Just a Little Hope

“Oomph,” Tori Alberson groaned. Exiting her lime green VW Bug, she slipped on a greasy spot of pavement. She watched the stack of folders fly out of her hands and into the air, scattering papers all over the grimy cement floor of the St. Louis University Hospital parking garage. Staring at the loose pages now littering the pavement, she threw her hands up in the air in dismay. “You've got to be kidding me.”

Another groan escaped Tori's lips as she crouched on the ground and gathered the papers fluttering at her feet. An SUV whooshed past leaving noxious fumes in its wake. Several of the sheets caught in the breeze it created and floated down the ramp, drifting underneath various cars along the edge of the garage.

Stomping her feet, Tori yelled at no one in particular. “No! No! No!” She raised her fist in the air at the SUV. “Fine. Just great. Appreciate you slowing down there, buster!” She eyed the taillights disappearing into the abyss of the garage below. Closing her eyes, Tori stretched her neck and sighed. “If I didn't love you, Pax, I'd just get in the car, drive away and go for some retail therapy.”

She snagged various pages haphazardly positioned under each vehicle along her path, her lower back rebelling at the constant bending and straightening. Tori's three-inch heels, so charming on the display at the department store yesterday, pinched her toes, creating the beginnings of a blister. “I know, I know. Cute doesn't always mean comfortable.”

Tori huffed back up the ramp toward her car. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied something white fluttering underneath the front tire of a silver Lexus. Stooping over, she spied a sheet of paper stuck underneath the tire. The Lexus was parked so close to the next vehicle that Tori almost didn't fit between them.

She lowered her head, chin resting on her chest. “Of course. Why am I not surprised?”

She placed the rescued papers to the side and reached under the car to snag the offending page, avoiding the sticky pavement, but the lack of space between the Lexus and the SUV prevented her success.

“You'd need to be a gymnast to perform this feat,” Tori grumbled to herself and resorted to getting on her hands and knees, trying once again to free the page from the tire's hold. Still not achieving her goal, she crept closer to the cement. Almost horizontal, Tori sneaked her arm around the tire, feeling the smooth paper slip between her fingertips. Tori held her breath as her face inched closer to the grimy pavement, eyes widening when she saw a wad of chewing gum millimeters from her cheek. Giving it one more reach, she snagged the corner of the paper only to jerk up at a husky masculine voice.

“Excuse me. Can I help you?”

Startled, Tori leapt up from her prone position and spun around only to be met by the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. As she pointed toward her hand holding the paper, her gaze didn't break from the stranger's face. She stuttered a reply. “Um. I, um. See, I was trying to get this paper that was stuck underneath this car.”

As Mr. Blue Eyes cocked his head and quirked an eyebrow, a shock of chocolate brown hair slid over his forehead.

Heat rose up her face. “Which I am guessing is… your car.” It was then Tori glanced at her hand and saw a small remnant of the offending paper within her fingers. The rest of the ornery page was still stuck under the car. Her face melting in dismay, Tori closed her eyes. She shook her head. “Worst. Day. Ever.”

She opened her eyes to his twinkling blue gaze. The corner of his lips quivered as he obviously attempted to keep from smiling.

“Hang on just a minute. May I?”

Noticing his outstretched hand for the first time, Tori held up both of hers, one still holding the ragged corner of the paper. “Oh no. Please, there's no need for both of us to be covered in this attractive parking garage grime.”

She refused to move. He cleared his throat and again raised an eyebrow.
Fine then.
Tori stepped back toward the retaining wall, waved her arm with a flourish and allowed Mr. Blue Eyes the opportunity to capture the paper still fluttering in the breeze.

He popped down and balanced himself in a plank position on his toes and left hand while reaching under the car with his right. Tori attempted to sway her gaze away from his muscular arms, but she swallowed hard at his biceps and triceps straining under the pressure of his body weight.
So, um… Mr. Blue Eyes did not lack in the physical fitness department.

Breaking her stare, Tori tried to come up with something somewhat charming to say. “Thanks. A lot. A billion, in fact. I've been chasing these rebellious pages all over this garage. This one put up the biggest fight.”

With what appeared to be little effort, Mr. Blue Eyes hopped up and glanced down at the paper now clutched in his hand. “Here you go. Sorry, it's a little ragged around the edges, but maybe you can still salvage it for your um… big jewelry sale.”

Tori's eyes widened. “What? No. I'm not having a big jewelry sale.” Snatching the paper out of his hand, she read the big oversized headline. “Blowout Sale. Gold Watches in Every Size.”

Hanging her head, she sighed again. “I don't know what this is, but it isn't mine. I thought it was part of the proposal contracts I was bringing to my friend.” Crumbling the paper into a tight wad, she grimaced. “She'll be thrilled to know there's a big blowout sale. Ecstatic.” If Tori could have spontaneously combusted on the spot, it would have been more comfortable than this humiliation.

She lifted her head at a soft chuckle. Once again Mr. Blue Eyes seemed to be trying to keep himself in check, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him.

His amused expression only frustrated Tori more. “I'm so glad I could entertain you this afternoon.”

Tilting his head to the side, he shrugged his shoulders, eyes shining. “I'm sorry. But you have to admit, it's kinda funny. Just a little bit, don't you think?”

She pursed her lips together determined not to smile, but she failed miserably. Unable to resist his lazy grin, Tori dropped her hands to her side. A small giggle escaped her lips followed by a full on laugh. “I suppose Jessica Simpson didn't anticipate this type of activity when she designed her collection.”

He wrinkled his nose. “Jessica Simpson?”

“You know the singer, entertainer, whatever. She ate Chicken of the Sea?”
You're a hot guy buddy but where've you been?

“I know who she is… why bring her up?”

“My shoes…” Tori gestured at her feet encased in hot fuchsia pumps. “She's the designer. They were cute and on sale and…” she grimaced. “…and not made for this type of activity.”

“O-h-h. Why is it when it comes to shoes, women always prioritize cute above comfort?” Again a smile formed, the brilliant white of his teeth enhancing his tanned features.

Finding his crooked grin adorable, Tori decided she could stare at him all day. But she didn't have time for adorable. She needed to get those papers upstairs.

Flustered, she rubbed her hands down her skirt to smooth out the wrinkles. “I don't know. I guess we're just wired differently.” Kneeling down, she gathered the stack of papers from the garage floor. “Um, thanks again, you know, for rescuing me — I mean the paper. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. Have a good day… in your cute but uncomfortable shoes!”

Rolling her eyes, Tori shook her head, waving as she walked away. “Thanks. You have a good day in your…sneakers!”

After retrieving the other papers from her car, Tori entered the elevator and punched the button for the lobby. As the doors closed, she smacked her forehead. “Have a good day in your sneakers? I gotta get out more.”

Tori rapped on her friend's hospital room door. “Hey there. Can I come in?” She waited for a response before she pushed it open any further.

“Sure Tor, come on in. Pax is ready for some company, I think.”

She peered around the corner and beamed. Her best friend appeared to be in much better shape than the previous day. The bruises from her recent car accident had faded, leaving a hint of garish yellow and green.

“How ya' doin', Pax? You're looking better every day!”

Smiling, Pax nodded to the handsome man in the chair beside her bed. “Ask Seb. He's a better judge of things than me at the moment.”

Reaching over, Pax's boyfriend, Sebastian Quinn squeezed the hand not encased in a sling. “She's doing quite well. The doc says she can most likely go home tomorrow if she plays her cards right.”

“Great! I know you'll be anxious to get out of here.” Plopping in the chair beside the bed, Tori glanced around. “Where's your mom and dad?”

“They're taking a break for a while. Seb ordered them to get out and eat at a real restaurant versus the hospital cafeteria.” Leaning toward Tori, Pax nodded her head in Sebastian's direction. “Of course, he won't leave no matter what.”

“Sorry, babe. I'm not letting you out of my sight. I wasted too much time and almost lost you, so you better get used to my face. It's going to be around for a while.”

Tori couldn't help but smile. It was obvious to everyone they adored each other. Tori knew after everything they'd been through, Pax and Seb were bound for the altar. Sooner rather than later if she'd have anything to do with it.

“Tori, what happened to your skirt? You look like you've been wrestling a grease monkey.”

Glancing down at her skirt, Tori brushed at the various dark smudges that stood out against the otherwise pale pink fabric. “I know! Isn't it disgusting? When I got out of the car in the garage, I slipped, and all the papers flew everywhere. One landed under a car and wedged itself under the tire — except it wasn't one of the papers. It was a jewelry sale advertisement. Mr. Blue Eyes got a kick out of that one; oh, yes, he did.”

Pax's eyes opened wide. “Mr. Blue Eyes?”

“Oh. It's just this guy who offered to get the paper for me. He saw me sprawled out on the pavement trying to reach it. And to think he didn't know who Jessica Simpson was…”

Pax and Seb turned and stared at each other before returning their attention to Tori.

Seb opened his mouth, shut it, and then opened it again before speaking. “I know you're Pax's best friend, but sometimes you don't make a bit of sense.”

Cutting her eyes toward Seb, Tori tossed her head back and snorted. “Well, you just had to be there, I guess.”

“If you say so.” Pax motioned with her hand toward the folders in Tori's lap. “So, speaking of papers, do you have something for me to sign?”

“Yes! Mr. Parker agreed to your terms for the advertisin, so I just need your John Hancock on a few pages. It only took three thousand phone calls and a Venn diagram to get what he wanted.” Tori rifled through the papers in her lap until she found the signature pages.

“I'm sure it wasn't that bad.”

Tori shook her head. “You have no idea. His parts department uses the Dewey Decimal System; I'm sure of it.”

“She's right. He is a little bit of a stickler for details.”

Seb scooted the over-bed table to where Pax could use it as a desk and raised the head of the bed to a more suitable height.

“Thanks, sweetie. I'm sure glad the car slammed into my left side. Otherwise I guess I'd be teaching Tori the betterments of forgery.”

“I just wish the car hadn't slammed into you at all, sweetheart.” Seb reached over to push a strand of her limp chestnut hair out of her eyes.

His hand cupped her cheek, and Pax leaned into his caress. “Yeah. Well, it happened and there's nothing we can do about it now.” Her face crumbled. “Well, except mourn the loss of my car. I'd had her for ten years. I think I lost a friend.”