Accepting Fate - (Slums to Riches, Book one)

Chapter 6

Taking slow, deep breaths did not help at all. Her tears refused to stop. She sat in the same place she met the handsome, anonymous, azure-eyed man two hours earlier. Her hands shook as she raised a page to her eyes. The big, red letters stamped across it blurred as more tears filled her eyes.

Passed. She passed.

Unlike when she had to write an exam at school or for her online courses, she was sure she would fail her driver's test. The paper in front of her, those bright red letters, called her a fool for doubting herself. She panicked at the test's start, but as soon as Ty's voice washed over her, her fears flew out the window and she remembered every step she learned during her driver's education lessons.

She should have known. If she could pass an exam to gain her chef's title, she could pass a silly driver's test. Even though she had not celebrated her sixteenth birthday yet, Mr. Hammond allowed her to do the test. She had to wait for her official license, but that seemed trivial compared to holding that page in her hand. She wanted that test behind her so she could concentrate on more important things, like saving for their future.

Thumping her fist on her knee, she straightened her spine and said, "Sobbing like a baby achieved nothing other than a pounding headache. Get a grip on yourself, Fletcher."

She scanned the path to ensure no one heard her, and then jogged towards the diner. She still had a long day ahead of her.

If her sensei watched her during the day, he would have scolded her severely.

She rounded the corner and, for the second time that day, flung her arms out, hoping to grab onto something, and saving herself from further embarrassment. Sharp yet strong fingers gripped her shoulders and set her on her feet.

"I am so sorry."

She recognized the voice before she looked up at his face. Shrugging out of his grip, she glared at the blond man from that morning. He just would not give up.

"I thought my sister made it clear. I am not going anywhere with you without a chaperone, and if you try to touch me, I will break your other ankle."

"My other..." He frowned at his feet and then suddenly chuckled. "Wow. You are the first to notice. It happened when I—"

"I don't care and definitely do not want to hear your sob-story. Nor do I want to hear about your wonderful scheme, which will supposedly make me rich in a few days. I don't have money, and unless you haven't noticed,"—She waved a hand at her red shirt and black slacks.—"I have to get back to work. Some of us have bills to pay, and don't give me your bullshit story about marrying you and never having to work again. I'm—"

Angelique gasped and stumbled to a stop as soon as his fist made contact with the wall, blocking her from sneaking by him. His spearmint-breath brushed over her face, but unlike the mystery man, it did nothing to her libido.

"I have no romantic interest in you. As for my proposal to Miss Spencer, it was sincere. However, I did not intend to spew the words in front of everyone, and in such a despicable way. And before you accuse me of being some kind of con-artist again, let me assure you I am trying to give you money, not take it from you. For the record, I do not trust pyramid schemes, because they only work if you pump a lot of money and time into them. Being a lawyer, my time is not my own."

Angelique did not cling to unknown yet deliciously attractive men. She did not ramble, and she definitely did not stutter. Yet she did all three on that day.

"I... You... I mean, uh... You're a lawyer?"

He took a step away from her and straightened his jacket, clearing his throat. "Forgive me. I did not mean to disconcert you. I can only attribute my lack of control to my failed attempts to speak with you in private. Amelia assured me if I spoke to you today, you would be more open to listening. It is very important."