Page 21 of Backdraft
I stood up quickly, and the blood rushed from my head. I steadied myself with a hand against the truck, blinked, and looked at him. "A bit. But I'm good."
"That really sucks. You want me to give you a hand?" the guy asked. He had on a baseball cap, sunglasses, and a big beard.
I looked at him and wasn't sure what to say. On one hand, I was ready to yell hell yes, please do this for me, but on the other hand, I was hesitant. For one thing, I didn't like to show any weakness, and for another, the guy kind of creeped me out. I didn't know him, and he could be just a nice bystander. I made a quick decision.
"Thanks for the offer, but I’ve called roadside assistance. They'll be here shortly." He stepped forward, and I retreated. My instincts went on high alert.
"If you're sure." His voice was gravelly, and he didn’t look familiar at all.
"Absolutely, thanks for offering." I saw a tow truck pull into the lot and relief washed through me. "Ah, here we go. They've arrived."
The guy gave me a smile. "Anytime." He turned and sauntered around the rear of the truck with a quick glance back at me.
I had the urge to run back and make sure nothing had been taken, and to see which way he went, or if he got into a vehicle, but the tow truck driver was getting out of his vehicle.
"Hi, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes," I told the driver. He was probably in his late thirties and rather attractive. This town grew them hot.
He laughed. "It's nice to be needed. Nice truck. Let's get you all fixed up so you can be on your way."
The man took a quick glance at the situation and immediately went to work. He was finished in no time. I'd probably have been here for hours. It certainly was worth having roadside assistance, even if the company paid for it.
"You're all set." He stood and grabbed a rag from his truck to wipe his hands. "Somebody got at it, I see."
"It looks like it. I have no clue why." I handed him my roadside assistance card, and he wrote down the numbers.
"People can be weird." He tipped his pen in the direction of the logo on the truck. "As I'm sure you know." He gave me my card back.
"Only too well." I closed my wallet and put it in my bag on the passenger seat. "Thank you, you're a lifesaver."
He smiled. "That's what I'm here for. Maybe I'll see you around Oak Creek."
"Maybe you will." I grinned and watched him drive off. He waved as he turned out of the hotel lot.
He'd put the ruined tire in the back of the truck, and I went around to close things up. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. The eight-foot commercial cap had side-locking cabinets—without the key you weren't getting in—the back had a slide-out bed tray to access the tools inside.
It was a big mother, and parking in a city can be challenging. I hadn’t found a drive-through big enough for it. Speaking of drive throughs, I needed that coffee.
I found the coffee shop and pulled into the parking lot. There was a drive-through, but I'd have to check it out to see if the truck would fit.
I maneuvered the big 4x4 to a spot large enough. I climbed down and reached in for my wallet. A purse really wasn't my style, and I didn't carry one when I worked. It wasn't the best look with my work uniform, which consisted of tactical pants, black belt, green patch safety shoes and logoed shirt.
Cool air rushed at me once inside, and I felt like I'd been transported to the South Pacific. It was glorious. Mock palm trees, tables, and decor with Hawaiian touches made me want to sit here all morning, or better yet, drop everything and fly to Hawaii.
There was a waterfall mural on the far wall, soft Hawaiian music and lapping waves came from the hidden speakers. It was calming, and I swear I could almost smell coconuts and flower leis. My morning drama drifted away like a lei floating on the waves. I decided I loved the place without even having tasted the coffee or food.
It was obviously a favorite of the locals. The place was packed, and I found my way into the line that snaked along another wall lined with nostalgia from the islands including photos of old-world Hawaii. It made waiting to place your order go swiftly.
A waist-high wall with tropical plants separated the line from the tables. A nice touch.
I smiled at the others in the line. My truck and the uniform sometimes raised conversation as neither were very subtle. Especially with the recent fatal fire that had been in the news. I didn't recognize anyone, but then my world hadn't really expanded yet to the greater Oak Creek.
I shifted focus to the menu and decided on a macadamia, coconut confection. They asked if I wanted it hot or iced. I pondered… Oh, decisions. Ultimately, I decided on hot. Amazing-looking pastries with Hawaiian names waited behind the glass and wood display. My taste buds sprang to life, and I couldn't decide which to get.
"Would you like anything else with that?" the barista asked me.
"Most definitely, my sweet tooth calls. But I can't decide. How about you pick a few and surprise me?"
She lit up. "I love it when guests ask me to do that."
