Second chances on Fifth Avenue

Chapter 2: The Worst First Day - The Puddle

Eleanor's POV

I made it down to the street in record time. The subway station was two blocks away. I could see it from where I stood on the corner, the green railings that led down underground. The express train left at 8:15. If I caught that one, I'd get to the office by 8:50. Ten minutes to spare. Enough time to find the bathroom, check my hair, take a breath before walking into the HR office.

I could do this. I was going to do this.

I started running.

My bag bounced against my hip with every step. The granola bar Katie had given me was still in my jacket pocket. I'd eat it on the train. A few people on the sidewalk gave me looks as I passed. A girl in business clothes, sprinting down 5th Avenue at eight in the morning. Probably not that unusual for New York.

I checked my watch as I ran. 8:08. Seven minutes. The station was just ahead.

The intersection was coming up fast. The light was green. I didn't slow down. I could make it across before it changed.

That's when I heard the engine.

I glanced to my right.

A sleek black Mercedes was speeding through the intersection. The light was still green, but the car was going way faster than it should have been. And right there, right in front of me at the edge of the crosswalk, was a puddle.

A massive puddle, the kind that forms overnight when the city's drainage system can't keep up. It stretched halfway across the crosswalk, dark and murky.

I was too focused on the station ahead. Too focused on the time. I didn't put it together.

The Mercedes hit the puddle at full speed.

Everything went into slow motion.

The front tire crashed into the water. I saw the spray start to rise. A wall of brown, dirty street water lifting up into the air. It was coming straight at me.

By the time I realized what was happening, it was too late. The wave crashed over me.

Head to toe. Every single inch of me. Cold, filthy water soaked through my clothes. It hit my face like a slap. I gasped and choked on the taste of it.

My hair, which had been neatly pulled back, was now plastered to my head and neck. Water ran down my back in streams. My clothes stuck to my skin.

For a moment, I just stood there.

Water ran off my jacket and formed a new puddle around my feet. My bag was soaked. Everything in it was probably soaked too. The folder with my new hire paperwork. My notebook. Everything.

Then the rage hit.

Hot, sharp and overwhelming.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU DRIVERS?!!"

My voice echoed off the buildings. It came from somewhere deep in my chest, louder than I'd ever yelled in my life. People jumped.

The Mercedes, which had been speeding away down the street, suddenly stopped. The brake lights came on, then the car started backing up.

It pulled over to the side of the road, right in front of me.

The back door opened and a man stepped out.

Tall. maybe six foot. Dark hair, perfectly styled, not a strand out of place. Expensive suit, charcoal gray with a subtle pinstripe. The kind of suit that cost more than my entire wardrobe. More than my rent, probably. He had the look of someone who'd never had a bad day in his life.

As he walked toward me, I could see the genuine concern on his face. His eyebrows drawn together, his mouth set in a line.

Somehow, that made me even angrier.

"I am so sorry." His voice was deep, smooth, controlled. "My driver wasn't paying attention to the road. He didn't see the puddle until it was too late."

His driver. Of course he had a driver. What was I even thinking?

"Oh, your driver wasn't paying attention?" I could hear my voice getting louder. Water dripped from my hair onto my face. "That's GREAT. That's just PERFECT."

He stopped a few feet away from me. Close enough to talk but far enough that he wasn't invading my space. Up close, I could see he was probably in his early thirties. Sharp cheekbones. Strong jaw. Gray eyes that were currently looking at me with something like worry. Annoyingly handsome. The kind of handsome that probably got him whatever he wanted in life. Got him out of trouble. Got him into rooms he shouldn't be in. Gosh, even his posture was perfect, straight and confident.

"Please, let me help." He gestured vaguely toward the street. "I can buy you new clothes. There's a boutique just a few blocks from here. I'll pay for everything. Dry cleaning for what you're wearing now. A car service to take you wherever you need to go. Whatever you need."

I laughed. It came out harsh and bitter, nothing like my actual laugh. "You rich boys think you can fix everything with money, huh? Forget it!"

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, but it didn't help. More water just took its place. I could feel people still watching us. This was probably the most entertaining thing they'd seen all week. Girl gets drenched, yells at rich guy. Very New Yorkie.

The man reached into his jacket pocket. For a second I thought he was going to pull out his wallet, start peeling off hundreds like that would make this okay. Instead, he pulled out a business card. Thick, cream colored cardstock. Expensive, like everything else about him.

"At least take this." He held it out to me. "If you have any expenses because of this, dry cleaning or replacement clothes or medical bills if you get sick, please send me the bill. It's the least I can do."

"The least you could do is have a driver who pays attention to the road!" But I took the card anyway. Mostly so I'd have something to rip up later when I got home. I didn't bother to look at the card as that was the least of my problems: I looked like a drowned rat.

"My apartment is nearby." I shoved the business card into my wet jacket pocket. "Thanks for NOTHING."

I turned and started walking away. My bare feet left wet footprints on the sidewalk behind me.

"Wait," he called after me. "At least let me give you a ride. You shouldn't walk like that."

I didn't turn around. I just raised my hand and waved without looking back. The kind of wave that meant leave me alone.

I heard him mutter something under his breath. The tone sounded frustrated. Maybe annoyed.

Good. Let him be annoyed. I was way past annoyed.

I made it half a block before I had to stop and lean against a building. My hands were shaking. From cold or anger or both, I couldn't tell. Water was still dripping off me. I was leaving a trail like a slug.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. pulling it out, The screen had water drops all over it, but it still worked. Thank god for waterproof cases.

Three texts from Katie.

"Did you make it to the train?"

"Eleanor?"

"Starting to worry. Text me back."

I typed out a response with shaking fingers. "Got splashed by a car. Soaking wet. Coming home to change. Will be late."

The dots appeared immediately. Then: "WHAT?? Are you okay??"

"Fine. Just wet and angry. Talk later."

I shoved the phone back in my pocket and looked at my watch. 8:20.

The train I was supposed to catch is long gone. Without me.

There was no way I was making it to work on time now. It’s my first day, and I was going to be late.

I wanted to cry. Maybe scream. Or both.

Instead, I just started walking again.

My white blouse was completely see through now. I could see my bra through it. Great. Just perfect. I crossed my arms over my chest and walked faster.

The two blocks back to my apartment felt like two miles. Every step was cold and uncomfortable. My jacket was so heavy on my shoulders. My pants stuck to my legs. And the smell. God, the smell. Like a mix of motor oil, sewage and rain.

I finally made it to my building. The lobby was empty, thank god. I didn't think I could handle running into any of my neighbors right now.

The elevator took forever. I stood there watching the numbers light up. Three. Four. Five.

When I finally got to my apartment, I fumbled with my keys. My hands were still shaking. It took three tries to get the key in the lock.

The door swung open.

Katie was standing in the kitchen in her pajamas, holding a cup of coffee. Her eyes went wide.

"Oh my god."

"Don't." I held up a hand. "Just don't."

"You look like you fell in the Hudson."

I sighed, peeled off my jacket and dropped it on the floor. It landed with a wet slap.

Katie set down her coffee and came over. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just wet and late and my first day is ruined before it even started." My voice cracked on the last word.

"Hey." Katie put her hand on my shoulder. "It's not ruined. You're going to change, get on the next train, and go to work. So you'll be a little late. It happens. You can explain what happened."

"I can't show up late on my first day."

"You can and you will. Because you're Eleanor and you don't give up." She squeezed my shoulder. "Now go take a hot shower. I'll find you a new outfit. And I'll make you a real breakfast, not just a granola bar."

I looked at her. She was still half asleep, her hair still messy, but she was trying to help.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

"That's what besties are for." She gave me a small smile. "Now go. You're dripping on the floor."

Back at the Mercedes, Ivan stood on the sidewalk and watched Eleanor disappear around the corner. He was still standing there, hands in his pockets, even though she was long gone.

James, his driver, rolled down the window. "Sir, we should go. The meeting starts in twenty minutes."

"I know." But Ivan didn't move.

He'd seen a lot of angry people in his life. You didn't run a billion dollar company without making people angry. Competitors, business partners,employees. He'd dealt with all of them.

But something about her was different.

The fire in her eyes. The way she'd stood there, soaking wet and furious, and told him off without a hint of fear. Most people, when they saw his car and his suit, they backed down. They accepted his apologies and his money and went away.

But not her.

She'd looked at him like he was just another careless driver. Like his money meant nothing. Like HE meant nothing.

It was refreshing.

And infuriating.

Strangely captivating as well.

"Sir?"

"Right. And next time watch where you are going" Ivan got back in the car. As James pulled away from the curb, Ivan looked back one more time at the corner where she'd disappeared.

He pulled out his phone and looked at the time.

He was going to be late too.

For some reason, that made him smile.