Where Would I Be Without You - By CJ Hawk Page 0,99
way to the nearest motel six and try to get a waitress job at a local café. Because at this particular moment, I knew exactly what Sabrina was laughing at while sitting in the Caribbean lounge about - me.
The first minute of the drive down, the now very windy road, was quiet between Mr. Mike Smith and me. I should be thankful to my knight in shining armor. He certainly knew how to act put out. With a slow intake of breath, I composed myself and turned to a man with extremely handsome features once he seemed more relaxed. “Sorry.” I whispered softly from my lips, as I let out a light puff of air.
“No sorry needed. I just get the impression you have no idea how far it is to town when your limo driver dropped you off.”
Nice, he saw the whole show. I tapped my fingers against my legs. Now I had no freaking clue where I was or how far. How the hell, do I say that without coming out looking like Queen Stupid.
A few more minutes passed, and we were still deep in mountain country on a single-lane dirt road. Shit we were far from town. I was going to need a car, and I don’t think a thousand dollars was going to get me much. Shit. Shit. Shit.
“I get the impression something’s amiss?” His voice had a timber smooth sound to it, a serious sound to it.
My voice, on the other hand, sounded squeaky and high-pitched. “No. What makes you say that?” I kept my eyes adverted from him as I knew I was a lousy liar.
He slowed the Ranger for a sharp curve and then started straight again. This time we were off the main mountain we lived on and next to the riverbed. I saw a few other houses along the way that looked far from the road.
“Hmm.” His voice sounded speculative of me, rightly so. I was wondering myself what everyone would think about me, and my new humble abode. Looking for a job in a small mountain town can be hard if no one knows you.
The river looked beautiful. I found myself getting lost in the scenery. The soft mediation music coming from the Range Rovers speakers reminded me of my last massage I got last weekend. I did not think I would be getting too many more of those anytime soon.
“Hmm.” This time it was louder, along with the taping of his fingers against the steering wheel; I got the impression, he was not going to let this go.
“How much of the limo driver dropping me off did you see?” My voice sounded weak and wimpy.
He didn’t speak up right away, and then he slowed the Rover to a stop along side of the river and turned and looked at me. “None. Why? What was there to see?”
I looked at him not sure, if he was lying or telling the truth. “Nothing. Nothing at all. However, you said you saw the limo driver drop me off.”
“I didn’t say that. What I saw was a limo coming up the road as I was driving into town. When I got back, the porch of ol’ man Kunz’s place was loaded with more expensive luggage than I’ve seen in a while and no one in sight. My journalistic aptitude assumed that was you in the limo, and the luggage belong to you. My next question is why in the heck are you there?”
I swallowed hard. Why was I there? Could I spill the truth? Yeah right. Who in the heck would believe me? I did what I did best when backed into a corner and reflected the subject back to the man. Which every man loved, didn’t he? “So? You’re a journalist? For what, like Time or National Geographic or some big news gig?” I sounded too enthusiastic for myself.
The Rover started up and raced down the road at a much faster clip than before. The silence dreaded on. I had not answered his question, and he had not answered mine.
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Sample Chapters of Settled For The Special
Chapter One
The pounding rain had created slick muddy roads that were not boding well for decent driving in my small commuter car. The ten-inch tires and great gas mileage worked well in my daily commutes back home but for this barren land on the drive into Hope Spring Falls, WY, it was singing a different tune. My silver four-door commuter car