AllFreeNovel
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The younger guys knocked shoulders trying to see who could get inside first. At least they were man enough to let the girls go in ahead of them.
I crunched across the snow and ducked behind the building, between a dumpster and the back door. People were coming and going from the busy bar. The trash bin would shield my conversation and my reactions from prying ears and eyes. And the rotting rubbish seemed fitting with the person who might be calling.
The phone tipped in my hand as I stabbed the screen. I scrambled to not drop it and tucked the cold surface against my ear. “Hello.” There was more steel in my voice than the dumpster beside me.
“Darling.”
I couldn’t count the number of times that sultry voice had weakened my legs. Now Hannah’s tone sounded like a cackling hen. I held the phone out from my ear and willed myself to not throw it in the bin. The nerve of her acting as if life between us was normal. The nerve!
“Why are you calling me?”
“Why wouldn’t I call my fiancé?”
Unbelievable. Hannah lived in a fictional world which pivoted around her.
“Ex-fiancé!”
“Can we talk? Where are you? At your parents, I bet.”
I could not have her show up here. The newshounds were sure to follow her every move.
“We’re done. Lose my number and never call me again.” In my angered state, I repeatedly poked the screen to turn it off but kept missing. Finally, I ended the call and stomped around the dumpster—and knocked into a lady stepping out the back door, carrying a bag of trash.
The bag busted between us. Beer bottles, cans, and other nasty garbage dropped to the snow.
“Great! Look what you did,” the lady yelled.
I brushed my hands down my jeans to knock off a napkin stuck to my knee and shook my boots which looked to be covered in coffee grounds. Great was right. After Hannah’s unwanted phone call and wearing trash on my clothes, tonight couldn’t get any worse.
“Sorry.” I looked up to find hazel eyes glaring at me.
The lady from the airport hangar—the one who poured her body like melted gold into her jeans—fisted her hands on her temples. “You!”
“You,” I answered back and prided myself in not matching her yell. After Hannah’s call I could’ve bellowed like an angry bear, but this run-in was my fault.
In the low glow of the security light on the side of the building, I noted she had exchanged her jeans for a short skirt, turtleneck sweater, and high-heeled boots. A waitress apron sat low on her hips. Her spiraled hair hung down her back, longer than I expected.
She shivered and hugged herself.
“Go inside. I’ll clean this up.” I picked up four bottles and pitched them in the dumpster.
She hefted the bag, with whatever remained inside, and heaved it over the rim. “No. You go inside. This is my job. Grabbing baggage from a jet, no. Cleaning up from bar customers, yes.”
“You work at Stipples?” I grabbed a wide snow shovel and used it like a dustpan to pick up the loose trash.
“Yeah. Unlike you, some people must work two jobs.”
Like everyone else, she assumed I was born rich. She had no idea how hard I had worked to be successful. “It’s freezing out here. This is my fault. If you’re not going in, let me help so it gets done faster.”
She didn’t respond, just kept picking up.
I took off my jacket and laid it over her shoulders.
She shook it off. “Don’t baby me.”
“I am not babying you. Twenty-degree temps are dangerous.” I placed the down-filled jacket back on her shoulders and got busy scooping trash before she could step out of it. This time she didn’t object. We made excellent time cleaning up.
We both reached for the last bottle and had a tug of war before she relented.
