The
movies call first meetings, in romantic comedies, the Meet Cute. I
think that's a stupid term and didn't even know what it was, until I
heard it mentioned in some program and had to go look it up. Even if
I'm not a fan of the Meet Cute term, I am a big fan of first
meetings. These often set the tone for the relationship, though not
always. One such meeting springs to mind, from my (as yet
unpublished) novel, Crime Makes an Entrance.
In
this novel, I was trying something different. I saw so many romance
novels that started with the two main characters hating one another,
I thought I'd give it a try. I couldn't sustain it, mostly because
the characters wanted to be together. Yes, there were still
misunderstandings and arguments, but they genuinely wanted to be
together and not fight. I thought that their first meeting was really
fun, though, despite the fact that it doesn't go well.
Dino
chuckled, enjoying Deacon's frustration too much. "I guess it's
fine to tell you now. I was able to get Hillary K. Du Champs."
The
name was not unknown to Deacon, he had heard it often enough in
theater circles up north.
"Hillary
Du Champs? Sounds like a little, old French lady with a bad accent."
Deacon
went on in some detail watching Dino's smile suddenly fade.
Turning around, he saw a petite, auburn haired woman glaring up at
him. She held three or four large bags which she dropped almost on
Deacon's feet.
Dino's
smile was artificial, his tan turned a few shades lighter. "Deacon
Stewart, I'd like to introduce you to our lighting designer," he
gulped. "Hillary Du Champs."
Deacon
held out his hand, taking his cap off his head. "Pleased to meet
you, Ms. Du Champs."
She
glared at him and didn't take his proffered hand. "Don't mind
me," she said with a strong Australian accent, "I'm just a
little, old French lady with a bad accent!"
Deacon
sighed, realizing he had put his foot in deeply this time. As
penance, he picked up three of the bags, Ms. Du Champs snatched the
smallest off the floor before he could touch it.
"Who's
the flunky?" she directed impolitely at Dino.
She
walked ahead of Deacon, beside Dino who shortened his stride to
compensate for her lack of stature. She couldn't be much over five
feet tall, Deacon thought. He'd never gotten along well with little
women. They tended to be bossy and arrogant, with something to prove.
Deacon
was around six foot three and lanky of build. His dark blond hair was
curly, unruly and a constant source of aggravation to him. His blue
eyes were rimmed with dark eyelashes, giving him a sleepy look. In
high school, he'd been mistakenly accused of being stoned more often
than he could count.
In
an act of defiance of his military foster father, he'd gotten plugs
in his ears and an eyebrow pierced. Several tattoos decorated his
arms and another on his right buttock, a challenge from a college
friend one night when they were too drunk to give a shit. He was sure
he presented a bedraggled figure to the compact, attractive and well
groomed woman ahead of him. Not quite the picture of a well qualified
professional man.
He
noted absently that she had a great figure and a nice, tight ass,
which distracted him so much, he nearly ran into the door jam as the
automatic door slid open. He set the bags down as they waited for the
elevator and looked down at Hillary.
"I'm
sorry about what I said. I didn't realize you were there."
"And
that makes it all right to insult me, as I can't hear you? You're an
uneducated buffoon, Mr. Whatever. I hope to have as little contact
with you as possible. So just do your job, tote the bags and don't
talk to me!"
Deacon's
temper nearly got the better of him, but the elevator arrived giving
them a few moments of struggle as they pulled her bags on board and
hit the button for the parking garage.
Getting
to the car, Dino opened the back and Deacon loaded the bags into the
luggage space. He tried to open the door for Ms. Du Champs, but she
walked pointedly away from him. He slid in the front seat himself,
shutting the door in her face.
"Now
see here," she reprimanded him. "Since when does the flunky
sit in the front seat and the professional woman sit in the back seat
with the cooler?"
Deacon
rolled his eyes in her direction, giving her a scathing look before
lowering the brim of his cap over his eyes, resuming his relaxed
travel position. "Since the flunky is the technical
director of the theater and the professional woman is being a snooty
bitch." He said firmly, fastening his seat belt with an abrupt
snap.
Dino
started the car and took off in his usual cavalier style. Ms. Du
Champs was silent for some time, just trying to stay in an upright
position while Dino drove down the ramps at forty miles an hour. He
cut into the outgoing traffic and sped into the night, zipping in and
out of traffic seemingly at random.
"Really,
Dino, do you have to drive so carelessly?" She was griping at
him now, leaving Deacon off the hook for the time being.
"It's
better when you don't look," Deacon murmured, sliding lower into
the seat.
Fortunately,
they get over their snit and develop a tightly bonded relationship. I
have to admit, I really like this pair. They have some spark and fire
to them that some of the other couples don't have. I haven't gotten
this story out yet, but I will one day. Yes, I keep saying that....
But yes, it will happen! I promise!
©
2016 Dellani Oakes
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