Laura Drake - Against The Odds

“You don’t have to talk about that if you don’t want to, Bear,” Bina said.

“Oh, yeah. It’s kinda the pit bull in the room now. Thanks a lot, asshole.”

The little pissant sat arms crossed, as if owed an explanation.

Bear chewed his lip, trying to figure how to make a steaming turd smell like room freshener. He glanced again at the clock. In four minutes. It was impossible. He almost heard his chances ticking away. “A guy gave me crap about being a soldier. I punched him. He hit his head on the way down. It was an accident, okay? A freaking, stupid, accident.”

“What were you charged with? How much time did you do?” Mark asked.

He looked to Bina, but she just nodded encouragement.

Fuck. This is never going to end. He’d have blown them off, if not for the fact that Hope was hanging on every word, looking as though she wanted to believe the best. “Involuntary manslaughter. Ten months.” He ground the words between his jaws and spit them out.

“The guy died?” Bryan’s mouth was an O of horror.

Let that be a lesson unto you, asshole. He forced his fists to relax. Again. “Hence the prison term.” If sarcasm could slice, this guy would look like a teen in The Texas Chain Saw Massacre.

Bina must have sensed his potential for eruption. “I think we’ll leave it there for today.” She stood. “Good session. I’ll see you all back here on Wednesday.”

Bear would have caught Bryan outside for a meeting of minds, but it turned out weasels could move—he scuttled away, fast. That was probably for the best. The kid was just a distraction anyway. What Bear really wanted was to talk to his angel. He waited outside the classroom, while Hope lingered inside, talking to Bina.

They walked out together. Two pairs of eyebrows went up when they saw him.

“Hope, can I talk to you for a second?” He waited, dangling at the end of his last chance.

She shot a look at Bina, then back at him.

He held out his hands, palms up, trying to look unimposing. “I just have a question to ask. I promise I won’t keep you long.”

Hope glanced around. The classroom was in the basement of the hospital. The halls were deserted.

Bina locked the door. “The cafeteria is on the ground floor to the right of the elevators, if you two would like to get a cup of coffee.”

Bina’s comment seemed to shatter Hope’s indecision. She checked her phone for the time. “I have a half hour before I need to get to work.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding. “That’s great.”

As Bina brushed by him, he could swear she winked, but since he only saw her profile, it was impossible to tell for sure.

The cafeteria was prelunch busy. He bought them coffee, and they sat at a small round table near floor-to-ceiling windows that looked out on a sloping landscaped courtyard. Hope stirred her coffee, waiting for him to say whatever he had to say.

If only he knew what that was. He wasn’t even sure why he needed to talk to her so desperately. Maybe in talking, he’d hear the answer. He took a sip of coffee he didn’t want, then set the cup down. “This is going to sound crazy, and given what you just learned about me. See, the thing is...” He focused on her eyes. They reminded him of the lapping waters of the Caribbean: soothing, yet incessantly restless at the same time. And like those waters, they calmed him. “Have you ever felt that a stranger held the answers to all of your questions?”

Her head tilt held curiosity and concern at the same time.

“I know that sounds bizarre. I swear to you, I’m not a stalker. I don’t want anything from you. I just had the oddest feeling when I met you.” The past hour’s tightrope walk had worn on his nerves. Now, when he needed words more than ever, he was spewing nonsense. He looked down at his coffee cup. He lifted and set it down in precise one-quarter turns. “Oh, never mind. I’m sorry to have—”

“I believe you.”

He looked up at her soft words.

“I don’t really understand what you’re trying to say, but I can tell you’re sincere.”

He blew out a breath. “Well, that’s something anyway.”

Her laugh tinkled over him. “You should see your face. You look like you just got a stay of execution.”

He kind of had.

She checked her phone. “I’d like to know more about this. But right now, I’ve really got to go.”

“Then we’re going to have to do this again. Maybe by then, I’ll be able to explain better.” He wanted to ask her out. But the straight line of her back and the tight line of her lips told him if he pushed right now, she’d be in the wind. So instead, he stood and held her chair as she gathered her things and rose. “Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

They chatted all the way to the parking lot, where he’d scored a slot in the first row.

“Is that your bike?”

“Yep.”

“Wow. Did you do the paint job?” Her hand hovered, a hairbreadth above the tank, tracing the ghost flames.

He shivered as if she’d almost touched his skin. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful. So real you expect to feel the heat.”

He sure felt it.

He took his helmet from the fringed leather side bag. “Maybe you’ll take me up on that ride sometime. When you know me better.”

Her mouth said “Maybe.” Her eyes said No friggin’ way.

“Hey, you wanted adventure, right?” He smiled and threw his leg over.

“Yes, but one adventure at a time. Right now, I’ve got a first day at my new job adventure to live through.” Her smile was a parting gift. “I’ll see you Wednesday. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Thanks for listening to my incoherent babble.” He strapped on his helmet, watching her walk away.

At least she hadn’t run screaming, or called the cops. He was going to call that a success.

He turned the key and cranked the throttle. The bike fired up with a roar. Wednesday suddenly seemed a long time away.

* * *

“OKAY EVERYONE, QUIET DOWN. The store opens in a few minutes, and we have things to discuss.”

Travis Kurt leaned against the counter in the break room of The Adventure Outfitter, addressing his Monday opening crew.

Hope scanned the athletic bodies draped over chairs and perched on counters, feeling like a measly mortal in the Hall of the Mountain Kings. They wore the company uniform of ivory button-down shirts with the sleeves rolled, khaki cargo shorts and lightweight hiking boots as if they’d been born in them. Healthy, tanned and self-assured—any one of them could have starred in a granola commercial. She crossed her legs in a futile attempt to hide their ghostly pallor.

Of course you feel ridiculous. You don’t belong here. You were a gently raised young woman, not a person who does their business in the woods. A cashier. I suffered, to send you to college, and you end up a—

She squelched her mother’s voice, midscreech.

“First, I want to introduce our newest team member, Hope Sanderson.” He held out a hand, palm up, in her direction.

She just offered a timid wave to the curious look-overs.

“She’s new to adventure sports, so she’ll be a champion of the checkout line while she’s in training. Have you decided which three departments you want to specialize in, Hope?”

No need to worry about her pallid skin, because she was now pink all over. “I’m not sure about the other two, but I’d like to try surfing, first.”

“Ah, good choice. Hope, meet Arthur Bogart Chase, our surfing expert.” He pointed to a young man leaning on the wall beside the minifridge, built taller and bigger than she’d imagined any surfer would be.

But what did she know?

He nodded at her. “Let’s talk later, and we’ll coordinate your first lesson.”