Steam Level: 2 out of 5
About COP AN ATTITUDE
Wise-cracking work-a-holic Waverly Ensworth doesn't recognize the no-nonsense small-town police officer who keeps issuing her bogus tickets, but she knows she hates him! The only crime committed is his attitude. When she learns his true identity, Waverly is swamped with guilt. Is an unrequited crush capable of blooming, or is the pain of the past too deep?
1
August
What was it about life?Every time you feel as if you are on the verge of hitting your breaking point, something else goes wrong.
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” I yelled at the top of my lungs, letting loose the immediate irritation I felt the instant I saw the blue and red flashing lights in my rearview mirror. It was pitch black outside, and the road was completely deserted, as it should be at 3:00 a.m.; I couldn’t even pretend for a split second that the police officer was trying to pull over anyone else but me.
My mother was right. Again!
When I picked up my mother at the airport in my brand new, bright blue Audi A5, she lectured me about how I was out of my mind for leasing such a flashy car. “You’re inviting trouble and traffic tickets,” she warned in her no-nonsense way. She used the same straightforward tone when she accurately predicted my ex-boyfriend Chad shouldn’t be trusted after she witnessed him ogling my cousin at a family barbeque.
Given her track record, her warning often caused me a sliver of doubt, which of course, I wouldn’t admit to her. Instead, I rolled my eyes and told my mother she was crazy. I refused to be like my younger sister, who dressed exclusively in yoga attire, drove a practical car, and lived for school bake sales and PTA meetings. I worked far too hard and was under too much constant stress to drive a boring sedan. It was bad enough I left my Manhattan apartment and settled in the suburbs to be closer to my office.
I signaled and pulled off the main road into the empty shopping center’s parking lot and underneath a light pole, followed by the unmarked car. As I waited for the officer to approach, I glanced at my reflection in my rearview mirror and winced. My green eyes were teary and bloodshot, and my dark brown hair looked as if a blind man styled it with his feet. As for my outfit, let’s not even go there.
Finally, after at least five minutes of waiting, a man dressed in blue knocked on my window. He was tall, and very muscular. He was also pretty easy on the eyes. I pressed the button on my door and rolled down the back window instead of the front. “Crap,” I said under my breath as I corrected my error.
The balmy summer humidity attacked me instantly, sucking all the crisp, cool air out of my vehicle. I plastered my best former head cheerleader smile on my face and practically sang, “Good evening, Officer. How are you?”
His face was emotionless, and he ignored my pleasantries. “License, registration, and insurance card, please.”
“Of course,” I said brightly. Two out of three were a piece of cake. I pulled what I needed from my purse, and then I reached into my glove compartment and fumbled for my proof of insurance. Somehow in my search, I sent my spare stash of tampons flying through the air. Three landed on my passenger seat with a flop, the rest fell on the floor. I rubbed my forehead with my left hand as my right one found the crumpled piece of paper I had been looking for. I noticed his nametag. “Here you go, Officer Ennis.”
“Thank you,” he said and gave me a tentative smile. My dad taught me when I was a little girl: a little personalization goes a long way. The cop seemed pleased I made the effort to mention his name—and humanize him.
I was surprised, but thankful, when he didn’t even glance at the documents, I handed him.
“Do you know why I pulled you over?”
I shook my head and tried to look innocent, which of course, I was. In my best remorseful-sounding voice, I said, “No, I’m sorry. I honestly don’t have a clue what I could have possibly done wrong this evening. I’m an excellent driver and always follow the rules of the road to theT.”
He arched a light brown eyebrow and I couldn’t help notice his eyes were the same shade of navy as his uniform. “Well, tonight, you were doing thirty-eight in a thirty miles-per-hour-zone,” he said as a matter of fact.
“What?” I wrinkled my face and did a double take. “Are you saying you pulled me over for goingeightmiles over the speed limit? Isn’t there a ten-miles-per-hour grace period or something?” I giggled.
“Nope,” he said without a trace of humor in his voice. “The law is the law, and speeding is speeding, especially this time of night.” He flicked on his flashlight and shined it into my car. As he peered inside, I knocked the stray tampons off the passenger seat with the back of my hand.
Then he turned the light on me and gave me the once over. “Have you been drinking?”Mystery solved!Instantly, I realized why he stopped me and let out a sigh of relief. He must have thought I had been out partying, which was a far more plausible assumption than the truth, especially given the ungodly hour.
“Only if we count the twenty cups of coffee that I guzzled every hour on the hour since the crack of dawn this morning.” Sadly, my excessive coffee consumption today was not an exaggeration but a life-saving necessity.
He clearly was unimpressed by my attempt at humor. I kicked myself for not having a better read on my audience. One of these days, I hoped I’d learn when to keep my big mouth shut.
I held up my hands. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t joke at a time like this, Officer Ennis. It’s been a very long and stressful Saturday. I’m sure you of all people can appreciate that, given your line of work. I’m bone-tired and want to go home to bed.”
“Where are you coming from?” Fortunately, this time his voice thawed out ever so slightly, which was a welcome relief.
“Work.” I exhaled deeply. “I’ve been at my office since seven o’clock this morning.” I covered my mouth but failed at stifling a yawn. “Sorry.” I blushed. Turning on the charm, which wasn’t hard considering how handsome he was, I elaborated. “I’m the head of IT, you know, information technology, for a specialty food distributor, right here in town.”
I couldn’t help but sneak a peek at his ring finger.Why were the cute ones always taken?I really need to get out more if I’m taking inventory of a cop who pulls me over.
“Yeah, I’m familiar with the field.”
