Page 12 of Lady Luck's Kiss
Hanging up, she smiled and allowed herself to be dragged by Beth off the dance floor. Waving, she smiled and knew that she was going to talk to him again – soon.
7
CHARLIE
The moment Charlie was back in her truck, the barrage began. The flurry of questions from Beth was overwhelming and she understood why she was asking so many. This was so out of character for her. It was all normally work, work, work… oh, and cars.
Never a guy.
Most guys were intimidated that she worked on cars or simply used her to get work done on their car. She felt like she needed to keep what was personal…personal.
The scent of his aftershave? The way his hands held hers? She shared what she could with her friend but there wasn’t much to tell. They didn’t talk much, and she didn’t want to be cross examined on how she felt while she was being held by Jack.
Dropping off Beth, Charlie thanked her for coming and promised to keep her informed if anything else occurred. Just then, her phone lit up with a text, causing the two women to look at each other in surprise.
“Spill it! What’d he say to you?”
Glancing at the phone, she smiled softly at the simple message. It was perfect and not overly mushy. She could hearthe timbre of his voice as if he were right here and said the words aloud to her.
“It says ‘Sweet dreams, Lady Luck’.”
“Ha! He doesn’t really know you, does he?”
“Nope!” she said with a weak smile. “Not at all.” He may not know her, but it was apparent that he knew how to gettoher. And she fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker. “Just a simple goodnight, see? Get some rest and I will holler at you later.”
“You better! Goodnight, chickie.”
“G’night.”
Charlie pulled out of the driveway and headed back to her little garage. Pulling into the parking lot, the motion detector light came on and she hurried inside. Setting the locks and the alarm, she headed upstairs to draw herself a bath and brush her teeth. She was so relieved that he didn’t kiss her. Relieved and dismayed. She felt like she had distinctly missed an opportunity tonight even if it was a night of firsts. She dropped a bath bomb in the running water and took a second to text Jack back.
Goodnight, Cowboy.
Thank you for the dance.
Staring at the screen, she wondered if she should say more. Instead, she saw he was typing, indicated by the three dots hovering on her phone screen. She waited patiently as she scrubbed her teeth with a toothbrush. Spitting into the sink, she heard the ding and knocked her phone into the bath by accident.
“NOOOOO!” she screamed aloud as she fished the renegade phone out of the hot, soapy water.
Racing to her tiny kitchen, she threw it in a bag of rice faster than humanly possible. Sealing it, she felt her frustration bubbling to a head as she hoped and prayed it would still work.
This was her third cell phone…this year.
The first fell out of her pocket and landed in a pan of hot motor oil, lesson learned. The second phone flew off her dash and out the window when she was taking an exit ramp too fast. Another lesson learned. This time, she’d just put the darned thing in bubble wrap on a tether cord. If her phone didn’t boot up tomorrow, she didn’t know what she was going to do because she had about emptied her savings.
Turning off the water, she glared hatefully at the bathtub that awaited her. She took two Tylenol and stepped into the water, sinking low. As much as she hated the fact that her phone could be fried, the water pulled the stress from her body. There was nothing she could do now other than wait and pray that Jack would understand why she wasn’t responding to his text messages.
The next morning was nothing but utter frustration. The phone wouldn’t boot up and, according to the representative at the cellular store in town, there was nothing to be done. They also wouldn’t sell her another phone until she paid off the balance on her current phone. That was not going to happen this week unless she got a big job fast.
Heading back to the garage in a funk, she aimlessly thumbed through the yellow pages hoping to find that Jack’s name was listed so she could explain. She was sick to her stomach at the sudden loss of communication with him…and angry at herself for the clumsy mistake.
Sure enough, Jack Seguin was unlisted.
Sighing heavily, she opened the garage doors and flipped on the open sign. She certainly didn’t want to wish misfortune on anyone, but she hoped someone would come by sooner rather than later. Using the landline she had at the garage, she called Beth and found herself tearing up on the phone.
“Aw, sweetie! Want me to come and get my oil changed again?” Beth offered through the receiver.
“No, but I appreciate it. It’s my own fault and I just wanted to vent.”
