Diner Girl(2)

Down the hallway, decorations still hung on a couple of doorways, even though it’d been over a month since Christmas. A paper star and part of what appeared to be a candy cane gathered dust in one of the corners. This place was filthy, something she hardly had a chance to notice on regular occasions.

Putting an ear to the door, she listened for movement from inside, but didn’t hear anything. She knocked again. A few more minutes passed with still no response; she pounded the door with a fist this time. She was tired, she was cold, and dammit, Clyde was getting out of bed. She banged until the adjacent apartment door flew open.

“You again?”

The man looked at her incredulously. His dark hair was rumpled from sleep and he could have made it to New York with the bags under his eyes. Gorgeous green eyes. Jennifer stopped her hand mid-knock and gaped at him in horror.

“I’m so sorry! I just need Clyde. Shlobansky’s out of town, the sign said to come here.”

“Well he’s obviously not answering,” the man chided as he ran his hand through his hair. He took a deep breath. “Clyde’s gone for the night. At his girl’s place.”

Her eyes burned. “I’m sorry.” She tried to blink the pain away. “I really don’t mean to keep waking you up.” She crossed her arms in front of her and turned toward the staircase.

“Wait,” the man said, the impatience gone from his voice. “You left your keys where?”

“At the Four-Star Diner, down the street. I work there.” Her voice cracked. Realization dawned that she’d have to make it back to the diner before Albert left. If he was still there. She bit her lip to banish the forming tears. She didn’t want to cry in front of this handsome man—not when standing in his presence already caused her stomach to do flip-flops and made her feel girly in a way she hadn’t since leaving high school.

She turned around again as a tear slipped down her cheek. She swiped it away before he could notice. Jennifer started down the stairs.

“Wait!” he called again. “Wait.”

She stopped mid-step to look at him. Waited.

Mark Stanton looked down at her wet shoes. His gaze followed up to that short skirt, her goosebump covered arms and her hair in a ponytail glistening with ice. He never could ignore a damsel in distress. What in the world was she doing out on a night like this in a skirt that short? With no coat, for that matter. She could be killed in a neighborhood like this, dressed like that. It also didn’t help that her legs would be gorgeous...if they weren’t shivering so violently. And that hair. Red, long, curly. He looked at her eyes, beautiful blue to set off that fiery hair. Fire and ice.

“Hey, what’s your name?”

“Jennifer Cleary.”

“I’m Mark—” He paused. He didn’t want to say his last name, just in case she might recognize him. “Give me a sec to get dressed, and I’ll drive you to the diner.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Well then, it’s good I offered, instead.” He threw her a wink. He went into the apartment and dressed quickly. Why did she have to be so pretty? He’d think about her all night now. Cold weather didn’t help much either; nights like this were built for holding someone close, not sleeping alone. It’d been a long time since he held anyone close.

Mark grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter, pulled on his coat and then, thinking twice, he grabbed a second one, as well.

“I brought you a coat,” he said shutting and locking the door behind him. “Where in the world is yours? It’s freezing. I can’t believe you went out without a coat.”

“It wasn’t cold this morning. I didn’t think to.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “My boss called me in early; I didn’t know the weather was supposed to change.” She took the coat and her face softened. “Thank you.”

Mark watched the coat engulf her. He was six-one; she had to be at least a foot shorter. Her face relaxed even more as the coat seemed to take the chill off. She pulled that hair out from the back of the coat, letting her ponytail fan out as it fell. Not being able to see her clothes beneath the hem only left an image in his mind…of her with nothing on at all.

As his groin tightened, he realized he might never look at his coat the same way again. “Well, anyway.” He groaned inwardly, trying to get a few unhelpful but very pleasant images out of his head. He started down the stairs in front of her.

Mark said over his shoulder, “I realize you’re probably not used to getting into strange men’s vehicles—”