This week our word prompt is "mud." I have another bit from my WIP, "Too Late for Goodbye". I hope you enjoy it. Scroll down to return to the excellent authors on Tuesday Tales and read their stories. Thanks for stopping by.
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The yellow cab stopped in front of a small, two-story building, sandwiched between an older ten-story apartment house and a well-kept, proud, four-story townhouse. He checked the address, paid the driver, and stepped out of the vehicle, right into a patch of mud.
Sliding on the slippery stuff, he fell on his butt in the street.
“Hey, Mister! You okay?” The cabbie turned in his seat.
“Yeah, yeah. Fine. Fine,” Marty muttered. He prayed Jenny hadn’t been
looking out her window. What a clumsy fool! Those damn new shoes! He checked the bottoms, smooth as glass.
Now there was mud caked on the sides and he
had no time to wipe it off. Great. Wonderful impression he’d make. Like some
rube from the sticks. And he’d probably wrecked his new suit, too. Stupid
dumbass move. He shook his head and approached the front stoop. He pressed the buzzer.
The door swung open. Jenny stood before him, wearing
jeans and a snug T-shirt. Her silky blonde locks tousled around her shoulders,
her phone to her ear. She gestured for him to come in.
“Yes, yes, Roberta. I know. But I need your
column by tomorrow morning, latest. The printer is here now. Yes. We’re going
to go over the layout. No. I can handle it. You just write that column!”
Clicking her phone off, she faced him. “Sorry
about that. Come in, come in.” Eyeing him,
she remarked, “What happened? Close encounter with a mud puddle?”
He laughed. “Maybe I’d better take my shoes
off.”
“We never wear shoes in the house.”
He glanced down. Her bare slender, delicate
feet had toenails painted a lovely pink. A shiver shot through him.
“Come into the kitchen. I’m making soup.”
She took his arm and led him toward the back of the small townhouse.
Something smelled damn good. Beautiful, funny,
and she could cook. The trifecta. No, better yet, the Mega Millions Lottery of
women.
“Sorry if I’m late.”
She checked her watch. “Nope. Right on time.
Do you like soup?”
“I do. But I thought maybe I could take you
out to lunch.”
“Why? We can have soup and talk about the
paper.”
Marty tried to hide his disappointment. Why?
Because he didn’t give a damn about her printing project, he just wanted to sit
and gaze at her for hours over a glass of wine.
“Okay. What’s the project.”
“Sit down. I’ll get it.”
Did he stare are her cute butt as she left
the room? Damn right he did.
I always hated the slippery soles on new shoes. They made walking on the highly polished floors at school like crossing ice. I used to rough them up with my nail file. Great scene. Looking forward to more.
ReplyDeleteOooh. I can feel the tension he is under when he is with her. And I love how casual she is with him. I can't wait to read more!
ReplyDeleteHe's got it bad, and you do a fantastic job of showing us that. I can't wait to see more of the two and him especially.
ReplyDeleteThis made me smile. I can totally relate to the falling and feeling like a fool. AND I love that he looked at her butt. :) Perfect
ReplyDelete