Head Over Heels. Gail Sattler
Читать онлайн книгу.
them for a few minutes.
“I guess you’re here to make arrangements for your car. I probably left a pretty big dent. May I see your estimate?”
Marielle felt her cheeks heat up. “I haven’t got an estimate yet. I was busy last night, and I’m on my way to work right now. I actually came just to see how you were, and to return your wallet. I had better get going or I’m going to be late.”
“Let me give you my phone number, then, and call me as soon as you know. Would you give me your phone number, too?”
“Sure.”
“I want you to know that if you hadn’t been there, I would have been seriously injured, maybe even permanently disabled. I know your car was damaged. I don’t want to be more of an inconvenience to you than I’ve already been. If you go to your insurance agent and this raises your rates for the next few years, I want to know, and I’d like to pay the difference.”
Marielle stood and smiled. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
She turned to go, but she’d only taken one step when a man of average build and height who looked to be in his mid-forties appeared in the doorway. When he saw her standing beside the bed, he quickly turned his head to check the number on the door, then continued inside. His polite smile, easy demeanor and friendly brown eyes immediately made Marielle feel relaxed.
When he turned to Russ his smile faltered, but he recovered quickly. “Hi, Russ. You’ve looked better.”
“Thanks. I needed to hear that. I’ve felt better, too. Grant, this is, uh, Mary Ellen, is it?”
“You’re close. It’s Marielle. But don’t worry about it. It happens all the time.”
“I’m so sorry. Grant, this is Marielle, the woman whose car I landed on. Marielle, this is Grant, my boss.”
Grant immediately grasped her hand. “I’m so glad to meet you. I asked about you when the ruckus died down, but no one knew who you were, or where you came from. You were like Cinderella, disappearing at the stroke of midnight. You were in the paper with your statement—but then things get so busy. And the calls…”
Marielle smiled sympathetically. “I’ve had lots of questions about yesterday, too.”
“I want to do something to make it up to you. After all, Russ is my best employee. But now that we’re face to face, I wish I knew what to suggest.”
“I was simply put in the right place at the right time. If you have to thank someone, then thank Brittany. It was because of her that I had to park to answer my cell phone. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get to work. It was nice meeting you both.”
Russ and Grant looked up at the clock on the wall. “It’s not even six o’clock,” Russ said. “You have a very early start to your day. What do you do?”
“It’s just an office job. I work in accounting. I start at six and get off at two-thirty. But I start early because I go someplace else afterward.”
“You mean you have a second job?”
Marielle froze. Second job? Not anymore.
She shuffled her purse under her arm, pretending she needed to concentrate on it so that she didn’t have to look at the two men while she spoke. “It’s not a job. I volunteer for a youth program that teaches underprivileged kids computer skills so they’ll know how to use computers for more than just memorizing the cheat codes from the latest online games.”
Grant nodded. “Well, good luck, and it was nice meeting you. I hope we can…” Grant’s voice trailed off.
Before Marielle could walk away, he wrapped his fingers around her arm, preventing her from leaving. “Wait. If you won’t take anything personally for what you did, can I make a donation to your organization?”
Marielle looked up at the clock again. “That would be great. We’ve had a bunch of new members join the group. We need to get more equipment and there’s never enough money.”
“You know, I’ve been thinking of upgrading some of my office’s computers. Instead of trading them in, how about if I donate them to your group? It sounds like you could really use them. Let me give you my card so we can set up an appointment.”
Marielle wanted to be on time, but at the mention of the donation, she knew her boss at her day job would excuse her for being a few minutes late. At times Marielle brought in some of the older and more promising teens for summer relief work or other odd jobs at her company. More computers at the youth center meant that down the line she could bring in more experienced helpers—a definite bonus for her boss.
She smiled. “That would be great.”
“Think of this as my way of making things up to you.” Grant turned to Russ as he reached into his back pocket. “I think the first computer that we’ll replace will be yours.”
Russ grinned in response. “I won’t argue with that. When I get back to work, I’ll make sure all my backups are current.”
Grant froze, his hand resting on his pocket. “You’re not coming back to work anytime soon. You need some time off.”
“I thought you came here to take me back to work, since I don’t have my car here.”
“I came to check on you, then tomorrow I’ll return to drive you home—and leave you there.”
“But what about that project?”
The two men stared at each other as if she weren’t there, which she wished were true. She wanted Grant’s card, but she needed to get to her own job.
Grant’s hand remained motionless on his back pocket as he spoke. “You’re my best employee, Russ, but you work too much. Everyone needs some time off, and you’re taking yours now.”
“I can’t just sit at home and stare at the walls all day, knowing my work is piling up. I’ll go insane.”
“Then, tell you what. If you’re really up to it, why don’t you help the nice young lady out at the youth center? Help her make room for the new computers—starting with yours.”
“But…”
Marielle had to interrupt. “Excuse me. I hate to be rude but I really have to get to work. If you can give me your card, I’ll call you later today.”
“Of course. Sorry.” Grant pulled his wallet out, removed the card and handed it to her. “Call me anytime.”
“I will. Thanks.”
“Wait. You didn’t give me your card.”
“I don’t have cards. But don’t worry, I’ll call you.”
Marielle quickly left the room, but as she walked out she heard Grant say, “Marielle, huh? Interesting name.”
Marielle’s feet skidded to a halt.
“Yeah,” Russ replied. “It’s different.”
“This is just like how she left yesterday.” A trace of laughter colored Grant’s voice. “Except you sure don’t look like our Cinderella’s Prince Charming with your face like that. Are you ever going to be handsome again?” Grant broke out into a full laugh.
“Forget it,” Russ grumbled, with no trace of amusement in his voice. “I’m not her Prince Charming, and I’m not going to be her Prince Charming. I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not interested.”
Marielle gulped air, along with a good portion of her pride, as she turned around and hurried out.
While she definitely wasn’t looking for another Prince Charming, it hurt to be so easily brushed off. Again. Maybe Michael—the man she had thought was her Prince Charming—was right, and the problem really was her, after all.
But this