Page 189 of Smoke and Fire
Panic shot through me when I caught sight of the clock.
8:57.
“No!” I squeaked, hopping into a pair of shorts. Of course, I was already late. No makeup, my hair in utter just-woke-up-disarray, and Bastian would be here any second now.
I grabbed one flip flop off the ground while rushing into the front to find the other one. Somewhere in a mess of clothes I’d dumped on the bed was a shirt I could wear, I just couldn’t find it.
There!
The sound of tires on the gravel outside followed.
With another cry, I lunged for the shirt. An emerald green color with light, silhouetted coconut trees against it. I yanked it on when the sound of feet approached the trailer. Of course, Bastian would be on time to the very minute he said he’d arrive. Meanwhile, I’d slept until three minutes before said time.
So much for my plan to wake up early, get ready, and present my best front.
Rapping came on the door.
“Just a sec!” I called in a failed attempt to sound calm. How could I stall long enough for a quick mascara job? Tell him to wait outside? No. Lame. Make an excuse about . . .something?
A quick check in the mirror confirmed my medusa-style hair. I paused, stared at my still-sleepy reflection. Mascara smudged the skin below my eyes. What did it matter? Thiswas unfiltered Dahlia.
I drew in a deep breath and muttered, “The hell with it.”
Seconds later, I yanked open the door with my usual bright smile.
“Come in. Forgive the mess. Just woke up.”
He paused outside, one foot halfway up a stair. After a moment of indecision, he stepped inside. Like Sione, his tall frame seemed to take up most of the space, but he didn’t appear uncomfortable. He gazed around, arms at his side. The smell of smoke drifted in with him.
No incriminating glance at my clothes.
No side comments on my hair.
Just a simple, sincere, “Nice place.”
“Thanks." I stepped back and swept an arm around. “It’s home. I did a tour of the US to see family members before settling here. Sione came with me the last leg of it. It was a blast.”
“Sione works at Adventura with Mark Bailey, right?”
“Yeah. Sione’s a pretty cool guy.”
He nodded, eyes still taking the place in. “I don’t know him well, but have heard good things. This is a nice camper. My Dad used to take us into the mountains in an old one that didn’t have much more than walls.”
“Yeah?” I murmured, searching for my sunglasses, then added a flippant, “You know how to fix a stabilizer jack?”
“Yes.”
I paused. “Really?”
“Do you need it fixed?”
“Yes, actually.” I bent over to grab a ponytail holder that had fallen to the ground. My hair threaded through my fingers as I pulled the top half back, away from my face. “The stabilizer is stuck on the ground near the front left. It won’t retract, so I can’t leave. With this fire building . . .”
When I straightened up, he was already gone.
I let the words trail off, then grabbed my wallet-phone combination, shoved it in my back pocket, found my sunglasses near my keys, and slipped down the stairs. No mascara today, apparently.
Bastian already stood near the front left, where the jack stuck. Yesterday, I’d spent time packing up the various things that would prevent me from a quick escape, if needed. The stabilizer jack was on back order in the nearest place in Jackson City.
