him.
"Come on, I said I was sorry."
By that time, all eyes were on the couple, some on Paige who was thumbing angrily through a phone book; some on Chris who pitched some bills on the table and marched toward the exit. As he passed the row of phones, he sneered at her back, “Fine! Run home to Momma. See if I care."
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Nine
Paige didn't look back as she passed the ladies’ room door and marched down a hallway marked Employees Only. She opened the service entrance door far enough to slither out into the shadowy parking lot. She leaned all her weight against the knob-less door, hoping to stifle the course of the woman in the red sweatshirt while she caught her breath.
That's when a new worry struck: what if Chris didn't come? Her precious bag of money was still in the cabinet of the bumblebee yellow truck. If he drove off there would be nothing she could do. How could she be so stupid?
The clatter of a slow moving diesel engine separated from the hundreds of others, and broadcasted itself around the building. She took a few steps and peered around the corner.
The sound of the knob turning from behind made her stiffen. Where the hell was Chris? Not coming, that's where.
Paige slipped into a narrow niche between the outdoor walk-in cooler and the building and squinted into the deep shadows as the door opened. A hand used the wall for support and a dark head with indistinguishable features poked outside. It moved back and forth like one of those dog ornaments in car rear windows.
As the nose of a truck appeared at the corner, the head leaned further out, its shoulders and upper torso following. From her vantage point Paige still could not determine so much as the sex of the person in the doorway. Paige willed the person back inside, but he or she seemed intent on discovering the identity of the truck working its way around the building at a snail's pace, in a place where few trucks came.
Paige took a step forward without actually moving her upper body, preparing to run, knowing it might be the death of her, and possibly Chris too. Tremors shook her body as the big yellow truck passed, Chris’ frown clearly defined as he leaned out the open window. He waved to the person in the doorway, a wave that was a beckoning motion. He thought it was her, and was wondering why she didn't come running.
Paige leaned forward, stepping slightly out of the shadows, hoping he would notice her, but his eyes were glued to the doorway, on the person who neither waved back nor walked forward.
Tears came to Paige's eyes as she watched her ride, and her cash, lumber away. The door clicked shut as the person, evidently satisfied, went back inside.
Paige fell back against the cool brick wall, wrapping her arms around her trembling body, tears streaming down her cheeks. What now? She'd have to beg, borrow and steal her way out of Stefano's life. A few days ago, this had seemed like such a good idea, but all it had caused was trouble—for her, and for Habib.
"Hey, are you coming?” The voice interrupted her regrets and she opened her eyes. Chris leaned out the window and slapped his palms on the door, the sound barely audible over the rumble of the engine.
Paige heaved a sigh and swiped both hands across her face several times as she ran around the front of the truck, grabbed the bottom of the mirror support and heaved up onto the footrest. Chris had already unlatched the door, and she practically fell onto the seat, the aroma of that truck and his aftershave the best things she'd ever smelled. More tears rolled down her cheeks. She kept her face turned toward the window as though watching for the woman in the red sweatshirt.
"What happened? Who was that in the doorway? At first I thought it was you, but you didn't come out."
"I couldn't tell who it was."
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing."
Chris banged his palm on the center of the steering wheel. “Well I'll be hanged. You thought I was leaving you here."
She
"Come on, I said I was sorry."
By that time, all eyes were on the couple, some on Paige who was thumbing angrily through a phone book; some on Chris who pitched some bills on the table and marched toward the exit. As he passed the row of phones, he sneered at her back, “Fine! Run home to Momma. See if I care."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Nine
Paige didn't look back as she passed the ladies’ room door and marched down a hallway marked Employees Only. She opened the service entrance door far enough to slither out into the shadowy parking lot. She leaned all her weight against the knob-less door, hoping to stifle the course of the woman in the red sweatshirt while she caught her breath.
That's when a new worry struck: what if Chris didn't come? Her precious bag of money was still in the cabinet of the bumblebee yellow truck. If he drove off there would be nothing she could do. How could she be so stupid?
The clatter of a slow moving diesel engine separated from the hundreds of others, and broadcasted itself around the building. She took a few steps and peered around the corner.
The sound of the knob turning from behind made her stiffen. Where the hell was Chris? Not coming, that's where.
Paige slipped into a narrow niche between the outdoor walk-in cooler and the building and squinted into the deep shadows as the door opened. A hand used the wall for support and a dark head with indistinguishable features poked outside. It moved back and forth like one of those dog ornaments in car rear windows.
As the nose of a truck appeared at the corner, the head leaned further out, its shoulders and upper torso following. From her vantage point Paige still could not determine so much as the sex of the person in the doorway. Paige willed the person back inside, but he or she seemed intent on discovering the identity of the truck working its way around the building at a snail's pace, in a place where few trucks came.
Paige took a step forward without actually moving her upper body, preparing to run, knowing it might be the death of her, and possibly Chris too. Tremors shook her body as the big yellow truck passed, Chris’ frown clearly defined as he leaned out the open window. He waved to the person in the doorway, a wave that was a beckoning motion. He thought it was her, and was wondering why she didn't come running.
Paige leaned forward, stepping slightly out of the shadows, hoping he would notice her, but his eyes were glued to the doorway, on the person who neither waved back nor walked forward.
Tears came to Paige's eyes as she watched her ride, and her cash, lumber away. The door clicked shut as the person, evidently satisfied, went back inside.
Paige fell back against the cool brick wall, wrapping her arms around her trembling body, tears streaming down her cheeks. What now? She'd have to beg, borrow and steal her way out of Stefano's life. A few days ago, this had seemed like such a good idea, but all it had caused was trouble—for her, and for Habib.
"Hey, are you coming?” The voice interrupted her regrets and she opened her eyes. Chris leaned out the window and slapped his palms on the door, the sound barely audible over the rumble of the engine.
Paige heaved a sigh and swiped both hands across her face several times as she ran around the front of the truck, grabbed the bottom of the mirror support and heaved up onto the footrest. Chris had already unlatched the door, and she practically fell onto the seat, the aroma of that truck and his aftershave the best things she'd ever smelled. More tears rolled down her cheeks. She kept her face turned toward the window as though watching for the woman in the red sweatshirt.
"What happened? Who was that in the doorway? At first I thought it was you, but you didn't come out."
"I couldn't tell who it was."
"What's the matter?"
"Nothing."
Chris banged his palm on the center of the steering wheel. “Well I'll be hanged. You thought I was leaving you here."
She
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