Sparks Fly
Page 5
Seth couldn’t contain his grin. It widened and Danielle shifted anxiously in her seat.
“How about a first-hand evaluation? I’ll pick you up and take you out for dinner and fun. I’m happy to provide you with an end of experience evaluation and you can then quantify your own perception.”
“Perception, Dr. Newman, is reality.”
“Good,” he smiled. “Because we are going to really have fun.”
Danielle thought he was adorable in all the right ways. He was tall, funny, handsome and standing in front of her asking her to have – fun. It was perfect. It was too perfect, which in her mind meant there was something really wrong with Seth Newman.
“I don’t know…” Danielle began.
“Sure you do,” Seth replied as he stood and walked around her desk as she rose from her chair.
Danielle was used to being in charge. She always took the responsibility, always took the blame, always made the plans and she always executed them. This time Seth was making sure she knew it was okay to relinquish the reins –even if it was just for one night.
Seth clutched Danielle’s hands in his. “Look, I’m not dangerous, weird, unstable, emotionally unavailable or gender confused. I’m not asking for you to perform brain surgery, disarm a nuclear device or move a mountain,” Seth said softly as he looked up to find her blue eyes twinkling in the soft light of her office. “I’m asking for one night.”
Danielle gripped his hands tightly and smiled. “Well, when you put it like that…”
Seth brought both of her hands to his face and gave them a kiss. “Saturday night. I’ll pick you up at your place.”
Seth turned and walked away and turned only at the door to take one last look at Danielle’s beautiful and stunned face. “Six o’clock.”
“Wait,” Danielle shouted. “I didn’t say yes.”
“Yes, you did,” Seth replied.
“You don’t know where I live,” Danielle laughed.
“Yes, I do.”
June 26th
As Kitty Clark drove her older model Volvo, the Silver Bullet – a name given to the car by Seth after a rough Coors Light night years ago – down the rural road, she thought about Banks Bartel.
After taking the stitches from his arm and sharing the most wonderfully awkward silence, she’d looked him up on Google only to discover he was a famous sculptor who’d lost his fiancée three years ago in the storm. Although she didn’t want to ask around about him for fear of being found out, she did hear one of the older nurses say as he left the hospital ER that he’d been with her when the storm hit. They were both injured, but he and his sister had survived. Banks’ fiancée, Jill, died in his arms.
Kitty sighed as she turned up the music in her car a little louder. It was sad how her life had ended. There was a lot of sadness out there in the world and Kitty had seen her fair share of dark times. It was easy for her to identify with the lost feeling she imagined he had.
As she turned the corner of the winding two-lane road, she looked to the trees that seemed to frame the turnpike and encompass her car. The shadows and sunlight flashed intermittently as she drove. When she saw the squirrel, it was too late for Kitty to stop as she focused back on the road and watched him scamper for his life.
Kitty hit the brakes. Then she hit the ditch as the car came to an abrupt halt. “Damnit!”
She climbed from the car to survey the damage. “Shit,” she hissed when she saw the blown tire on the back right side. “Are you kidding me?”
Kitty watched the squirrel run up a nearby tree and she cursed him. “Thanks, dumbass. Keep out of the road next time. Please.”
She searched the front seat for her phone knowing she’d have to call Seth to come and rescue her. When she told him she blew a tire because of a squirrel she’d get an earful. But after trying to connect twice she realized there was no service. She had two options: she could wait for someone to drive by, or she could lock the Silver Bullet and starting hoofing it down the road until she found someone or something that could help her.
Kitty rolled up the windows of the car and chuckled to herself as she spoke to the squirrel that’d caused all the mayhem. “Maybe I should leave the keys in it and someone will steal it. What do you think?”
She began walking down the road and soon realized she’d had the air conditioning roaring in the Bullet for a reason. It was the end of June and it was damn hot. She took her sweater off and tied it around the waist of her short shorts and was thankful she’d decided to wear a tank top underneath for the day. The flip-flops she sported weren’t her running shoes, but they’d carry her to her next destination for sure.
She looked to her phone again, hoping that if she walked far enough she would somehow by the grace of God pick up a signal.
“God, if you’re up there I could use a little help,” she said to the sky as she held her iPhone high in the air thinking that if she got it a little closer to heaven He might send her an AT&T signal.
Kitty heard the sound of a car approaching and began waving her arms in the air before the vehicle ever came into sight. “Help! Stop!” she shouted as she frantically jumped up and down in the road.
As the old pickup truck pulled to a stop, the window rolled down and Kitty Clark couldn’t believe what she saw.
“Are you lost?” Banks Bartel smiled at her.
“I avoided murdering a squirrel down the road, but I managed to kill one of my tires,” Kitty said as she pushed the hair from her forehead, glistening in perspiration.
“I guess you better hop in. We’ll go check it out,” Banks said as he wiped some black soot off his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt. Kitty thought he was sexy. Mostly because he didn’t think he was sexy at all.
He leaned over the old bench seat of his pickup and opened the door for her and Kitty caught him looking at her legs as she climbed up and into the tall truck.
“What are you doing out here?” Kitty asked as she looked down the road.
Banks turned and waited for her to look at him. “I think I should be asking you that question.”
“It’s my day off. I decided just to get out of town for a couple of hours and take a drive and listen to music. I do that sometimes. It helps me clear my head. It’s my little escape. You know?”
Banks nodded. He was secretly happy she’d been stranded on his rural road. After she removed his stitches he thought about her nonstop and he’d nearly finished the sculpture in just those few days. All of these things had put him in an unusually good mood. He was happy – something he’d forgotten how to be.
“How far down the road are you?” Banks asked with a chuckle.
“Just around the corner actually. I’ve probably only been walking half a mile.”
“I’m sorry I’m so sweaty,” Banks confessed as he wiped his brown again by dipping his head into his shoulder. “I’ve been working nonstop to get this piece done before the Fourth.”
Kitty loved the fact that Banks was hot and sweaty. His taut arms glistened with perspiration and the wet stain around the collar of his shirt and down his chest turned her on. In part it was because he was sweaty and still smelled great, and the other reason was in the light of day and out of the hospital setting, Banks Bartel didn’t look like an artist. He looked like a badass. Each time he shifted gears in the old truck’s floorboard his arms flinched just enough to make Kitty’s knees weak.
As Banks rounded the corner quickly, he could see Kitty’s Volvo sitting in the ditch. “Oooo,” he hissed as he saw the damage. “We might need to have it towed out of the ditch before we can even think about changing the tire.”
“I don’t want to be any trouble, Mr.….ah, Bartel.” Kitty hesitated.
“Please—call me Banks, Kitty.”
“You remembered my name,” she smiled.
“And you remembered mine,” he nodded as he put the truck into park and hopped out like an experienced cowboy.
Kitty quickly followed and stood over the car shaki
ng her head. “Damn squirrel.”
“You gave him a second chance,” he smiled at Kitty. “Sometimes all you need is a second chance.”
“I hope he puts it to good use,” Kitty said with a smirk.
“Let’s go back to my studio. There’s a telephone there. You’re not going to get any service out here in the middle of nowhere. We’ll call the towing service in town and they can pull you out and change your tire.”
“It seems like a lot of trouble,” Kitty squinted and held her hand to her face to shield the sun coming through the trees.
Banks took the phone from his back pocket and snapped a couple of pictures of the car in the ditch. “I don’t think we have a choice,” he said as he opened the passenger side door for her to get in.
Kitty nodded and brushed against his arm as she climbed back into the truck. She turned to face him as their hands slid past one another on the window frame and she watched him swallow hard. She knew he’d felt it too.
He dropped his head and looked to the pavement and cocked his hip before shutting her door.
Kitty watched Banks walk around the front of the truck and run his hands through his hair. She wanted to say something. Kitty felt the moments they’d shared together warranted something bigger than a nod. She knew he felt it; whether he’d acknowledge it was an entirely different story.
They roared down the road in silence. It was something they were good at. Kitty liked that neither of them felt the need to fill the quiet space with nervous chatter.
“Wow,” Kitty remarked as Banks pulled the truck into a gravel lane and came to a stop in front of a two-story barn. “It’s beautiful.”
Banks laughed at her comment. “It’s a barn.”
“It’s so old,” Kitty continued as she stepped out of the truck and onto the pea gravel lane that made a path to the large sliding doors.
“About eighty years, I think,” Banks replied. “Somehow it and everything inside was spared from the storm.”
“Listen,” Kitty said as she waited for him to unlock the door. “I know about your fiancée and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for your loss.”
Banks looked up from the lock and batted his eyes a couple of times but gave no indication of emotion. “I appreciate that.”
As Banks slid the doors of the studio open, Kitty was amazed at what sat inside. “Oh my. Is this the sculpture for the town square?” Kitty asked as she walked closer without asking permission.
Banks said nothing, but stood and looked at what was to be unveiled in less than a week. When Kitty turned to look to him, he nodded and gazed upon the structure with a quiet and humble pride.
“Banks,” Kitty sighed. “It’s incredible. I think everyone will love it.”
When he didn’t reply, but only looked back to her and stared, Kitty felt compelled to say more. “It has such meaning. Well, at least to me. I know everyone will love it.”
Kitty stood in awe and pulled the necklace her mother had left for her from her shirt and began to rub it nervously with her thumb and index finger. The forty-foot, six thousand pound stainless steel sculpture was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
“How did you…” Kitty stopped, still unsure of what words she should use. “How do you…”
“How do I what?” Banks asked as he moved in behind her.
“Do this…incredible feat?”
“You heal bodies,” Banks said. “I do this.”
“This will heal souls, Banks,” Kitty said with a tear in her eye. “But how do you go from your mind to this?” she asked.
“When something really has meaning to me, I draw it first. I sketch it. It’s how I know I’ll love it in the end. It’s how I give the idea life.”
Kitty wasn’t an emotional girl. She’d seen too much, been through too much in her short lifetime to tear up over things that brought many people to their knees. But she knew Banks’ story and the stories of so many in town and this was truly an incredible act of kindness. It hit home with her personally.
“When the sun sets…” he began as he made a sweeping motion with his arm and began explaining.
“No–” Kitty stopped him. “I understand.”
Kitty turned away from Banks and wiped the tears from her eyes. He was a beautiful man on the outside. And now Kitty knew that Banks Bartel was a beautiful man on the inside.
“The phone’s on the wall over there,” Banks explained as he nodded to the corner. “I’m pretty sure the number for the garage I use for Big Red is tacked to the wall.”
“Big Red?” Kitty asked as she walked away.
“The truck. I call him Big Red.”
“That’s funny,” Kitty admitted. “I call my Volvo Silver Bullet.”
He smiled and nodded and Kitty felt uncomfortable for the first time since they’d met.
After explaining her situation to the garage, they agreed to tow her car back into town and would have it ready for her by the afternoon.
Turning to Banks, Kitty took a deep breath. “I feel terrible. I’ve wasted your day. And you still haven’t had a chance to eat your lunch.”
“Come with me,” Banks said.
“Where are we going?”
“Ride into town with me. We’ll get some lunch and I need to stop by the town square to make sure the support for the sculpture is being installed correctly.”
“What about the car?”
“The car will meet us in town. They said this afternoon anyway. Right?”
Kitty moved in closer and wanted to take his hand in hers. She wanted to touch the man who’d created such incredible beauty out of sorrow, but she didn’t. “I’ll have lunch with you on one condition.”
“Yeah?” Banks asked. “What’s that?”
“That you’ll have dinner with me Sunday night.”
Banks Bartel stared into Kitty’s dark eyes and for the first time in a very long time felt happy. He nodded.
“Is that a yes?” Kitty asked with a smile.
“Yes.”
June 28th
There was still a hint of the new moon left from two nights ago when Seth Newman walked up the sidewalk of Danielle’s condo to collect her for the evening. He had a full night planned and he wanted to get started as soon as possible.
He knocked only once and was caught off guard when she immediately opened the door.
Danielle Trask stood in the doorway in a black full skirt and a peacock blue sparkly short-sleeved sweater. She was easily over six feet in her heels, but Seth loved the fact that no matter how tall her stilettoes were he would always be taller than her.
“Wow,” he said as his face and stirring manhood filled with blood. “You look fantastic. I mean, you are fantastic.”
“And you have promised to be fun,” she smiled.
“I’m ready,” he laughed. “The question is, are you?”
“Let’s go.”
Seth carefully helped her into the black Mercedes SUV he’d recently purchased. It was his first nice car, and it still smelled of new leather and factory love.
“Where are we off to?” Danielle asked as she raised her eyebrow in suspicion.
“Do you trust me?” Seth asked with a wide grin, donning his black Ray Bans once again.
“I suppose,” Danielle replied.
“Excellent,” Seth focused his eyes back on the road. It was the hardest thing he’d ever done – looking away from Danielle to drive. He could look at her forever. He could look at her for the rest of his life.
Seth parked on the street in town near the square and hurried to open Danielle’s door before she could get it.
“May I ask where we are going?” Danielle said as she looked into Seth’s eyes for an answer.
“We are starting the evening off with a little wine tasting. Are you game?”
“Sure.”
As they walked into The Seller, the owner, Grace Bartel gave Seth a nod and motioned to a table in the corner already set up for the couple.
Seth had called ahead and spoken to the owner asking for a special tasting. Grace was more than happy to oblige him.
The table was set with a mound of red roses, two wine glasses and a bottle of 2005 Saxenburg Select Shiraz from South Africa. It was a label that Seth had discovered while doing six months in Cape Town and he’d always kept it in his own personal cellar. He was surprised and elated that Grace had the 2005. It was the perfect way to start their evening.
“That’s our table in the back corner,” said Seth. He touched the small of her back and guided her along their path. When his hand grazed her bare skin as she turned to take her seat, Seth’s body tingled with excitement.
“It’s dark back here,” Danielle observed.
“We have candles. Besides, I’m certain you look even more beautiful by candlelight.”
“Ah,” Danielle winced.
“Don’t take that the wrong way, Danielle,” Seth continued as he poured her a glass of wine. “I’m sure I’m not the first man to ever tell you that you are beautiful – you are.”
“Well…” Danielle hesitated. “Thank you.”
“I’m not finished,” Seth continued.
“Sorry.”
“You’re in marketing and PR so let me explain it to you this way. When I’m interested in something of course the packaging is usually the first thing to catch my eye. But I like to think of myself as an intelligent man, so I always look at the label. I mean, just because something looks good doesn’t mean it’s good for you, or has the best ingredients.”
As Seth spoke, Danielle felt the emotional wall she’d built begin to fall. He was telling her what she’d waited her entire life to hear from a man.
“Because for me,” Seth continued. “It’s what’s inside the packaging that’s important. What it’s made of. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Seth said without losing eye contact.
Danielle didn’t want to ruin the perfect moment by opening her mouth. Instead she nodded and gave him a tiny smile.
He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. In the silence something in the universe shifted for Danielle and she left her hardened heart for good.