Maverick for Hire

Nick pointed to the woman. “Let’s talk to her.”

“We could look around first,” she said, her nervousness increasing.

“No need. Hello, miss,” he called. “We’re looking for a dress. And maybe a skirt,” he said.

The woman looked from Nick to Cecelia. “For you or her?” she asked.

Cecelia looked at Nick and treasured the discomfort on his face. “Her,” he said. “Definitely her.”

The woman with a name tag that said Debbie nodded. She gave Cecelia an assessing glance. “Size six or eight,” she said. “What’s the occasion?”

“She’s got a couple of dates coming up,” Nick said.

“Let me find you a few things to try on,” the woman said and led the way through the racks of clothing.

Moments later, Cecelia stood in the dressing room with a load of dresses and skirts. Tugging off her clothes, she pulled on a dress. A knock sounded on the dressing room door, startling her.

“Your friend would like to see your dress,” Debbie said.

Cecelia made a face at the mirror then took a deep breath and walked to just outside the room. Nick glanced at her and shook his head. “Dress needs to be shorter.”

The sales clerk stepped toward them. “This could take a while, sir. Perhaps you would prefer to take in a game at the sports bar next door.”

Nick hesitated a moment. “Okay,” he said. “Find me when you’re done. Just don’t pick out anything my grandmother would wear.” He walked away.

Cecelia breathed a sigh of relief.

“Now,” Debbie said. “Let’s move on to the next selection.”

Twenty-five minutes later, Cecelia walked out of the department store with a dress and skirt she didn’t hate. Both had been on sale, and Debbie had secretly given Cecelia her employee discount. She felt a little more confident after purchasing the two garments.

Walking toward the sports bar, she smiled to herself as she strode inside and spotted Nick drinking a beer and watching a football game. She scooted onto the stool next to his. “How’s it going?” she asked.

He glanced up at her in surprise then took a sip of beer and shrugged. “Okay. They’re not showing my teams.”

“Boise State or Oregon Ducks,” she said.

“Or even Washington Huskies. I don’t ask much,” he grumbled.

She smiled. “Not much,” she echoed.

“Hmm,” he said with a nod and glanced at her bag. “What did you get? I’ll reimburse you.”

She lifted her chin. “No,” she returned. “They were on sale.”

“Great,” he said. “Grandma clothes.”

“No,” she said.

“So when are you going to show me?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m not sure,” she said. “You’ll be lucky to see them.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Hey, I drove you here. The least you can do is give me a little fashion preview.”

Cecelia grinned impudently. “Your reward is the pleasure of my company.”

“Oh, no,” Nick mocked. “I’ve created a monster.” He chuckled. “Look out, Rust Creek Falls.”

Cecelia felt her grin fade to a grimace. “I wouldn’t count on that big of a splash.” Stealing a sideways glance at Nick, she wondered what it would take to attract him. She wondered what it would take to make Nick fall head over butt. Cecelia closed her eyes at the silly thought. Nick was in complete control of his heart and his feet were planted firmly on the ground. He wasn’t falling for any woman.

They rode back to town listening to a Boise State football game. Cecelia just leaned her head back against the headrest and wondered what she was getting herself into. Did she really want to attract so much attention?

Did she want to remain invisible?

She closed her eyes, wondering if she’d deliberately fended off romantic possibilities. Had she been afraid? Or had she just wanted more than what she’d seen in the men she’d met in Rust Creek Falls?

The prospect gave her a headache. Too much to think about. After all, she’d bought her first dress and skirt in an eon. That should be enough.

* * *

The next morning, Cecelia awakened early. She showered, put her hair back in its regular ponytail and hesitated a microsecond before she put on the dreaded red lipstick. She’d almost become immune to it, blanking it out after she applied it in the morning. If she was lucky, she’d chew it off within a half hour.

Pulling on her jeans, a shirt and vest and tennis shoes, she rushed out of the boardinghouse without eating. She was running late and needed to help out with the community soccer games at the park. She timed the games, sometimes refereed and always gave pats on the back.

She gave a big wave to the leader of the league, Mr. Daniels, as she ran toward the field.

He smiled and waved in return. “Glad you’re here. No backup today.”

“No problem. Lots of little ones today,” she said, noting the mass of children.

“Yeah. Good weather. Not much sickness except for mine,” he said. “I’m glad you’re here. The wife, Sheila, is home with Bobby.”

“I’m sorry he’s sick,” she said.

“The doc says it’s just a virus. He should be better soon.” He pulled out a sheet of paper. “Here’s the schedule. It’s gonna be a long day.”

Cecelia alternated between timing and being a referee. Just as she finished her duties, she heard a male voice.

“Hi,” he said.

She glanced up from her time sheet. The man in front of her was young and attractive. “Hi,” she said. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You want to go get some wings?”

She blinked at the invitation. She’d been helping at soccer games throughout the fall and no one had approached her for so much as a cup of water.

“I’m Brent Mullins. I coach for my son’s team,” he said.