by Grace Risata
Sheri and I chatted as we walked down the main staircase that would take us to the entrance hall of Kharmma Cosmetics. Let me explain the layout so you can picture it in your head. You walk into a giant two story building with full glass windows along the whole front. If you go right, you’ll head into the factory where all the cosmetics are made and most of the workers are employed. If you go left, you’ll walk up an open staircase that leads to the second floor. The order entry department, accounting offices, and executive offices are all on that floor. Was there something I forgot? Yes. Unfortunately there was. If you walk straight into the building without turning right or left, you are greeted by a modern silver reception desk. The person behind the desk was my nemesis, Libby.
“Have a nice evening, Sheri. I do hope you get home safe,” Libby said while smiling sweetly. She looked in my direction and narrowed her eyes, saying nothing to me as I walked out with Sheri.
Libby hated me with a passion. She started working here two years ago and we might have gotten off on the wrong foot with each other. There was a most unfortunate incident at a grocery store in town on the very day before she started at Kharmma. You see, I was going to pick up bread and milk and completely minding my own business as I pulled into a parking spot. I was quite pleased with myself because it was the last close parking spot and I had somehow managed to grab it. However, I was not the only person who had been after that spot. I got out of my car and was met with the sight of a very livid woman in a red convertible. Her face was as red as her car and she began shouting at me that I had taken “her” spot and I had thirty seconds to move, OR ELSE. This annoyed me because the spot was in a public parking lot, it didn’t have her name on it, and I didn’t like her trying to threaten me. So I took the opportunity to stand up for myself. I flipped her off and told her to find a different spot. I got immeasurable pleasure from the look on her face as I marched myself into the grocery store.
As luck would have it, and let me tell you that my luck is absolutely dreadful, it was not to be my last encounter with the mean convertible girl. I walked in to work the very next day and was recapping the parking lot incident with another co-worker, Janet, when a sight at the front desk stopped me cold. It was mean convertible girl. Sitting at the front desk. Evidently she was the new receptionist who greeted everyone who walked in the building. This meant that I would have to walk past her multiple times every single day. Amazing. We’ve despised each other ever since. I have no idea why she hates me so much. She has everything going for her. She’s absolutely beautiful with a perfect tan, tiny upturned nose, long blonde hair that falls down her back in tousled magnificence, a petite figure, and a giant chest. She parades around in all the latest fashions and has the men eating out of the palm of her hand. That’s why she was at the front desk. Eye candy. That’s why I was not. I was really nothing special in the looks department. I mean nothing was horrible, it’s just that nothing stood out. I was the master of AVERAGE. Regular height, average weight, mediocre light blue eyes, run-of-the-mill mousy brown hair that fell just slightly past my shoulders. Nothing remarkable. That was me. I blended in to the background.
I waved goodbye to Sheri and began my long walk to the parking lot to get my car. It had only begun snowing two hours ago, but there was already a solid three inches of accumulation on the sidewalk. This was going to be a mess. It was coming down hard and fast and I bet driving home was going to be no easy task. I only lived about a ten minute drive away, but this was practically a white-out. The weather people had said that visibility was going to be near zero, but I hadn’t paid much attention because I figured I would be home long before the snowpocalypse started.
I trudged through the snow, cursing my heels under my breath. At least I could think of something positive to look forward to. I might catch a glimpse of “Brick Wall” when I walked past the newest construction site to pop up on the already crowded street. There was an office complex going up next to Kharmma and I passed it every day on the way to my car. I noticed HIM on Monday. He hadn’t been there before. I’m sure I would have seen him. He was impossible to miss. With a body built like a linebacker and a stony expression on his finely chiseled face, I had nicknamed him “Brick Wall.” He stood tall, towering over the rest of the crew, and looked like he could literally stop traffic. He had mournful brown eyes and shaggy dark hair falling into his face. I wanted him desperately. I would never have the guts to actually talk to anyone as sinfully sexy as that. So he became my newest fantasy. Forget book boyfriends or TV crushes, I had a man that existed in real life to daydream about.
In case you’re wondering how I got close enough to know that his eyes were sad and angst-ridden, I had the opportunity to fully check him out two days ago. I was walking to work and he was getting a tool out of a work truck. I was blatantly ogling him when he looked up and our eyes met. My heart stopped. The universe paused for a brief second while our souls became intertwined and recognized each other. Ok, not really. That’s what happened in my fantasy world. In reality, he looked away and went about his job while I tried to memorize every detail of his face so I could replay it in my mind as I fell asleep that night. Lame? Absolutely. Guilty as charged.
I wouldn’t have time today to linger and hope for a sighting of my dreamboat. My feet were getting soaked in this snow and I had to hurry it along. As I neared the construction site, I realized I would be passing “Sleazy Dirtball” instead of “Brick Wall.” I was in no mood for this. Every day for the past week, I had my ears assaulted with lame come-ons from a slimy construction worker pig, hence the nickname “Sleazy Dirtball.” He was very intimidating. Instead of working, he liked to stand around and harass anyone who came by. Evidently he had taken a liking to me and wolf-whistled every time he saw me. I tried to hang my head down and hurry past him, but he still yelled embarrassing taunts my way. Today was no exception.
“Hey, baby….why don’t you come here and show me what’s under that skirt?”
I ignored him, as usual, but this time he didn’t stop.
“What’s your problem, sugar tits? You think you’re too good for me? I bet you suck a lot of cock with those pretty little lips of yours.”
I snapped. I don’t know why, but I did. Maybe it was my frozen feet, or the impending snowpocalypse, or the fact that life kept throwing curveballs at me that never failed to hit me right in the face and I finally had ENOUGH.
I flipped him off and said, “Get a life.”
I had about four seconds of satisfaction, before I felt the repercussions of my actions. I mean I literally felt them. Sleazy Dirtball caught up to me, grabbed me by the upper arm, and snapped, “What did you just say to me, you stupid bitch?”
This was not looking good at all. You’d have thought I would have learned my lesson that flipping people off did NOT work to my advantage. First with Libby in the parking lot, and now with this guy about to rip my arm off. One of my favorite sayings was “Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.” Do I learn from my mistakes? Of course not. I repeat them over and over. Before I could start apologizing and beg for mercy, fate stepped in to give me some much needed assistance. To my shock, it was Brick Wall who came to my rescue.
“Take your hands off her, Jimmy. She was only sticking up for herself. Let it go,” Brick Wall demanded.
“This is none of your business, Dane. Walk away,” Jimmy replied. At least I would die knowing the name of my fantasy man/knight in shining armor. Dane. It even sounded manly. Although if it were Albert or Dexter, I still would have liked him.
“I’m making it my business. It’s the end of the day, let’s just pack up our shit and get out of here. I don’t want any trouble. Let her go,” Dane urged.
“If you don’t want any trouble, then walk away. I’m not telling you again. This is between me and the bitch.”
I tried to pull my arm away, but sleaze ball Jimmy had it locked in a death grip. I have no idea how I get myself into these situations. I’m a magne
t for trouble.
“I’m not telling YOU again, take your fucking hand off her or I’ll break it,” Dane demanded, getting right up in the other man’s face. This was ten times better than any of my fantasies. A hot stranger being all protective of me. I was liking this. A lot.
“Are you stupid? Did you forget that my brother OWNS this company that you’re working for? Did you forget that you’re a homeless reject who’s going to be sleeping on the street if you lose this job?” Jimmy taunted the bigger man, puffing out his chest like he was somebody important.
“I’m fully aware of the situation. I’m going to count to three and you’re going to let her go. Or you can go the hospital after I start breaking bones. It’s your choice. One….”
Dane didn’t even get to “two” before Jimmy let me go. He pushed me and I staggered before catching my balance.
Jimmy smiled, clearly pleased with his position of power. “Fine, Dane. Have it your way. You’re fired. Good luck getting a ride home, dumbass. Oh wait, you don’t have a home to get back to. Have a nice life!”
“You don’t own this company, Jimmy. I’m not going anywhere until I talk to your brother,” Dane said, showing no sign of fear about possibly losing his job. Another man approached our little group and gave his opinion on the matter.
“I saw the whole thing but I’m afraid I’m going to have to fire you anyway, Dane. Jimmy is a giant putz, but he’s my brother. I can’t fire him and I can’t have fights breaking out among my crew. It’s just business. No hard feelings, ok? Here’s your fifty bucks for today’s work.”
The guy reached into his wallet, handed Dane a fifty dollar bill, and walked away. I stood there dumbstruck. I couldn’t believe Dane just got fired for helping me. He was innocent! I also didn’t understand why Jimmy said Dane was homeless and had no way to get a ride. None of this was making sense. The boss came back, handed Dane a tool bag, and said, “Sorry. You understand how it is, right?”
Dane took the bag and mumbled, “Yeah, I understand how it is.”
I was still standing there rubbing my arm, when Dane turned to me and asked, “Are you alright? He didn’t hurt you too bad, did he?”
This dude just got fired and he was worried about ME? Wow.
“I’ll live. I have a heavy coat, so he didn’t hurt me that bad.” I paused to brush snow off my face. The white stuff was still coming down pretty fast, and I needed to get home before it piled up on the streets any worse than it already was.
“Look, I really appreciate you coming to my defense,” I said, “Is there somewhere I can give you a ride to?” I would never give a ride to a stranger, but in this case, it was the least I could do. As it would turn out, I ended up giving him a lot more than a ride.
“Yes, that would really help me out,” he replied.
“Follow me. My car is parked this way,” I explained while motioning him forward.
“My name is Dane. And you are….?”
Unable to form a coherent sentence right now. “My name is Izzy.”
“Nice to meet you, Izzy. You’re kind of shaking. Are you sure you’re okay?”
He was right. I was shaking all over. I had just been grabbed by a dickface and then rescued by my fantasy man. I think my body’s reaction was totally justified in this case.
“I’ll be fine. I guess it shook me up more than I realized. Can I ask you something? What did he mean about you being homeless? And not having a ride back? Back to where, exactly?” These were good questions that needed answers. If he was from out of town, I didn’t want to be driving him anywhere far on these icy roads.
He sighed. “Here’s the thing, Izzy. I’m homeless. The fifty bucks he just gave me is almost all the money I have. This tool bag in my hand contains everything I own. I have nowhere else to go. I know this is asking a lot, but do you think there’s any way that I could just spend the night at your house?”
WHAT? Are you kidding me? That was the absolute LAST thing I expected to come out of his mouth. Is this some kind of joke?
I stood staring at him with my mouth hanging open and a stunned expression on my face.
“I mean it would just be for one night,” he continued. “The snow is coming down pretty hard and it’s not like I can sleep on a park bench. The blizzard is supposed to last all night.”
“But aren’t there any churches or any place that would take you in? Where have you been staying?” I asked him. It was one thing to give a ride to a strange guy, but offering him a room in my house was another matter entirely. That’s how people got murdered. Homeless drifters relied on the kindness of good Samaritans and then they slit their throats while they were sleeping. I know how it worked. Yeah, I watched too many slasher flicks on TV.
“I’ve been staying at a seedy hotel in Bridgeport. They rent rooms for thirty bucks a night because it’s in a shitty neighborhood. That’s how I got hooked up with this crew of assholes. It’s the only job around that pays cash at the end of the day. They truck us back and forth to the job site,” Dane explained. He paused and looked up at the snow falling swiftly from the sky. “Look, I don’t know why I’m even bothering to plead my case with you. There’s no way you’re going to let me stay with you. I shouldn’t even be wasting my time.”
“Well, I’m not totally heartless. There must be somewhere you can go?” I couldn’t just leave him there to die. I mean, I could, but it would be really rude.
“How big is this town? The sign on the way in said ‘Oak Valley: Home of Eight Thousand Happy Villagers.’ I’m thinking a town that small doesn’t have a homeless shelter?”
I never did understand that sign. Why were we called “villagers?” Like we were going to get our pitch forks and burn vampires at the stake. Don’t make the villagers mad! We’ll round up a posse and exact revenge!
“No. We don’t have a homeless shelter. Honestly, all the churches are probably closed too.” Every time we get bad weather, the TV constantly has the running display on the bottom that tells about all the closings. It’s primarily church meetings and local sporting events.
We arrived at my car and it was really time to make up my mind here.
“So…I’m not sure what happens next,” I admitted.
“You have two options. You can trust that I’m not a serial killer and find it in your heart to let me stay in a safe place for one night. Or you can leave me here to freeze to death. Your choice.”
Ugh. This was hard. On one hand, I really wanted to do the right thing. He came to my rescue so I shouldn’t let him die. I’m always praying for a man and here’s one handed to me on a silver platter and I’m considering letting him turn into a popsicle. I really did not need the bad karma points that I would earn from that. Also, if I take him in, I could score some major brownie points with God and, let’s be honest, I can use all the help I can get. On the other hand, I could take this dude home with me and he could be a totally deranged psycho murdering rapist and kill me, in which case I’ll be seeing God soon anyway. Either way you slice it, it’s a win-win with the big guy upstairs. And I’d get to see my parents again. That would be phenomenal.
“You know what?” Dane said, pulling me out of my mental debate of what choice to make, “just never mind. I can see that it’s too much to ask for you to be a decent human being. I’m sorry my being homeless is an inconvenience for you, your highness. Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out.”
He began to walk away and I said, “Just get in the car.” I don’t know what pushed me over the edge on the decision process. I think it was the one percent chance of being reunited with my mom and dad. That would do it every time. All sense of self-preservation just got thrown out the window.
I unlocked my Chevy Malibu and got a snow brush out of the passenger seat. I started to clear the snow off my window, when a hand reached out from behind me and grabbed the brush.
“Get in the car and turn on the defrost and heater. I’ll brush off the snow.”
<
br /> “I can do it,” I argued.
“You’re in heels and a skirt. Just start the car.”
Dane cleared off the windows and then climbed into the passenger seat after being careful to brush the snow off his coat and stomp his boots.
“Look, I’m not trying to be a bad person,” I explained. “Put yourself in my position. If you were a lady, would you let some strange guy into your car?”
“No. But if that strange guy just saved my ass about three minutes ago, I might reconsider my position.”
He had a point. Albeit a small one, it was still a good argument.
I pulled out of the parking lot and turned onto the main road. This would not be a fun drive home. I couldn’t see more than two car lengths ahead of me, my tires were spinning in the snow, and I was sitting next to a potential homicidal maniac. Ok, it was a polite homicidal maniac who was nice enough to brush the snow off my car, but still.
“Are you going to be okay driving in this?” he asked.
“I’m absolutely fine, but thanks for your concern,” I replied.
“You don’t look absolutely fine. You have a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel and you’re leaning so close to the windshield that I think you’re going to go through it. Also, you haven’t blinked your eyes in the past minute. Call me crazy, but I don’t think that’s normal.”
“No. It’s not normal. I’m not normal. I don’t like driving at night in bad road conditions. I had a car accident two years ago and driving makes me nervous,” I explained.
“What happened? Who did you hit?”
“Who did I hit? What makes you think it was MY fault?” I exclaimed, while turning to glare at him for his assumption that it was me who was the cause of the accident.
We hit a patch of ice and skidded. Dane grabbed the wheel and steered us back in the correct lane before we ended up in a ditch.
