Vicki rubbed her hands and bounced on her tiptoes, darting her eyes up and down the busy downtown Salem street. She shivered and tugged her overcoat snugger when the wind blustering from the water over Pickering Wharf prickled her skin. She returned to wringing her hands together, the skin on her knuckles cracking from exposure to the cold winter elements.
“I knew I’d be stood up,” she said with a thick puff of steam exiting her mouth.
She shook her left hand so her watch would fall below her sleeve’s seam.
“Yep. Ten minutes late. This is the last blind date I go on. I swear.”
lastShe kicked a dirty-gray snowball across the sidewalk and turned to head to her car in Gardenia’s parking lot—the restaurant’s sign illuminating her backside—but instead she collided into someone’s chest.
Vic
