TUEDAY TALES - WORD PROMPT "BRIDGE" - MORE OF "RENOVATING THE BILLIONAIRE"

Welcome to Tuesday Tales. This week, the word prompt is "bridge." I'm coninuing my story, "Renovating the Billionaire." Here's a taste. Scroll down to return to Tuesday Tales and the fine works you'll find there. Thanks for stopping by.

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Outside the Cozy Diner, Jess stood, half-hidden by an oak tree. A fancy car stopped just before the bridge over Cattail Creek. A man got out of the front seat and opened the door for the man in the back. What’s the matter? Doesn’t he have hands? Can’t open his own door?

The tall, dark-haired man strolled to the center of the bridge, leaving his car blocking traffic. Jess chided herself. There was no traffic at seven a.m. on a Tuesday. As she watched him, the corners of her mouth turned down.

Mr. Fancy Pants. Thinks he owns the town. Thinks he’ll tear down that house. Well, he’s got another think coming. She kept her gaze on him, tall and striking looking. Just the way he walked, almost like a swagger, exuded power. She guessed he had confidence to burn.

Checking her watch, she noted she was five minutes late, but couldn’t take her eyes off the man on the bridge. Even though he was wearing sunglasses, he shaded his eyes with his hand as he looked across at the old, dilapidated house. Pompous. In love with himself.

Put-down after put-down came to mind, yet she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She had pies to deliver. Can’t be wastin’ time gawking at the fancy man here to destroy my dream. Maybe he’ll fall in the lake. She grinned at the image of the big city man, soaking wet, his perfectly-tailored suit, ruined and clinging to him. Water dripping down his face into his scruff.

The picture of Mr. Big Shot, rumpled, wet, and disconcerted started a sensation in a place she didn’t expect. Yep. The one word she didn’t want to admit when conjuring up the image of him wading out of the lake was, "sexy." Damn sexy.

She shook her head to clear her mind, then turned away. She started up her old rust bucket just as he returned to the backseat of his car. Jess set her lips in a firm line and steered her car to Maple Street for her next delivery. The sooner Mr. Big Bucks left town, the better.

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