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Monday Puzzler
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7th June 2021
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“Are you always this much trouble?” a deep voice asked.
Eyes shut tight, I sighed. I was too tired and humiliated to offer a witty comeback. “My phone and purse are in your car.”
Several seconds passed before he spoke again. “Are you going to get up?”
“Give me a second. I was just attacked by an oak.”
“It’s a sycamore,” he corrected. Heartless. The man was absolutely heartless. “How are you getting home?”
I removed the hand from my forehead and checked for blood. Thankfully, it was clean.
“I was going to order another car, but you had my phone.”
He extended a hand. “Come on. I’ll take you.”
Desperate for this night to end, I slid my hand into his, which was strong and clean and twice the size of mine. Once upright, I straightened my clothes and brushed off my skirt, then retrieved the flat that had come off during my fall. The tree had literally knocked me out of my shoe.
“How does it look?” I asked, tilting my face up for his examination.
A warm thumb gently brushed my bangs aside. “You’re going to have an ugly bruise, but it didn’t break the skin.”
I shook my hair back into place, bringing on a sudden bout of vertigo.
“Whoa,” HERO mumbled, his hands on my upper arms. “You good?”
Blinking, I waited for the dizziness to pass before looking up again. Full lips curved down with concern as he watched me closely. I nearly reached out to touch them.
“I need to go home.”
My goodness what a w deregulation scene! Never read but I think I just might do so.
Oooh I only saw this now!!! It’s delightful!! Off I go to Amazon!
Mod
What a scene! I'm going to read this one :D
To my surprise, my date spun me in a circle and said, “You aren’t as pretty as Evelyn, but I like you.”
The move threw us both off-balance, sending me toppling into a passing couple and Peter onto his butt on the sidewalk. A pigeon squawked in protest before whooshing past my head, and after a sincere apology to the passersby, I attempted to lift my dance partner to his feet. For a man who looked as if he’d need to run around in the shower to get wet, he was quite heavy.
During the struggle, a white Buick pulled up to the curb. The passenger window slid down and a voice said, “HEROINE?”
My mother had blessed me with the name HEROINE, after her own mother, but to avoid confusion, the family had used my middle name HERROINE. That had been shortened to HERROINE by middle school. However, anything tied to a credit card was easier if I used my first name. A detail the drivers who shuttled me around the city had no need to know.
“Yes, that’s me,” I replied. “Are you HERO?” Normally, I would check the license plate to make sure I was climbing into the correct vehicle, but none of this was normal.
“I am.” The window went back up, and I spun to see Peter still on the ground.
“You have to stand up.” I tried lifting him from behind with no luck, then I switched to pulling from the front, but he still didn’t budge. At five foot two and barely one hundred pounds, I’d never been much of a power lifter. “Come on, Peter. Help me out here.”
As the challenge continued, the passenger window slid down again. “Are you getting in?”
Frustrated, I huffed the hair out of my face and said, “I can’t get him up.” That sounded far less dirty in my head.
Dark brows arched my way as an awkward silence passed. I feared he might drive off, but instead, he opened his door and climbed out. I hadn’t been able to see him well inside the car, but when he joined me on the sidewalk, my breath caught. At well over six feet, the man carried himself like one of those action heroes who never gets rattled.
The ones who have all the best lines, carried the perfect amount of scruff along their chiseled jawline, and morphed into a total badass when necessary. He also looked as if he’d walked right out of one of the Asian dramas I’d devoured on my rare nights off. The cheekbones alone could make a girl swoon.
“Time to get up, buddy.” HERO the Driver lifted Peter the Broker as if he weighed no more than a sack of groceries. Before I could recover, my date was safely in the back seat. “Your turn,” the driver said, glancing my way.
I emitted some sort of giggle slash snort combination before shuffling in beside Peter, trying not to suffocate on my embarrassment.
HERO closed the door and seconds later was back in the driver’s seat. The local rock station played on the radio, the volume just high enough to prevent total silence as the Buick cut through the early evening traffic with ease. Suddenly exhausted, I closed my eyes and thought about all the ways I was going to make Josie pay for this. Covering Peter’s half of dinner would be only the beginning.
Our driver seemed to know exactly where to turn to avoid both the daring pedestrians and the massive city buses that rarely yielded to other vehicles. As we rode in silence, I caught glimpses of him in the rearview mirror. He had a pleasant face, short dark hair, and full lips with a perfect bow shape along the top. Though he wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t scowling either, and I had the inexplicable feeling that I was in good hands. That I was safe.
Not that Pittsburgh was all that dangerous or that I feared other drivers. I was simply a person who never truly relaxed. It wasn’t in my nature. Yet as we sailed through the city streets, I felt lighter. As if the man in the front seat had everything under control, and for the next few minutes at least, I didn’t have to think about anything.
“Thank you,” I said, grateful once again that he hadn’t abandoned the ride. “I didn’t realize he would be that heavy.”
“No problem,” he replied, meeting my gaze in the mirror.
When our eyes met, a tingle swept up my spine. His gaze returned to the road and I gave myself a mental shake. What the heck was I doing? I was no better than Evelyn at this point. Not that I would be seeing Peter the Broker again, but I should at least refrain from picking up a new man while still on a date with him.
A laughable thought. I’d never picked up a man in my life, literally—obviously—or figuratively speaking. Brian and I had been high school sweethearts and I hadn’t dated since he’d… left.
The Buick made a quick right off Boulevard of the Allies onto Second Avenue, tossing Peter against my side. “Are we going home?” he asked.
“We are,” I replied.
“Did we have a good time?”
Doubtful he’d remember this conversation, I lied. “Loads.”
“I’m glad,” he said, dropping his head onto my shoulder.
“That makes one of us,” I muttered and caught HERO’s gaze in the mirror.
His expression changed and the disapproval hit like a smack. Bristling, I told myself to ignore him. Why should I care what a stranger I’d never see again thought of me? I was the one who’d endured an hour of listening to Peter whine about his ex-girlfriend and her tattletale lover. And I was the one whose neck he was currently breathing on.
With a gentle nudge, I sent my cohort back to his side of the car.
The trip up Second Avenue seemed to take forever and Peter’s head landed on my shoulder three more times. Thankfully, he wasn’t sober enough to try anything serious, and I did feel bad when I nudged him again and his head bounced off the car door window. This was his own fault though. I could have left him to fend for himself. Okay, I’d never do that, but someone else might have.
As we turned right onto the Hot Metal Bridge, Peter’s head smacked off the glass again.
Leaning over him, I positioned my purse as a pillow. “Lay on this.”
He settled against the soft pink leather with a sigh and a smile, his mind seemingly free of Evelyn, at least for now. At the end of the bridge, HERO made a left and turned into the parking lot of a large apartment building that looked to have been a factory in a former life.
“Here you go,” he announced.
I tapped Peter. “We’re here.” His eyes remained closed. “Peter? Are you awake?”
“Uh-huh.”
Why hadn’t I gotten coffee into him before ordering the car?
“You need to get out now.” Eyes still closed, he patted around for the door handle but found his own knee instead. I tossed the purse onto the seat beside me and reached across him. “I’ll get it.”
The door flew open and we both tumbled out. When Peter’s head hit the pavement, he grunted in pain, while his foot kicked me in the boob. My yelp was followed by a few choice words as I teetered between agony and humiliation. Half in the car and half out, I struggled to right myself, and when I finally reached a sitting position, I looked up to find our driver looming above us both.
“Can you get him inside?” he asked.
Knowing my limitations, I said, “Probably not, but I’m hoping he can walk.”
The driver scratched his head. “How much did he drink?”
“One glass of wine and four martinis.” I stood up, careful not to step on my date. “He told me he wasn’t going to get drunk.”
Squatting, he tapped Peter on the cheek. “He lied. Time to get up, buddy. Help your girlfriend out and get to your feet.”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” I corrected.
Brow arched, he looked up at me. “Does he know that?”
As if to answer for me, Peter said, “I love Evelyn.”
“See?” I replied. “He loves Evelyn.”
HERO shook his head. “Then can Evelyn help get him out from under my car?”
I hadn’t noticed that Peter’s feet were under the vehicle. If HERO tried to pull away, he’d have to run over my date to do it.
Kneeling down, I tapped Peter’s cheek as HERO had, only harder. “Come on. You have to wake up.” Tap, tap, tap. “Peter, wake up.”
Bushy brows furrowed. “Let me sleep a little longer.”
“On your feet,” HERO said, lifting the drunk man first to a sitting position, and then upright. “Steady now.” He slowly eased his hands away, allowing Peter to stand on his own. To me he said, “He’s all yours.”
“Thank you again.” I wedged myself under Peter’s right arm and moved us both out of the way so the beleaguered driver, who had already shown more patience than this situation deserved, could close the car door.
Four steps later, my cargo nearly collapsed. I managed to keep us upright, though I had no idea how. Our progress was slow, and I realized there were no doors in sight, nor did I see signs leading to an entrance. I also had no idea how to find Peter’s apartment. As I was about to ask for his apartment number, my load got lighter.
“Wha—”
“Which way is it?” HERO asked, shifting my useless date’s weight onto himself.
The man was too nice for his own good, and he definitely wasn’t going to like my answer.
“I don’t know.”
Brown eyes turned my way, and I was struck by the length of his eyelashes. He probably wouldn’t appreciate being called pretty, but that was the exact word that came to mind. Actually, he veered closer to beautiful.
“You don’t know?”
There was that judgmental glare again. “I just met him less than two hours ago.”
“Do you make a habit of picking up drunk men in bars and taking them home?”
I could hardly unpack all of the accusations in that statement.
“Not that I owe you any sort of explanation, but no, I do not. We were on a blind date, and he was sober when I met him. I had no idea he would get like this. If anything, you should be impressed that I’m going to such lengths to get a virtual stranger home safely.”
“You want credit when I’m the one carrying him?”
Touché.
“A mere technicality.” Arguing was getting us nowhere so I turned my attention to the source of my problem. “Peter, wake up. We need your apartment number.”
“Three oh four,” he replied.
HERO and I locked eyes, both surprised by the quick reply.
“You’re awake?” I said, pointing out the obvious.
“Who could sleep with you two making so much noise?”
Eyes half open, Peter stepped away from HERO, surveyed his surroundings, and then strolled down the sidewalk to our left. He swayed a bit but remained upright and continued on at a steady pace.
When he disappeared around the corner of the building I looked up at HERO. “What if he falls again?”
Heading back to his car, he said, “He’ll be fine.”
He was probably right. And if Peter didn’t make it all the way to his own door, surely a neighbor would find him sleeping it off somewhere in the building. Declaring the disaster of a date officially over, I spun toward my ride, only to find the Buick backing out of the parking space.
“Hey! Wait for me.”
Whether he hadn’t heard or was purposely ignoring me I didn’t know, but HERO drove out of the parking lot, leaving me once again in need of a ride. Now I had to order another car. With a sigh, I reached for my purse, but it wasn’t on my hip where it should have been.
“Oh no.” I patted myself down as if the pink Longchamps bag I’d bought in Paris might be tucked inside a secret pocket. Damn it, that was my favorite purse. And double damn, my phone was in it.
By some miracle, the white Buick was still sitting at the traffic light, and I broke into a run across the parking lot. I was thirty feet from reaching him when the light turned green, and I started screaming like a crazy woman.
“HERO! Wait! Wait!”
Arms flailing, I changed direction so he would see me as he rounded the corner. With my eyes locked on the moving car, I failed to spot the low-hanging branch before it smacked me in the forehead, sending me to the ground.