Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100716 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 504(@200wpm)___ 403(@250wpm)___ 336(@300wpm)
They don’t consider bystanders as they pass through the turnstile door at the front. They proceed without acknowledging the potential impact of their knock to others, including a mother striving to reach her child on her tenth birthday.
“You should really watch where you’re going.” The woman who collided with me speaks in a nasally, jarring tone. “How will you cope knowing your Wilfred Iwona knockoff is beyond repair?”
“Probably how she lives every other day,” comments the blonde standing beside her while noticing the tear my tumble caused my homemade skirt. “Desperate.”
They laugh like children in a schoolyard. I don’t pay them any attention. My focus is so rapt on Val that I don’t realize that I am being assisted off the ground by a man until he responds to their remarks.
“That’s enough.”
The gravelly tone from earlier has returned, but this time, the stranger’s annoyance is directed at the blonde who berated me after knocking me over.
After righting my footing, he glares at her with extreme disapproval. His wordless scorn causes her to step back, forcing her friend to take center stage.
“We’re just playing, Ark. We didn’t mean any harm.”
I can’t decide what frustrates me more: her raking her nails over Ark’s chest as she replies like they know each other intimately, or watching Val’s sedan merge into the heavy flow of traffic.
I focus on the latter when Ark removes her hand from his chest. He does it with as much aggression as he used in the bathroom when I snuck up on him unawares, but this time, there isn’t an ounce of remorse in his narrowed gaze when she acts upset.
With her poor acting skills ended by a rueful glare, Ark returns his attention to me. He doesn’t speak. Instead, he raises a brow, its arch corresponding with the increase of my pulse when I realize he is still clutching my arm.
Unsure what he wants me to say, I begin stammering out the same excuse I gave Mrs. Lichard when the last time I missed the bus saw me returning home with a black eye and a split lip. “I took on an extra s-shift, s-so…”
My back molars crunch together when the blonde bombshells snicker under their breaths about my speech impediment. They tease me like they’ve yet to leave high school, which agitates me.
“Blowing out someone else’s candles won’t make yours any brighter.”
I’m not the only one shocked by my outburst. Ark’s cheeks are the color of beets, and a man I hadn’t noticed until now howls like a wolf.
I’m glad he is amused. At least someone is benefiting from the erroneous mistake I just made. I need my job. Desperately. Snapping at the guests of a man who can afford the outrageous prices of the Chrysler building will make that difficult.
Since my apology is for Ark, I direct it to him. “I’m so-sorry for interrupting your night.” I grimace before adding, “Again.”
My stutter appears to frustrate him as much as it does me, but he hides it with a tight, stern jaw and a quick chin bob.
I commence my gratitude for his understanding with a brisk smile. “Go-goodnight.”
I barely make it two steps away before a snide remark from Bimbo One halts my exit. “Don’t forget your broom.” Snickering, she hands me the doorman’s sweeper. “It’ll get you wherever you need to be in no time.”
A snarl furls my top lip, but other than that, I keep quiet. The logo stamped on the broom reminds me that she recently left my workplace one step in front of an owner. I have to remain polite despite my anger.
After taking the sweeper from her, I place it back in its holder and then stray my eyes in the direction Val’s car went. It’s long gone, so I turn back toward the bus stop, confident the number of improvements made to Myasnikov over the past six months means my wait will be done without incident.
When an elegant couple dressed to the nines slips into the back of a cab, I consider flagging down one of the many empty ones surrounding it. I’m only hesitant because every penny in my purse has been counted to the dime. I only have enough for Tillie’s party and not a cent more.
The hairs on my neck stand up when a deep, raspy voice floats past my ear. “Was that your ride?”
I turn to face a man who seems more of an observer than an instigator. He’s attractive, though not as appealing as Ark.
I doubt anyone could hold a torch to that man.
“No. Uh. I… Ah…” I wait for his eyes to lift from the spot on my arm Ark touched to help me to my feet before saying, “I m-missed the bus.”
His expression suggests he is acutely aware of where I was touched, though that seems improbable. The sensation is more a tingle than a painful sting, leaving no visible mark for him to identify.