Page 7 of Christmas Rings

“Me too,” Alissa said. She clocked out, calling good-night to the girls who were removing makeup at the bank of mirrors in the dressing room. They all gave friendly waves before Alissa and Millie stepped out the back door.

It was raining, as usual. Seattle was a fine town, other than the rain and the fact that normal people couldn’t afford therent. Under the protection of the awning, she rummaged for her umbrella in her handbag and realized she’d left it at home.

“Where are you?” Alissa asked, as she scanned the cars and trucks in the mostly empty parking lot.

“Just two from you,” Millie said. “My car broke down last week, so I bought a new one. Not that I could afford it with tuition due, but I have to get around.”

“I hear you,” Alissa said. “I’m worried I’ll need to do the same soon. Last week, mine wouldn’t start and I panicked.”

“How’s Sophie?” Millie asked, as they made a run for their cars.

Everyone knew the story of Sophie’s accident. They’d all been rooting for her recovery.

“She’s much better.” Rain pelted Alissa’s face and drenched her hair. She really should have worn a coat. Spring in Seattle was temperamental. Cherry trees bloomed in brilliant pink, but the days were as cold and damp as they had been for months. “They let her out of traction finally. She’s home but still not able to get around much. The physical therapist will help once the casts come off but that’s another month away.”

“What a nightmare.”

“It has been, yes.”

They were at Millie’s car by now. “Does that mean another month for you here?” Millie asked.

“At least.”

“You’re a good friend,” Millie called out, as they parted ways for their cars. “Sophie’s lucky to have you.”

Alissa thanked her and sprinted the rest of the way to her car. Once inside, she locked the doors and waved to Millie that she was good. She set her bag on the passenger seat and wiped her face with a tissue she kept in the console. Shivering, she blinked as Millie’s lights illuminated the interior of her car. She put the key in the ignition and turned. The car’sengine sputtered. She cursed and tried again. Same sputtering sound. The engine would not turn over. One more time, she turned the key. Nothing.

She smacked the steering wheel. Rif or Marty would have to give her a ride home—but they were probably thirty minutes away from closing up for the night. She sighed, weary and feeling a tiny bit sorry for herself. Okay, a lot sorry for herself. All she wanted was her bed.

A tap on the passenger’s-side window caused her to jump, then scream. A face appeared, blurred by the rivulets of rain down the window.

Jed Marsh. She could just make out his square jaw and dark hair. If he was a serial killer, she was about to find out.

She cracked the window. “You scared me half to death,” she blurted out, her heart still pounding hard in her chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I forgot my overcoat and had my driver circle back to pick it up after we dropped the guys at the hotel downtown.”

She narrowed her eyes. His hair was completely wet. Droplets of water pooled on his long, black coat. Even with his dark locks plastered against his forehead, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen.

“I’m Jed Marsh, from earlier. I was at your table.”

“I remember,” she said. “It was mere minutes ago.”

“Right.” He wiped water from his eyes as the rain continued to pound him.

“What can I do for you?” Did he think she was the type of girl who offered her services for a fee? How dare he think so, just because she worked at Rif’s. “I’m not for sale, in case you wondered.”

His eyes widened in what she could only interpret as horror. “What? Oh my God, no. I didn’t wonder that. Not at all. What did you think? I was about to proposition you?”

She lifted a shoulder. “Why else would you show up at my car and frighten me out of my mind?”

“I noticed your car wouldn’t start. And wondered if I could help. Or give you a lift home?”

“One of the guys can take me home,” she said.

He hesitated, glancing toward the entrance. For the first time, she noticed a limo parked near the front of the club. “May I come inside? I’m getting soaked out here.”

Please, Jesus, don’t let him be a killer.She nodded and unlocked the door. He slipped inside, shivering. She became conscious of the worn cloth seats and ugly plastic dashboard.

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