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“That’s a beautiful name.”
“Thank you,” I say.
I gather up my things from the bench and stand to head for the exit. Wilber looks toward the glass double doors that lead out to the parking lot.
“It’s late and there aren’t many cars out there besides the cleaning crew’s. Do you want me to walk out to your car with you?” he asks.
“Oh no. I’m sure you have work to do. I don’t want to trouble you.” I wave off his offer.
“Ok, well, I’ll at least walk out with you and take a look around the parking lot.”
“Thank you, Wilbur. That’s very considerate of you.” I smile over at him as we walk side by side to the main entrance of the building.
“I have three daughters of my own and if my wife knew I didn’t keep an eye out on a young lady out in a dark parking lot in the middle of the night, I’ll be sleeping on the couch tonight. Make no mistake about that.”
“Well, I wouldn’t want you out on the couch.” I wink.
He walks with me down to the curb of the parking lot and looks around to make sure there’s nothing in the parking lot to cause him concern. Once he’s satisfied, he turns to me.
“Good night, Juliet. Have a safe drive home.”
I step off the curb and onto the blacktop of the parking lot, though the glow of the parking lot lights reflects blue and orange off the wet asphalt.
“Good night,” I say over my shoulder with a smile and a quick wave and then he turns and heads back inside.
Ryker
The chill of the night bites into my skin as I push through the side exit of the stadium. The asphalt, slick with a sheen of ice under the moonlit sky, threatens to dump anyone on their ass if they’re not careful with each step.
Tonight's forecast: a plunge into the low 30s.
It’s just about midnight but that won’t stop the idiots driving like assholes in these road conditions.
Up ahead, a solitary figure caught in the glow of her cellphone screen navigates the icy terrain, oblivious to the lurking danger of the icy parking lot. She moves elegantly in a pair of heels and a tight fighting dress that wraps around her legs, stopping just above her toned calves. Her walking speed is at odds with the treacherous slick asphalt that she’s moving across.
A familiar set of team colors catches my eye.
She’s wearing a Hawkeyes jacket… and it has my number on it.
Number 19 with my name across her back. Her long thick, jet-black hair curled down to the middle of her back covers most of it, but I know it’s there.
It’s not unusual to see a woman in my jersey number coming out of the Hawkeyes stadium but something in the way she’s dressed and the confidence in her walk, makes this pairing seem unlikely.
“Miss,” I say to warn her, but she doesn’t hear me over whoever she’s talking to over the phone.
Those heels don’t stand a chance against the slippery surface. And if she doesn’t respect Mother Nature, she’ll end up lying flat on her back before she even reaches her car.
I catch a glint of reflected light on an icy patch only a few feet out in front of her.
I pick up my pace to get to her first.
I hear her voice echo around us as she continues her conversation.
“I know it’s a lot of money, Mom, but tomorrow I have a presentation with the Hawkeyes. If I win the Hawkeyes event planning contract then I can pay for Jerrin’s care on my own.”
The Hawkeyes event planning contract?
I heard Penelope, Autumn and Tessa discussing the position last week at Lake’s birthday party. It didn’t interest me until now.
