was coming at me at such a fast clip.  He stopped just short of the cliff we were next to and pointed out to a large boulder on a rocky cliff
on a mountaintop quite a ways over.  “Well, sweetheart.  If you insist on walking, you might want to head straight down this hill and hike the next to walk straight down the next.  Town is down that hill from that boulder there.  On the other hand, you can catch a ride with me and be there in less than fifteen minutes.  Your choice.  I leave in ten… nine… eight…seven…”  He was talking to me like a child.

I stopped him short.  I put my hands up in the air.  “I get it.”  I examined my predator for a split second.  His facial features softened quite a bit.  The sun was starting to fall in the
sky, and it lit up the back of his curly blonde hair like a halo.  His hair was just shy of his neck with little light wispy curls on the edge of it.  His blue eyes were intense when they weren’t hiding behind sunglasses and his face aged him somewhere in his thirties, possibly ten years older than my twenty-five.  He was most likely far more educated and mature then I had ever been.

I jumped in the Range Rover’s passenger seat and
clicked the seatbelt in.  I felt messed up.  I should have just grabbed a few clothes and started hitch hiking my way to the nearest motel six and try to get a waitress job at a local café.  Because at this particular moment, I knew exactly what Sabrina was laughing at while sitting in the Caribbean lounge about - me.

The first minute of the drive down, the now very windy road
, was quiet between Mr. Mike Smith and me.  I should be thankful to my knight in shining armor.  He certainly knew how to act put out.  With a slow intake of breath, I composed myself and turned to a man with extremely handsome features once he seemed more relaxed.  “Sorry.”  I whispered softly from my lips, as I let out a light puff of air.

“No sorry needed.  I just get the impression you have no idea how far it is to town when your
limo driver dropped you off.”

Nice
, he saw the whole show.  I tapped my fingers against my legs.  Now I had no freaking clue where I was or how far.  How the hell, do I say that without coming out looking like Queen Stupid.

A few more minutes
passed, and we were still deep in mountain country on a single-lane dirt road.  Shit we were far from town.  I was going to need a car, and I don’t think a thousand dollars was going to get me much.  Shit.  Shit.  Shit.

“I get the impression something’s amiss?”  His voice had a timber smooth sound to it
, a serious sound to it.

My
voice, on the other hand, sounded squeaky and high-pitched.  “No.  What makes you say that?”  I kept my eyes adverted from him as I knew I was a lousy liar.

He slowed the Ranger for a sharp curve and then started straight again.  This time we were off the main mountain we lived on and next to the riverbed.  I
saw a few other houses along the way that looked far from the road.

“Hmm.”  His voice sounded speculative of me
, rightly so.  I was wondering myself what everyone would think about me, and my new humble abode.  Looking for a job in a small mountain town can be hard if no one knows you.

The river looked beautiful.  I found myself getting lost in the scenery.  The soft mediation music coming from the Range Rovers speakers reminded me of my last massage I got last weekend.  I d
id not think I would be getting too many more of those anytime soon.

“Hmm.”  This time it was louder, along with the taping of his fingers against the steering
wheel; I got the impression, he was not going to let this go.

“How much of the limo driver dropping me off did you see?”  My voice sounded weak and wimpy.

He didn’t speak up right away, and then he slowed the Rover to a stop along side of the river and turned and looked at me.  “None.  Why? What was there to see?”

I looked at him not sure, if he was lying or telling the truth.  “Nothing.  Nothing at all. 
However, you said you saw the limo driver drop me off.”

“I didn’t say that.  What I saw was a limo coming up the road as I was driving into town.  When I got
back, the porch of ol’ man Kunz’s place was loaded with more expensive luggage than I’ve seen in a while and no one in sight.  My journalistic aptitude assumed that was you in the limo, and the luggage belong to you.  My next question is why in the heck are you there?”

I swallowed hard.  Why was I there?  Could I spill the truth?  Yeah right.  Who in the heck would believe me?  I did what I did best when backed into a corner and reflected the subject back to the man.  Which every man loved, didn’t he?  “So?  You’re a journalist?  For what
, like Time or National Geographic or some big news gig?”  I sounded too enthusiastic for myself.

The
Rover started up and raced down the road at a much faster clip than before.  The silence dreaded on.  I had not answered his question, and he had not answered mine.

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Sample Chapters of
Settled For The Special

Chapter One

The pounding rain had created slick muddy roads that were not boding well for decent driving in my small commuter car.  The ten-inch tires and great gas mileage worked well in my daily commutes back home but for this barren land on the drive into Hope Spring Falls, WY, it was singing a different tune.  My silver four-door commuter car was all mud covered, and my tires kept sliding in the ruts.  My knuckles were white and my fingers blue from the death grip I had from holding on to the steering wheel for the last hour.

To help keep a calming reserve to my mental status, I spoke aloud to myself.  "Hope Forrester, how the heck do you keep getting yourself into this mess?"  I took a moment to look into my rearview mirror and noticed the red rim of my cried out eyes.  My brown hair appeared to be in a bit of disheveled mess in a ponytail about to fall out.  I pulled out the band that had held my hair up and ran a hand quickly through it before needing to grasp the steering wheel tightly again.

I kept asking myself mentally, over and over, why I felt the need to pack up, leave my well-paid job and move to the first place that looked well, hopeful for a new beginning.  On the map, it looked close to civilization but far enough away from my troubles, that I would feel safe.  This four-hour drive was turning into six with all the high winds and low visibility from this unsuspecting terrible storm.

With the constant words of ‘WHY?’ circling
my brain, my hands were suddenly forced to turn the wheel into the ditch as a resounding ‘pop’ exploded under my car.

“For the love of Pete!” 
I hollered at myself, inside my car.  No amount of soothing country music on my car speakers was going to cheer me up.  I was sure the pop was a flat, and I was in a ditch no bigger than a foot deep.  Nevertheless, that foot might as well felt like the canyon lands with my small tires spinning in mud as I tried to ease back up on the main road to have a flat surface to change my tire.

With one
hand, I shut off my car and then reached over and turned down the happy-go-lucky country songs I had been trying to listen to in hope that music would cheer me up.  I reached down to my floorboard to locate my cell phone in my purse; I heard the load drum of tires from a cattleman’s truck quickly blazing by my car in the ditch.  By the time I sat upright, it was red taillight city.  I gave a middle finger salute to the decent human being in the truck as their taillights faded fast into the drizzling rainy night.  I prayed cell service to call my new landlord and ask for help, because without cell service, I would be, well, in a ditch.

Oddly enough when
I located Hope Spring Falls on the map, I had no idea what to expect.  Only the heart filled, cheery words of the woman, who the real estate agent put me in touch with to rent from.  A home that was just about the only available home.  Julie Hoffman, my new landlord, talked like a prom queen recipient and made Hope Springs Falls out to be the home of Andy Griffin and Gomer Pile, a real Mayberry experience.  A white picket community with cherry pie festivals and true all American lure.  I was sold on the appeal of a laid-back break from my very chaotic life that just happened.  I didn’t ask why the all American prom queen had her house up for rent; I was just glad it was.

Since Julie Hoffman’s cell number was the only local number
I had, I went ahead and dialed it hoping she was home, and could help me get a tow truck.  By the fifth ring, I was about to give up knowing a message would kick in on the next ring.  I started to cry inwardly with just the feel of the tears streaming down my face.  I couldn't hold back the emotions as I felt so raw from everything that just recently happened to me.

The sappy sweetness of Julie’s breathy voice yanked
me out of my dark spiraling hole I felt like crawling into.  “Hope.  Honey is that you?  Are you there?  I couldn’t find my silly phone in this cute new knock off purse I bought on the strip yesterday.”

I
listened to her rambling on and realized I had not even breathed a word.  That Julie must have recognized me by caller I.D. on her phone, and if I did not talk quick, I might not get a word in.  “Julie!  I’m stuck out on the county road with a flat, and my car drove itself into a ditch!”

“Oh my!  Listen I am in
L.A., but I can call the local tow service, Walker Towing.  Listen I don’t have my phone list on this adorable new phone I just got.  Call information and ask for the home number of Bob Walker, and if he isn’t there, call the Walker Café.  Bob and Cindy run the main local eats.  Listen I gotta run, my Bob, my fiancé Bob, just walked in.  I think I told you that I am engaged to be married.  If not, listen, I will call tomorrow to see how you’re settling in.  Have any problems, call Cindy at the cafe, and she’ll set you right up.  Bye now!”

The click of her call was a
ll I heard.  The fast smooth talk, from the prom queen high on love and engagement, and then click, she was gone.  Just like my life.  Just like the moment I walked in on my lover and boss, Hugh Finley, of Morris, Parks and Finley Law Firm –my employers.  Hugh was doing some type of desktop tango with non-other than his snotty, always deviant, secretary, Ms. Nelson.  Little petite domestic diva, Ms. Nelson, who always seemed to forget that my personal messages needed to get to the top of the pile to Hugh.  Moreover, the second I saw him pounding his secretary, in the sexual tense, over his desk it all came clear.  The constant need for him to be working later hours, with new clients I never heard of, in board meetings.

His only explanation
, as I laid my notice of leave on his desk, was that his secretary meant nothing to him.  He just saw her as the perfect housewife to his attorney lifestyle, and I was the one he truly loved.  That they could make this threesome work.  Wow, that was the blow that sunk the titanic.  I had to wonder what I ever saw in that man.

My
tough thick skin attitude that I acquired through my life from being raised by a poor single mom did not allow the emotions to surface.  I just laid my resignation on his desk and turned with my already packed suitcase and two letters of recommendation from the other partners, which were good, as long as I did not sue the company.  Along with a nice year's salary pay, to hush my lips while I was at it.

I
knew the drill and heard of it happening to others, but never did I think it would happen to my street-smart brain.  If this is where romance and love led you, in the ditch, on a county road to a Podunk town in the middle of rancher land, then I did not need love or romance anymore.  I just needed a short leave of absence to clear my head.  The six-month lease I had to sign was not one I intended on staying in the full time but would pay the renter out.  I was very happy to find out that my landlord left the house fully stocked with essentials and furniture, letting me leave most of my belongings in storage.   That should make my temporary transition of what to do with my life next, that much easier.  At this point, I didn't know if I wanted to go back or move forward and start anew somewhere else.

Just as
I dialed information, the brightness of headlights illuminated my car, and it looked like a tow truck.  ‘Thank you guardian angel!’  I spoke to myself to reassure my nerves.  I wiped my eyes of any mascara runs and ran a few fingers through my messy hair.