AllFreeNovel
Share Us
1
MARY PAIGE GENTRY STEPPED into a frigid puddle of water as she exited the cab with not one high-heeled shoe but both.
“You’ve got to be joking,” she muttered, turning back to the driver while trying to avoid stepping in the larger puddle next to the one she’d just plopped into. The cab driver lifted his bushy eyebrows and tried to look innocent. Mary Paige hooked an eyebrow at him. “I suppose you didn’t see that puddle?”
He shrugged.
“Right.” Mary Paige blew out a breath that stirred her bangs. “Just wait for me. Please.”
She didn’t wait for his response because after the day she’d had, something had to go in her favor. Having the cab wait for her would be a small fortune, but she was already way late for her uncle’s infamous Christmas kickoff bash thanks to her boss Ivan the Terrible.
She leapt to the curb, avoiding the other puddles, but it was too late for her shoes. The cold water had done work. If she hadn’t been so vain and had worn her cute fleur-de-lis rubber boots, her tootsies would be warm, but the strappy, high-heeled Mary Janes had called her name that cold morning which meant she’d have frosty toes for the remainder of the evening.
Flashing neon signs blinked behind the iron bars of the Fat City convenience store, bright cousins to the various cigarette ads and Louisiana Lotto signs. To her left music bled into the street from a nearby bar. The door to the store swooshed open so Mary Paige stepped aside to avoid the woman carrying a fifth of something potent. The woman’s elbow hit Mary Paige, but she offered nothing more than a rant about skinny blonde bitches blocking the door.
“Really?” Mary Paige called after the woman who shot her a very rude finger. Of course, it was a decent backhanded compliment considering that Mary Paige had been cutting back on carbs and doubling up on her exercise classes. She was almost back into the size eight dress she’d bought for a holiday party she’d never gone to. Maybe this year she’d get a date to some fancy shindig and have the chance to pull on the velvet sheath.
As she reached for the cold metal of the closing door, she heard a low moan. Her hand paused mid-air. Pulling her jacket closer to her chin and nuzzling into the cashmere scarf her ex-boyfriend had given her last Christmas with money he’d borrowed from her, she peered into the darkness beyond the lights blinking at the eaves. Looked to be a heap of wet boxes. But then she spied movement.
Moving toward the noise in spite of being in a hurry, her feet squishing in her shoes, her teeth chattering, she marveled that actual sleet hit her shoulders. How could she be standing in New Orleans? They rarely got below forty degrees in the winter, seeing nothing frozen other than the daiquiris sold in drive-thrus, but a rare artic front had blasted through right after Thanksgiving.
Among the boxes, newspapers stirred, and she glimpsed an elderly man wrapped in a thin blanket, sitting on the sodden boxes.
“Sir?” Mary Paige called. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”
The man stopped groaning, looked up, and shot her the same finger the woman had given her seconds earlier.
“Okay then,” she said, spinning on her freezing toes and turning back toward the door, ignoring the tug at her heart. Why didn’t he go to a shelter anyway? Too cold for someone to be sitting around with nothing more than a thin blanket. She glanced back at the corner. The cab was still waiting, Good. A man who listened. Early Christmas miracle.
She slid into the warmth of the store, blew on her freezing hands, and scanned the cramped aisle. Nope, none of it would do. Bottled water, sanitary products, and condoms. All the necessities of life, but nothing that would help her tonight.
The second aisle proved as fruitless. Nothing but potato chips, cookies, and packages of those powdered donuts that were her weakness. Mary Paige’s stomach growled, but she fought it off. Plenty of good homemade food awaited her. She rounded the endcap and scanned the offerings, methodically sweeping her gaze, mentally discarding everything until …BINGO!
Hanging innocently on the far end cap was the most repugnant pair of Christmas socks she’d ever seen. Bright green with sparkly silver-tinsel trees around the ankle, they were adorned with cherry-red pom poms and garish silver lace that tied the small jingly bells and matching trees together. They were absolutely perfect for the white-elephant gift required for Uncle Fred’s crazy pre-Christmas party. She snatched them up as if they were the Holy Grail. Finally, something had gone right.
She hurried toward the register, hating that she’d already taken so much time in this stop, hating that the homeless curmudgeon outside the door still weighed on her mind. Yeah, he was a miserable old goat, but it was the beginning of the holiday season and much colder than normal outside.
Maybe she could get him a cup of coffee to warm him?
A coffee bar sat to her right, featuring a self-service, instant cappuccino machine. Not the best, but certainly good enough. Mary Paige glanced at the register. Only one person in line. Surely five more minutes wouldn’t hurt. She spun toward the bar, snatched a cup, centered it beneath the spout, and pushed the button. It filled quickly. She plopped a lid on and grabbed two sugar packs.
Dang it. Two more people had joined the queue behind the woman paying.
Great.
She got in line, stomping her feet to restore some circulation back into her toes. Why was she even bothering with the old bum outside? He’d probably hurl the cup at her and snarl a curse. Did she want her jacket to be damp from coffee? That would be a fitting end to the day she’d had. A run in the tights she’d worn to keep her warm, another bout with IBS in the ladies’ stall, a glop of mayonnaise on her shirt, and a tongue-lashing from Ivan the Terrible when the towering pile of receipts on her desk didn’t add up for their biggest client. She really longed to go home and curl up in her ratty chenille robe with a glass of wine. Instead, her fierce love for Uncle Fred had sent her out to Kenner in a cab she could hardly afford, wearing shoes that felt frozen stiff.
Mary Paige finally reached the register, where the cashier snatched the socks and dropped them into a plastic bag. “Ten thirty-seven.”
She rooted in her big purse for her wallet. It wasn’t there. Oh God, had she left it at her desk? She’d been doing some online shopping, trying to catch the Black Friday deals that now extended a week or so. Ugh, yes, she’d set it beside her and had no doubt buried it with files. No worries, she always carried cash in a side pocket next to her ATM card. Her fingers crisscrossed in the pocket in a desperate search. No cash.
Crap.
A second swipe netted her the ATM card. She looked up. The cashier glared at her.
“Uh, do y’all have an ATM machine? I seem to have left my wallet at work?”
The cashier pointed to a machine near the door as a man behind her growled, “Jesus, lady, get your cash before you get in line.”
