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"I'm so sorry, sis. I tried to call you, but then my phone died. I cannot believe the day I've been having." I plopped down across from her in the booth.
She quickly went from anger to concern. "You look exhausted. Are you okay?"
I sat down and rubbed my temples. "I'm fine. Like I said, it's been a long day. Did you eat already?"
Sharon shook her head. "No. I was determined to wait for you."
I smiled, more for her sake than my own. I didn't want her to worry about me. "Let's order then."
We both had buffalo wings, and I had a cup of coffee with Baileys Irish Cream afterwards to make up for my horrendous day. I didn't usually drink at lunch. That day was an exception in every way. I was barely half a cup in before I brought up the guy I'd seen at the gas station. "Hey, you live around here, right?”
“Uh…Yeah, why?”
“There’s a rinkey gas station about ten miles back down 431. Have you ever gone in there?"
Sharon took a sip from her martini, refusing to be outdone by me. "I think I know what you're talking about. I try to stay away from that area. There are stories about people that come up missing in that part of the woods.”
“What do you mean, missing?” I asked as I thought about the big, burly white man who leaned over with a toothpick in his mouth and looked at me like he would eat me for a snack.
“It’s just an old folk tale, but I’m scary as shit, so I just avoid going that way,” she laughed. “Why do you ask about that gas station?"
"Oh, no reason. I wanted to call you earlier to let you know I was running late, but when my phone died I had to buy a charger and I went in there."
Sharon arched an eyebrow. "Ahhh…I was wondering why you hadn't called. Wow, you've been through some of everything today."
"You have no idea."
"So, what happened at the gas station? Did one of those toothless assholes catcall you or something?"
I laughed. "No, it was nothing like that. I ran into this guy. And, I do mean literally ran into him. He’s a white guy, in his mid-twenties, hazel eyes, a beard, I think it's called a chin strap. He was wearing a plain tee and jeans and a blue baseball cap. Looked like he’d been working in a ditch, because he was dirty. I was wondering if you knew who he was?"
"Considering you looked long enough to describe him to a police sketch artist maybe you should’ve asked his name."
I sighed.
Maybe I should have.
Except, I couldn't have. Not in front of all those guys who were staring me down. I had to get out of there. If I stayed, there was no telling what might have happened.
What if I never saw him again? I hated that prospect. I could come up with another reason to go into the shop, but did I really want to do that?
I took another sip of my drink. “Yeah, maybe I should have asked.”
I let it go at that. We finished our lunch, while catching up on each other’s week. It wasn’t long before Sharon had to leave, so she could get back to work. I left as well, deciding to ride back by the gas station in hopes of seeing Mr. Hazel Eyes.
However, when I drove back to the gas station, I didn’t really know what I was looking for. After all, this man prob
ably didn’t even like me and, if he saw me, he would most likely consider me a stalker. Who the hell wants to meet a stalker? So, after just thirty seconds of staring up at the gas station, I pulled out of the parking spot and tore away from the rough area. I needed to get my mind off him, because a strange man wasn’t worth getting all flustered over. No matter how hot he was.
Chapter Four
Channing
Seventeen. That's how many days in a row I showed up to Moss Tavern wishing, hoping and waiting. Every single one of those days I silently kicked myself for not following her out to her car and asking for her number then and there. I didn’t want the guys to see me going after a black woman. It went against everything I was brought up to believe. However, not being able to find her again seemed like a fitting punishment for my cowardice.
Then, on day seventeen, the most amazing thing happened. She walked through the door. At first, I didn't even realize she'd entered. I had given up hope of seeing her again, and my daily lunches at the tavern had simply become a ritual. She stopped in her tracks when she saw me, which made me look up. My gaze landed on her big brown eyes and she smiled before looking over at a back booth and heading to it. Just like the last time, she wore a suit, which made me think she was on her lunch break. This time, her dark curls rested on her shoulders when the last time her hair was up and in a bun. I wondered what it would feel like to run my fingers through her thick hair. I hoped I'd get the opportunity to find out.
In the booth was another regular, a blonde who had lunch at the tavern Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. I held back a laugh. I'd seen this woman time and time again as I waited for her friend. If only I'd known I could have simply asked for her friend's number, or had her pass mine on. The irony of how close I'd been this entire time wasn't lost on me. And to think, I thought I'd never see her again.
