“I really must go now.” Tanya fidgeted with her keys, already warm and wet in her palms.
“You’ve been saying that for the last fifteen minutes.” Flip stared at her through his intensely black sunglasses. He was Mr. Mystique – wearing shades even in a nightclub.
“Yes, well….” Tanya carefully lifted her water with lemon and brought the straw to her lips. She was doing all she could not to dump the whole thing over her head. A wave of heat rose through her and she clasped her shirt in panic – yes, it was still properly buttoned. Why did she repeatedly feel like she was coming undone?
“You can leave anytime you like, girl. I’m not going to stop you. You want to stay, you can stay. You want to go…” Flip nodded and waved toward the door.
Tanya got a flash of those childhood dreams in which she wanted to run for her life yet could only plod her feet like wet sandbags. She eased out of her chair, fighting her faintness. She intended to spin around, toss her hair over her shoulder and never look back. Instead, she lingered, fidgeting with her keys again, then quickly paced, head down, out the door.
That confirmed for him all that he’d suspected.
“I’ve got to get out of here,” Tanya muttered as she stabbed at the key hole. Tanya was still trying to convince herself to leave even as she climbed into her car. She couldn’t drive just yet. Her body trembled. Her heart thudded in her chest. She clasped her shirt again – yes, the button was still there. She squeezed her eyes tight, telling herself she would be okay if she could just leave. She whispered in frustration, “Why does he seem to look straight through me though I can’t even see his eyes?”
Another wave of heat rushed through her as she cranked the keys and revved the engine. She backed the car quickly. The tires chirped as she drove west toward home, still saying, “I’ve got to get out of here.”
No comments:
Post a Comment