It's a #throwbackthursday blog post and I'm traveling a short distance ago, to last year this time. It was Wednesday, September 3, 2014 and I shared a post from BeJeweled: The Flight of an Angel, chapter 18: Moving On.
Today's #writerwednesday shares a snippet from BeJeweled: The Flight of an Angel. Olivia has been busy with preparations for the opening of her second salon in the Buckhead location. A few challenges have been tossed her way that would slow the average person down. But Olivia is determined to keep her focus on her goals and move ahead with her plans, despite the brewing storms all around her. What she isn't prepared for is an encounter with a stranger. Could the encounter be a planned meeting that has more to it than meets the eye, or is serendipity at work?
CHAPTER 18: MOVING ON
Atlanta had experienced severe thunderstorms and tornadoes for an entire week in mid-July. They were past the tornado season and this many storms at once was an anomaly for the city.
The damage that had occurred as a result had been horrendous and painful on the pockets of insurance companies.
The frequent threat of floods and tornado damage had made it difficult to travel around and handle business. Construction on the new salon had come to a complete stand-still as the workers scurried around securing their homes and helping to repair the homes of neighbors and families in the aftermath. She was glad that they were moving forward again as the month drew near to a close.
After shutting off the ignition, she pulled her sunglasses down from her head thankful for the warm, blinding rays of the sun that had returned to the city. She was stopping in to see how renovations for her new location were coming along. The storms had barely stopped before the contractors were back at work, making the necessary repairs and renovations for the new salon.
Walking up to the glass and brick building, she beamed with pride. The sun’s rays couldn’t shine brighter than her smile that day.
After pocketing her keys, she pulled the strap of her purse further up her shoulder with her left hand, while her right hand carefully held on to the hot mug of coffee she was carrying.
Her mind was running with the thoughts of what her day would bring and longing for Raymond’s company. She spotted someone passing by out of the corner of her eye and gave a quick glance and a distracted smile, and bowed her head down again lost in her own thoughts.
“Watch your step, lil’ lady,” came the coarse voice as it passed her.
Walking up the incline of the parking lot, she looked up and said “Huh?” as she simultaneously slipped on a patch of wet leaves she had somehow missed seeing.
“I gotcha.” Hands bundled in dirty brown, tattered fingerless mittens steadied her, preventing her from falling. Somehow the person was able to get her set upright again before she completely fell over, and miraculously she didn’t spill a drop of coffee.
“That was so stupid of me!” she fussed. She shook her head at the ridiculousness of wearing her red 3 ½ inch” stilettos in a construction zone, not to mention after a storm. She simply had not been watching where she was going. Glad for the assistance, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude that someone had prevented her from being hurt. Looking herself up and down, Olivia marveled at the fact that she also had avoided soiling her black skirt suit with coffee.
“Naw…accidents happen. Dem wet leaves be a monster and can be as slippery as ice if you ain’t careful. You jes be careful ya hear?” came the gravelly voice again.
Turning around to take a closer look at her rescuer she could only see a stooped older man in shabby jeans, construction boots and a sweatshirt. He wore a green, dingy skull cap pulled down low over his forehead. Almond shaped light-brown eyes peered out from beneath the skull cap at her assessing and watching her. She couldn’t fathom why he would be dressed like that in temperatures that were well into the mid-eighties already and expected to climb into the high nineties on this mid-summer day.
Olivia reached out her hand to shake his gloved ones. “Thank you, Mr.?”
“Ain’t no reason to thank me, gal. You jes be careful ya hear?”
“I sure will. But I really appreciate it, what’s your name?”
“T’ain’t no reason to ‘preciate me. Jes one of God’s chilren lookin’ out for another of His own. But the name’s Rudy, Miss Olivia.”
He tottered away from her down the parking lot, heading towards the other side of the street behind them.
“Wait! How do you know my name?” she called out. He continued tottering along, his only acknowledgement of her question just a simple wave of his hand over his head in a goodbye gesture, never turning around to see her slack jawed expression.
ONE CLICK YOUR COPY NOW: BEJEWELED: THE FLIGHT OF AN ANGEL
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