by Nancy Warren
She was so startled by Nick’s words that she stopped walking and he turned her to face him. She got a momentary impression that he was as startled by his words as she was. Was that more of his precious stream of consciousness?
A street light lit him from above so he seemed momentarily haloed, though nothing else about him was remotely angelic. He dragged a hand through his hair. “I know this sounds crazy, but I want to see you again.”
“Well, you can’t.” And she ignored the tug, the insane, barely acknowledged tug from somewhere inside her urging her to go forward, to wrap her arms around him, to say, the hell with it. She wasn’t married yet.
He must have picked up something for he stepped even closer. He was no longer haloed, now he was backlit so his face was in shadow. She thought he might try and kiss her. Wondered what she’d do if he did. She felt her lips begin to part, felt the pull toward him in some elemental way.
She thought she heard him curse, softly, under his breath, but how was that possible? The man had been hitting on her all night. Then the crazy moment passed. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a business card.
Handed it to her. “I don’t like the man you’re marrying. I’m telling you right now that if you were mine I would never walk away from you in the middle of dinner.”
“What if it was an emergency?”
“Then I’d take you with me.”
She stared at the card even though she couldn’t see it clearly in the dark. “I can’t take this.”
“You can reach me day or night on my cell phone. If you ever need anything. Please. Just take it.”
She stared at the business card, then risked a quick glance at him. “Thank you.”
Then he smiled down at her, a twisted smile. “I hope it works out for you.” He leaned in suddenly and kissed her cheek, a soft brush of his lips.
And he walked right on past her and out of her life leaving her with the scent of him in her nose and the memory of his kiss burning her cheek.
