Part 4 (1/2)
You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear.
-Author unknown RACHEL ROSE FROM her seat and walked up the aisle toward the driver to admit her mistake. ”I think I boarded the wrong bus. I need to get back to West Astoria.”
The driver turned around and gave her a big smile. ”Happens every year. This is the Sturgeon bus,” he said, pointing to the sign above his head. ”The Dungeness bus is the one with the downtown route. On your way to the festival your driver should have made you memorize 'I am a crab.'”
”I didn't take the bus to the festival,” Rachel replied, ”but I am feeling crabby.”
”I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping maybe you took the wrong bus on purpose.”
His voice was warm and friendly, his smile disarming. Even in the dim light she could see he was handsome. If she weren't so tired, he'd definitely be someone she'd flirt with.
Instead, she frowned. ”Why would I do that?”
”To see me,” he said with a grin.
Was he flirting with her? Well, in that case, maybe she wasn't as tired as she thought.
”If I'd known you were this good-looking, I would have sat up front,” she teased.
”If you did, I would have been distracted with thoughts of our upcoming date.”
Upcoming date? What date? Was this his way of asking her out? Or did she meet him at a party several weeks back and forget to write his name down on her calendar?
Rachel stared at him, taking in his husky build, dark hair, strong jaw, and dazzling smile. She never would have forgotten to write down a date with him. She'd made the mistake of boarding the wrong bus, but maybe he'd also made a mistake. Mistaken her for someone else? She wouldn't let that deter her. ”I'd love to go on a date with you. But right now I need to get home. I live at-”
”Two-three-three Franklin Avenue,” he finished for her.
Rachel stiffened, fearing she may be alone in the middle of nowhere on an empty bus with a stalker. ”How did you know?”
”Maybe I read your mind. Some magicians are known to possess that talent.”
”Mike?”
He nodded. ”I wondered how long it would take you to recognize me.”
Relief surged through every part of her body, and she shook her head. This was the second time she'd thought the worst of him, and he'd surprised her. ”I thought you were a stalker. How am I supposed to recognize you without the mask?”
”My voice?”
”Your voice did sound familiar, but I'm really tired and had a terrible day.”
”Why don't you sit up here and tell me about it while I drive? I have to take this bus back to the school parking lot, but after that we can get my car, and I can take you home.”
”Will you take me home, too?” The question came from behind them.
Rachel and Mike both turned their heads. An elderly woman, her white hair pulled back into a bun, poked her head over Rachel's shoulder. Rachel hadn't noticed her when she'd hurried up the aisle to approach the driver. The woman must have been hunched down, asleep in her seat, from too much wine. She could smell liquor on the old woman's breath.
”I'll call you a cab,” Mike a.s.sured her.
”I'm Bernice Richards,” she told them and pointed a finger at Rachel. ”I saw you at the festival. You sell cupcakes.”
”Yes,” Rachel replied. ”We have a shop in town, Creative Cupcakes.”
Bernice's eyes fluttered, and she leaned her head back against the seat. ”Let me know when we get there.”
Mike called the cab service on his cell phone, and when they arrived at the bus lot, the yellow transport was waiting. Mike took the elderly woman's arm and helped her down the school bus steps so she wouldn't fall. Then, pulling his wallet out of his pocket, he paid the cabbie.
”That was sweet of you,” Rachel told him as the cab pulled away.
Mike grinned. ”She reminds me of my grandma, sweet as can be, but always into the cups on the weekends.”
”Don't you think it's odd she's alone?”
”Lots of women come to these events and meet up in a group once they arrive. It's getting home that's the tricky part.” He gave her a direct look. ”Isn't it?”
”I'm glad I found you,” Rachel said. ”How did you get roped into working at the festival?”
Mike shrugged. ”I heard they needed bus drivers, and since I have the qualified license and I'm between jobs, I thought I'd help out for the weekend.”
He led her to his car, a black Grand Cherokee Jeep, and opened the door for her to get in.
”First a magician, now a bus driver, and Andi says that you make miniature models for movie sets. Seems you're very versatile,” she teased. ”What don't you do, Mike?”
”I don't stalk beautiful young women who happen to get on the wrong bus at the end of the night.”
”Beautiful?” Rachel smiled on hearing that.
”And distraught. Like you need a hug more than anyone else in the whole world right now.”
Rachel stared at him and nodded. Coming from another man, it would sound like a cheesy pick-up line. But the way Mike looked at her, even in the dim light, made her believe his compa.s.sion was real.
In any case, she didn't protest when he wrapped his arms around her and drew her close. His chest was warm. He made her feel warm, coc.o.o.ned protectively in his embrace. And secure. Like her troubles didn't matter.
She wished he'd never let go, but a moment later he pulled back and started the car. She didn't usually show her emotions, but kept them hidden beneath her party girl smile. She must have slipped up tonight-maybe because she was so tired-for Mike to have seen through her.
He didn't ask what was wrong, but as Mike drove, Rachel found herself telling him anyway.
”The booth at the festival cost $400 for the weekend, and we barely broke a hundred bucks. No one wants cupcakes. All the people are interested in is eating crab and filling their winegla.s.ses with samples from the local vendors. We need money, Mike. I need money. There are only two days left, and if I can't make a profit, Andi and Kim are going to hate me.”
”Why would they hate you?”