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- Elizabeth Parrish
Good Vibrations
Good Vibrations Read online
This book is dedicated to my partner.
You have been my rock and my support system. I cannot imagine my life without you. Thank you for being my soul mate.
You will always have my heart.
The characters and the events portrayed and the names herein are fictitious, and any similarity to the name, character, or history of any person is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
Any actual persons and events which may be referenced in this book are included solely for realism and are entirely unrelated to the fictional characters and events.
What is luck but the ability to exploit accidents – Jeanette Winterson
1. Mmm, I don’t know who invented the caramel macchiato, but even a snowy Monday morning drive in hellish rush hour Vancouver traffic doesn’t seem so bad with…
OMG! Brakes, brakes, brakes!
God, I promise that I’ll chat with you a bit more frequently in the future if you will just…thump!
Really?
I have one teeny, tiny sip of my requisite morning coffee whilst behind the wheel and my karmic retribution is to be stuck to the bumper of…yikes! A rather expensive looking little Benz.
Well, isn’t that just my luck?
How is it that practically every guy on the road seems to own a massive truck where a little bump like that wouldn’t even have interrupted the phallically challenged, follically impaired, Ed Hardy wearing driver from scratching himself, let alone caused any damage; but one ill-timed sip of coffee and somehow I end up stuck to a little piece of Bavaria?
Oh no! The new man in my life was already out of his car and he was heading my way like there was something on his mind. Wow, so this is what a heart attack must feel like? I so did not need that double shot of espresso in my coffee this morning.
As I sat there shaking uncontrollably in my car, I couldn’t help but wonder if I perhaps I should have put my contacts in before starting my drive after all? It was just so much harder to tell if someone was furious when everything was all blurry like this.
Breathe, breathe, breathe…
“Hello there, are you okay ma’am?” I heard from the direction of my driver’s side window before gathering enough courage to glance up and take note of the look of concern etched onto a young, well-chiselled face.
Ma’am? Seriously?
My car being attached to your bumper isn’t bad enough? You really feel the need to remind me that I’m turning the big 3 - 0 in a couple of weeks?
As I turned my gaze back to the window, I couldn’t help thinking that my plan to do my makeup in the parkade this morning to save time may have seriously backfired.
“Yes, I’m okay I think, thanks. I’m just a bit shaken up. Are you okay? Is there any damage to your car?” I asked as I mentally calculated how many pairs of shoes I was going to have to forego to be able to afford my car insurance premium after this.
“It looks like there’s just a little chip in my bumper as far as I could see. It’s a bit hard to tell with all this snow though. Maybe we should just swap contact info and get out of all this traffic and we can go from there? Could I get your number?” he calmly inquired, seemingly nonplussed by the situation.
Well now, let’s ponder that question for a moment, shall we? Nice looking young guy in an expensive looking suit. Certainly no discernible temper. Tall enough that I could still wear heels around him (a definite bonus as, at 5’9, adding a few inches with heels could severely limit my dating pool).
As I gave my new friend a more thorough visual inspection, I decided that, while he could stand to be a bit more adventurous with his hair, his eyes had a bit of a sparkle to them and he seemed to fill out his suit quite well.
You betcha you can have my number.
Gazing around at the snow falling softly around us, I couldn’t help thinking to myself that this would be downright dreamy if I hadn’t just mangled his expensive little German car.
Why was it that I could only find guys like this after having attached my car to his, my makeup half done at best and with my normally glistening shoulder length, chestnut brown hair lying in a sopping heap behind my neck?
“Okay, just give me just a second; I’m sure I have a piece of paper in here somewhere. I’m so sorry about all of this by the way. It’s just so slippery on the roads with all this snow,” I replied, trying to move the conversation along as quickly as possible so that my mystery man didn’t get this particular image of me imprinted on his memory.
As I turned to scour my car for any scrap of paper that I could write on, a sour looking old bat materialized out of nowhere, breathlessly saying, “I saw everything! That woman just plowed right into your car! Here’s my phone number young man. If you need a witness, please don’t hesitate to call me,” she concluded, shooting me a disapproving scowl as she passed him her number.
Oh no, witnesses? I don’t like where this is heading at all. Just let me find a piece of paper and get out of here before this situation gets any worse!
Hmm, nothing but a coffee receipt? I hope that this doesn’t look too suspicious.
“Thanks, that’s very thoughtful of you. It was so kind of you to take the time to stop,” I heard from behind me as I looked up in time to see him courteously taking her information.
After quickly scrawling my number on the back of the receipt, I flashed him my sweetest smile and, as I not so subtly stepped in front of his witness in a blatant effort to shoo her away, I said, “Here you go. Once you’ve had a chance to get the damage appraised, could you let me know what the bill is? I would rather avoid going through insurance if we possibly could?”
I really hope all those teeth whitening sessions were worth it because you’re getting a full dose of them right now my friend.
The brief intimacy of the moment was abruptly shattered when, out of nowhere, I heard a voice ring out, “Anna, what have you gotten yourself in to?”
That’s me by the way; Anna Graham. Clearly my parents had been a bit tipsy when the time came to think up a name for me and I had been paying the price for it ever since.
I swivelled my head around up just in time to see Veronica Lange, a co-worker and one of my best friends, leaning out of her car window; clearly taking far too much delight in my misery. I could only imagine the abuse that would be in store for me when I finally arrived at the office.
“An acquaintance of yours?” my new found friend asked, flashing me a smile that caused the butterflies in my stomach to do a couple of back flips.
“She’s one of my best friends in the world. It’s just my luck that she would drive past and see this, though. She already gives me grief about my driving,” I replied with a nervous laugh, beaming a smile right back at him until it suddenly dawned on me that now was probably not the best time to be volunteering information regarding my somewhat spotty driving skills.
“In that case, drive safe and hopefully we run into each other again soon,” he responded with a wink.
Hmm, well isn’t he a bit of a cheeky monkey? I thought to myself as we parted ways.
As he drove off, I took a sip from the remnants of my, now ice cold, coffee. It was far more excitement than I needed first thing on a Monday morning, but if it was just a tiny dent, then perhaps this won’t be all bad…
Some cause happiness wherever they go; others, whenever they go – Oscar Wilde
2. As I opened the door to Beckwith and Howe, the divorce mediation firm where I currently whiled away my days answering phones and fetching coffee, I quickly spotted Veronica waiting for me with an impish grin on her cheerful, cherub face.
“So…how was your drive in today?” she inquired with affected earnestness.
“Well, after suffering through the hairy dwarf experience that was your l
ast ‘perfect match’ for me, I’ve decided to take a more direct approach to meeting men,” I retorted with a wry smile.
“Anna! Don’t tell me you were flirting with him?”
“Flirting probably isn’t the right word for it. Mostly I was trying to keep myself from being sued. That being said, he was pretty nice about the whole situation and he did fill out a suit pretty well. Besides, the last guy you set me up with showed up for our first date in a John Deere t-shirt, told me that he dressed to impress, and then tried to get me to go target shooting for our second date, so it’s not like I’ve been setting the bar too high lately.”
“To be fair, aren’t you the one who is always complaining to me about not having had a guy fire off his gun in your direction in a while?” she responded, swatting me playful on my bum with a file.
“Maybe, but I wouldn’t mind finding a guy where that’s not his idea of foreplay! Besides, I found my charger for Thumper. If I’m going to settle for a date that can’t string two sentences together, I want to at least know that I’m going to be satisfied at the end of the night.”
“Then I know that you can’t be talking about me,” the unexpected voice coming from directly behind me.
I spun around to find myself eye to forehead with Paul D’Antoni, our office’s youngest mediator and an incessant flirt.
At 5’6, Paul suffered from a seemingly incurable case of LMS (little man syndrome), resulting in a never-ending barrage of one-liners tossed in the direction of any woman unlucky enough to cross his path.
I have to give credit where credit was due, and what there was of him didn’t look half bad. Unfortunately for Paul, since half was about all there was of him, he fell well short of the minimum height requirement for this particular ride.
“No, I know you can string two sentences together,” I retorted as I sat down and crossed my legs in his direction, letting my skirt hike up just a bit.
“But when it comes to the question of how you can leave me satisfied, I’m thinking that your best shot there is to take one for the team and bring Maggie her coffee.”
Maggie Beckwith was the managing partner of the firm and, after spending 20 years practicing family law, being at the end of her steely gaze was an intense experience, particularly after having played bumper cars on the drive in.
“That’s so cold! What about that day when I joined you in the copy room?” Paul responded indignantly as he shot me a defiant glare.
“Well, all that I remember happening is that you bumped in to me and that tiny little pen that you carry around in your pocket seemed to be trying to poke me,” I retorted with an evil grin as I slid past him, my pert bottom not so discreetly aimed his way as I started my slow march to Maggie’s office with her daily caffeine fix, leaving Paul fuming and Veronica trying desperately to stifle her laughter.
While nothing had really ever happened between us, and most likely never would, I wasn’t opposed to a little friendly banter provided that no clients were within earshot. Besides, a little ego boost never hurts.
Having forlornly arrived at my destination at the end of the hall, I shivered involuntarily as I stepped inside Maggie’s office. As I put the coffee down in front of her, Maggie, who couldn’t even be bothered to raise her gaze in my direction, snapped, “You were late again this morning Anna. Perhaps you should consider leaving for work a bit earlier?”
“Good morning Maggie. I’m so sorry about that. I got into a bit of a fender bender on my drive in to work because of all this snow. It was just a one-time thing though.”
“You’re still able to work today then?” she replied curtly, as if my suffering was an unpardonable inconvenience to her schedule.
Yes, you insipid old cow. I’m here at your beck and call, giving you what remains of my fleeting youth while you bilk people out of their hard earned cash during their darkest hour.
“Absolutely Maggie. I just slid into someone’s bumper at a light. No major injuries to either of us,” I responded, wasting an Oscar worthy effort at looking distraught on a woman who had long ago parted ways with human emotions.
“Alright. Please make sure that any insurance matters are dealt with on your own time,” Maggie retorted as she abruptly turned her gaze back to her desk.
No, no. No need to enquire about my emotional state. Just a bit distraught over the idea of working here for free for the next twenty years to pay off the upcoming repair bill but no, I don’t need to take the rest of the day off to recover or anything.
“Of course Maggie. I’ll be up front if you need anything else.”
Like a shot of cyanide in your coffee perhaps?
The office was equally divided as to whether listening to couples bitch and moan about each other for 20 years has left her jaded and bitter, or whether she had always been this way and she just been drawn to this profession because it fit so perfectly with her personality.
I was personally a firm believer that it was biological.
I had put up with her sour face for three years and, despite that daily torment, I was still every bit as sweet now as when I decided that my liver couldn’t handle a lifetime of being a bartender.
Sadly, my occasional, half-hearted efforts to explore my job options had left open the possibility that I would still be there to eventually send Maggie off into retirement.
Or a coffin.
Whichever came first, really.
Who knew that being an English major would somewhat limit one’s career choices?
That being said, every time I walked into Maggie’s office I still got a tiny bit nostalgic for my little black skirt and that jar full of tips at the end of the night…
As I walked back to my desk, idly pondering the average lifespan of a mediator, Veronica handed me the phone with a mischievous smile as she whispered to me, “I think it’s your new friend. Is he a lawyer? The number shows up as being from Stein, Adelman & Fischbein.”
My heart immediately started pounding violently in my chest as I digested that unexpected piece of news.
Stein, Adelman & Fischbein was one of the largest law firms in Vancouver and their litigators were notoriously ruthless. Had I somehow managed to lock horns, and bumpers, with one of their own? He looked so young and innocent.
Gulp!
Picking up the phone, I whispered, “Anna speaking, how can I help you?” my voice inadvertently coming out as a timid squeak.
“Hey Anna, it’s Jonathan, from our little get together this morning. I just wanted to give you a quick call to see how you’re doing?”
Wow, is he for real? I ran into him, mangled his car, and he’s calling to see how I am?
Either I had quite an effect on him and he was very sweet or there was some ulterior motive at work here.
“I’m a bit shaken up, but otherwise I think I’m fine. I’m so sorry about denting your car. It was just so slippery out there this morning,” I replied, my heart pounding furiously in my chest.
Please, please, please don’t sue me!
Subsisting on carrots should be a lifestyle choice based on one’s proximity to swimsuit season. It should not be a necessity dictated by one’s depleted and/or non-existed savings account.
“No worries, it could have happened to anyone. I’m glad to hear you’re okay though. You had a bit of a ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look going on this morning.”
Well, have you ever had a strapping, six foot four inch tall man approaching your vehicle after you’ve attached your car to his bumper? How was I to know that he would be so sweet about the whole situation?