Wrong Man for Her

Nick Logan slammed on the brakes of his little red Mitsubishi Eclipse. Too late. The front end rammed into the back of the van ahead of him.Damn it!Though he'd only glanced away from the snarl of traffic to check the clock, it had been enough time for the long line of vehicles snaking down Route 390 to come to an abrupt halt. "Great," he said, unbuckling the seat belt. "Just great." He vaulted out of the car and hurried to the driver's side of the van. Behind the wheel, a man in a business suit had a cell phone to his ear. The guy said something into the mouthpiece, closed the instrument and stuffed it into his pocket. He finally opened the door and got out. "What the hell did you do?" Nick refrained from reminding him that using a cell phone while driving in NewYork State was illegal. "You stopped fast. I hit you. Are you all right?" "No, I'm not all right." The man's face flushed. "I have an important meeting in thirty minutes, and I don't have time for this." He pointed to his van. "Or this." He gestured toward the traffic around them. "Me, either." The last thing Nick needed was to be late for his first day on the job. Well, his first daybackon the job. He glanced at the two bumpers. "I think I took the brunt of it." The man strode to the rear of the van and whistled. "That's what you get for going foreign. And buying a sports car." "Whatever." Nick hated lectures. "How do you want to handle this?" "You'll pay, of course." "I mean, do you want to call the police or take care of this privately?" The driver raised his brows. "Can you afford the cash outlay? The cost of your repair is going to be steep, even if it's just a crumpled bumper." "Probably not." Nick wasn't thinking clearly. He'd been up pacing the floor most of the night, worried about returning to his old job after a three-year absence. He whipped out his cell. "I'll call." The guy surveyed the traffic. "They won't be able to get through." "The cops'll find us." They always did. Nick knew that from personal experience. "I!" The wind picked up around them, along with a fine March drizzle. Oh, man, this just kept getting worse. As he punched in 9-1-1, Nick hoped like hell his lousy morning didn't foreshadow the rest of the day. At least he'd given himself an hour-and-a-half leeway before his meeting with John. And his good friend would be an understanding boss. Or he used to be, anyway. It took close to sixty minutes for the police to arrive, deal with the reports and for Nick to exchange information with the other driver. It took another twenty to get out of the heavy traffic, which had worsened because of the accident. He pulled into the Rockford Crime Victims Center parking lot at nine. His need for haste kept him from succumbing to the memories that swamped him as he took in the old, brick building on Plymouth Avenue. He shoved aside any feelings of nostalgia at being back at the Center, where he'd spent several years doing a job that helped other people and made him feel worthwhile. It was also the place where he'd fallen in love. Though at the time, he wouldn't admit it to himself. Or to Maddie. At least she wasn't working here anymore. He didn't know where she was now, or even if she was still in Rockford. He'd made sure, whenever he'd seen John over the past three years, or exchanged e-mails with Bethany, the Center's part-time minister, that they didn't discuss Maddie. All he'd learned was that she'd left the RCVC shortly after he had and had gone on to graduate school. Today, there would only be painful reminders of her within those walls. The entrance door was unlocked and the reception area was empty. Nick knew Francy Baker, the Center's secretary, still worked here so perhaps the staff meeting had started. He headed to John's office on the first floor to check where he was supposed to be. The door was ajar. NicShay, Kathryn is the author of 'Wrong Man for Her ', published 2007 under ISBN 9780373781638 and ISBN 0373781636.