Page 31 of Hot Buttered Rum

“But you should see the dark haired hunk who caught the bird, or I guess maybe he owned the parrot because it flew right to his shoulder.”

“Turner.” I dashed into the open elevator. Rory followed with a look of concern.

I smacked the lobby button and the doors slid shut.

“Ginger, what the heck is going on? You’ve got me worried sick.”

“I’m sorry, Rory, but this weekend I met a man—” The doors slid open cutting short my rushed attempt at an explanation. I stepped out. Only a few of the early spectators were lingering. Most had returned to their offices and their desks. The one face I wanted to see was not anywhere to be seen.

I looked frantically around but there was no parrot and no Turner. I headed toward the glass doors wondering if he was asked to leave the building. It would make sense.

I raced outside and turned instinctively toward the parking lot.

“Awk! Pretty girl!” Dexter screeched from behind.

I spun around. Turner looked completely out of place on a busy city sidewalk with his long hair and slight swagger.

“I didn’t get a chance to say good-bye,” Turner said.

I shook my head. “Coco said you had gone out to help another fishing boat.” I walked toward him. Rory and a few of our coworkers had stepped outside to see where I’d run off to. She shot me a questioning look as I passed her.

I reached Turner and realized my heart was pounding so hard I could almost hear it.

“So, is that all you’re here for?” I asked. “A good-bye?”

“Yes.” He took hold of my hand and pulled me closer. “But I was hoping it wasn’t a permanent good-bye.”

“I’m hoping that too.”

“Good. Then, I guess this is hello too.” He kissed me to a round of applause from my coworkers and encouraging squawks from the parrot on his shoulder.

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