Prompt: Lucky Break
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It was just my luck that my blow dryer chose today to stop working. After five additional minutes of towel drying my hair, I still managed to leave the house looking like a damp poodle. I'd later complete the guise when my hair puffed out and had to be tied into the bun that I should have settled for in the first place.
It could only be my luck that caused me to catch every single one of the six lights that sat between my neighborhood and the freeway entrance. This was the same freeway that just happened to have a road block set up an exit away from the one I needed, turning a ten mile drive into an hour long trip. This very freeway also contained two lovely drivers, lacking even an ounce of courtesy. One viciously cut me off without a blinker and the other almost forced me to miss my exit by not allowing me to change into the required lane.
Additionally, it had to be my luck that made me stumble on my hurried way out of the car, resulting in the spilling of my somehow still awfully hot coffee over my previously bright white blouse. A wiser person, with such clear misfortune, would know better than to ever wear that particular color. I was not wise or lucky.
After a fruitless attempt to wash the bitter bean from my top, I was forced to change into an extra of the company shirts we handed out for marketing purposes. The traffic had left me unable to attend the first of several meetings on my calendar. I also lost any chance to speak with my manager prior to an indefinite termed imprisonment behind her office door. By nine thirty, I'd forfeited all hope for a decent day.
Following rescheduling the missed meeting and praying that my improvised purchasing decisions without manager guidance were in good judgment, I scrambled to make up for the wasted hour and a half. I had a twelve o'clock lunch date with a potential supplier that I simply could not miss. I needed it to work out because nailing that contract would likely be the boost I needed into my long awaited promotion.
Alas, the moment I sat at my reserved table, in a far too fancy restaurant of the prospective merchant's choosing, I received an email on my blackberry informing me that he wouldn't be able to make it due to a family emergency. I'd been placed in anything but an ideal location, near the bistro's front door. So, while I was hungry because there'd been no time for breakfast, I opted to return to work early and continue catching up.
"Table for one, please," a pleasantly melodic voice requested. I could hardly even enjoy the sound of it, given my mood.
"I'm sorry, sir. There aren't any available tables. You'll have to wait at least forty-five minutes to be seated." I listened as the hostess explained capacity constraints to the lovely toned patron and decided to do for someone else what I couldn't seem to do for myself. I threw him a bone.
"I'm on my way out. He can have my table." I reached down to grab my purse without bothering to look over as I spoke.
"That's kind of you," he remarked.
I hopped up and collided with a warm wall of cloth covered muscle. An arm secured itself to my waist, preventing me from propelling backward. The resulting gasp of breath, from shock and impact, was draped in mint and honey. The scent weakened my knees and all of my weight was suddenly supported solely by him.
"Are you alright?" He propped me up but did not release me.
"Fine. Sorry. I'm a klutz. This is very typical." I finally looked up and met a pair of sour apple green eyes. His cotton candy lips curled at the edges and a thick bronze brow arched, playfully.
"Well, I'm glad to have prevented another catastrophe."
I was glad, too. Surprisingly, I was grateful for it all – every ill-fated occurrence that had lead me to this very moment. Even with knowing nothing about him, I was fairly confident that I'd been destined to land right here, in his arms.
"What a lucky break."