Chapter Two
1273 Words
JESSICA
The traffic was crazy, like something out of a nightmare. Jess tapped the steering wheel with both hands, glancing at the time on her phone for what had to be the hundredth time. Thirty minutes left. Thirty tiny, precious minutes to get to her interview, and here she was stuck on the highway like a sardine in a tin can.
“Of course,” she muttered under her breath. “Of course the universe has to play with me today. Why not?”
Cars honked all around her, the noise rising in waves. A man leaned halfway out of his window two lanes over, screaming at nobody in particular, while a woman in front of Jess’s car leaned on her horn like it was her new job.
Jess shoved her head back against the seat. “I think the universe doesn’t want me to get this job. Seriously. Because tell me—why in the name of common sense is there traffic at nine-thirty on a Monday morning? Don’t people have jobs to get to? Oh wait, they do. That’s the problem.”
She drummed her fingers, watching the digital clock tick. Twenty-nine minutes.
And then it happened.
A loud BUMP! rattled through her small car, throwing her forward against the seatbelt. Jess’s mouth dropped open as her heart thudded.
“Oh, dear Lord,” she whispered. Her hand flew to her forehead. “Oh no. Oh, no, no, no.”
Her thoughts raced so fast they nearly tripped over each other. Okay. Okay. This is fine. Maybe he just kissed the bumper. Maybe it’s just paint. Or maybe my bumper is lying in the middle of the road right now waving goodbye.
She inhaled deeply, muttering under her breath, “God, it’s official. I’m cursed. Cursed and unemployed. Thank you, sweet Mary, Mother of God, for the double package.”
Fumbling with the door, Jess shoved it open and scrambled out, her heels clicking dramatically against the pavement. She whirled around to face the car behind her.
The damage wasn’t… catastrophic, but Jess was too fired up to care. She pointed an accusing finger at the car. “Are you kidding me right now?!” she yelled, her voice carrying over the noise of honks and engines.
The driver’s window stayed firmly rolled up.
Jess marched closer, placing both hands on her hips. “Hey! Yeah, you! Bumper murderer! Get out of that car right now and come see the mess you’ve made. Don’t just sit there looking like you’re waiting for a pizza delivery!”
Nothing.
Jess smacked the hood lightly with her palm. “Don’t play dead, I know you’re in there! Don’t make me come knocking like the police. Because trust me, I’ve got the attitude today.”
Finally, the driver’s door opened. Slowly.
And out he came.
Jess froze. The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed in a tailored suit that screamed more money than her entire bank account had ever seen. His expression? Flat. Unbothered. Like he’d just bumped into a lamppost, not her poor little car.
Her jaw dropped.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Jess said out loud.
He didn’t answer. Didn’t frown. Didn’t even look slightly guilty. Instead, he slid a hand into his pocket and pulled out… a small card.
Jess blinked. “Oh, fantastic. The silent treatment. What are you, a magician? Gonna make the dent disappear with your fancy card?”
The man held the card out to her, his eyes unreadable. “Address of an auto shop. They’ll fix it.”
Jess’s mouth fell open wider. “Excuse me?”
No apology. No ‘Oops, my bad.’ Nothing. Just a stupid little card.
Her brain short-circuited. “You—you absolute bumper assassin! That’s all you’ve got to say? ‘Here’s a card’? Are you serious right now?”
He glanced briefly at the back of her car, then at her, calm as ice. “It’s just a scratch.”
Jess gasped like he’d slapped her across the face. “Just a scratch? Just a—oh my God, do you have eyes? Do you even see this?” She gestured wildly at the car, even though the damage wasn’t as dramatic as her voice made it sound. “My bumper has been assaulted, and you’re calling it a scratch?!”
His lips twitched, but not quite, a smile. “You’ll survive.”
Jess nearly combusted on the spot. “Oh, unbelievable. Look at you, walking around like you own the road with your big fancy car and your stone face! You think the world is your driveway?!”
He said nothing. Just tucked the card into her hand like it was the end of the conversation, turned smoothly on his heel, and walked back to his car.
Jess sputtered. “Wait a second—no, no, don’t you dare—hey! I’m not done with you! You can’t just drive off like some bumper thief in a suit!”
But he slid into his seat, started the engine, and pulled smoothly back into the lane without so much as a glance in her direction.
Jess stood there in the middle of the road, card in hand, hair slightly frizzing from the morning humidity, and stared in disbelief as his car vanished into the distance.
Her mouth opened and closed like a fish. “What… just… happened?”
A honk blared behind her, and Jess jumped. She went back into her car, slamming the door shut. Tossing the card onto the passenger seat, she gripped the wheel with both hands and growled under her breath.
“Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. Who does that? No sorry, nothing, just drops a card like he’s Santa Claus handing out coupons. Ugh!”
She ranted the entire way forward as the traffic inched on.
“Mr. Stone Face, that’s what you are. No, Bumper Assassin. Yes. Bumper Assassin. Thinks he can just crush my bumper and strut away like some walking fridge in a suit. Oh, I hope karma finds you and dumps coffee all over your precious tie.”
Jess snorted to herself, then immediately shook her head. “And me, like a fool, standing there ranting in the middle of the road like a crazy woman. Oh, great impression, Jess. Really professional. Who needs a job when you can scream about bumpers on a highway?”
The clock on the dash glowed: fifteen minutes left.
Her stomach dropped.
“Fifteen minutes?! Dear heavens, this day is officially out to kill me. First traffic, now bumper drama with Mr. Fridge Face. If I make it to this interview alive, I deserve a medal. No, scratch that, I deserve a crown.”
She pressed harder on the gas as the cars finally began to go faster, through the lanes with muttered prayers spilling from her lips.
“God, please, if I land this job, I swear I’ll—I’ll… okay, I can’t think of what I’ll do, but I’ll do something holy. Just don’t let this be the end of me.”
The card on the passenger seat slid a little with the motion of the car, catching her eye. Jess scowled at it.
“Stupid little card. Who even does that? Probably thinks he’s God’s gift to the highway. Watch me never see you again, you bumper-crushing, stone-faced, walking ego.”
She huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face.
“But if I do… oh, if I do…” Jess muttered, eyes narrowing as she sped forward. “I swear, I’m throwing my shoe at you.”
- Writer
