Read an excerpt from One Snowy Night Before Christmas
“This is some night,” Tom said, struggling for small talk. Why did the presence of a beautiful woman always leave him tongue-tied? He could handle himself with the ruthlessness of an attacking general in the courtroom, but put him alone in a confined space with a beautiful woman and he turned into a clown. And not one of those witty, cute clowns that could make balloon animals, but one of those clumsy, funny looking ones that were always the butt-end of the joke.
“Caught you unaware, did it?” she asked. He watched her profile as she stared at the road ahead. She was a tall girl, yet delicate at the same time. With full lips, flawless skin and the well-defined bone structure of a Victoria’s Secret model, she was the last person he expected to find driving a tow truck. “What has you out so late in a snowstorm?” Her words faltered near the end of her question, as though she decided too late it was a personal question.
“We’re on our way home from Sacramento. There was an accident on I-5 and I thought cutting off the main highway would save some time.” “Ah well, don’t worry. This weather can surprise the best of us.” “The ‘best of us’ are smart enough to buy this stuff.” He fingered a wrinkle in her heavy polar jacket. “Right after Christmas, I’m going to buy a suit of armor like this for us both.” Apparently Amy didn’t know he was talking about her, or simply didn’t care. Jessie skillfully steered the massive truck around a hairpin turn. The wind pounded them, making the truck shudder. The dark night was consuming, murky.
“How long have you been driving a tow truck?” he asked.
What a stupid question. Do you come here often? Dhur.
“Six years.” She didn’t take her eyes from the road to answer. “Wow, I’m impressed.” “Oh yeah?” Jessie glanced at him. The smile was gone, her expression hard. “Why?” Note to self: open mouth only to insert foot. “I...it just seems like a big job.” Criminy.
The sardonic smile returned. She patted his hand. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.” Touché.
Now he felt like a real idiot, but Jessie laughed at her own jibe, cutting his tension in half, and he chuckled along with her. She picked up her radio and called in, to Hazel no doubt, telling her she’d picked up “the ducks.” The radio crackled in response, but Tom couldn’t make out any of the words. Jessie dropped the microphone back in its holder and looked past him at Amy again. “That hot chocolate getting you warmed up?” Amy nodded. “Uh huh.” Glory be, a response. Followed by another uncomfortable silence. Jessie slowed the truck for a tight s-turn.
“How’d you get stuck working through the holidays?” Even before he finished asking the question, he knew it was a mistake, but he’d lost control of his mouth. He was intrigued by this beautiful girl like he hadn’t been by the opposite sex in a long time. “Don’t celebrate Christmas,” she answered simply. “Are you Jewish?” Shut up, Dunham.
She glanced at him. All the sarcasm was gone, as was the glimmer in those vivid green eyes. Now they were cool, like the ocean under a stormy sky. “No, I just hate Christmas.” Amy shot her a surprised look. “How can you hate Christmas?” Her already shrill voice hit a high-note, as though it were the most outrageous thing she’d ever heard. For a moment Jessie’s hardness faltered. Her eyes were almost sad. No, hurt was a better way to describe them. “I’ve just had a lot of bad luck at Christmas, that’s all.”
As she looked at the road again, her face suddenly registered shock. “Oh my God!” She hit the brakes, sending the truck sliding to a stop, but not fast enough. Whatever was in the road, it was wearing a red snowsuit, and it made a sickening thud as it impacted the front grille.
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