Page 13 of Fake It For Glory

JENSEN

Ifelt like such a jackass. No matter how cool I thought I was, stupid shit like this always put me right back into my gawky fourteen-year-old self. I was the dork. The goofy, clumsy kid that people called Gumby. I felt more like a Jerry Lewis character—a throwback to my dad’s favorite old movies. I probably could have made a fortune playing the dumbass in films. I wouldn’t even have to try.

“Are you okay?” I asked again.

The poor woman had tears streaming down her face. Her mascara was running and the look of shock on her face was horrible. I felt so, so, so bad. Her eyes locked on mine. She probably hated me. I would hate me if someone knocked me on my ass.

“Fine,” she muttered.

“I don’t see any blood,” I said as if that was a good thing.

She was still staring at me, which made me very nervous. I had a recognizable face. She was probably counting the dollars in her head. She was going to sue the shit out of me. I supposed she had every right to. I had just bowled her over and probably gave her two black eyes.

“Can I touch it?” I asked.

“What?”

“I want to see if there’s a bump,” I explained. “Just to see if it might be broken.”

“Broken?” Her eyes widened.

“No.” I shook my head. “I don’t think it is. I mean, I’m not a doctor but it doesn’t look broken. It’s not crooked or anything.”

I realized I was talking myself into a bigger hole. I needed to shut up instead of giving her more ideas on what to sue me for.

“I’ll call an ambulance,” I blurted out. “I’ll of course cover the bills. Whatever it takes.”

“I don’t need an ambulance.”

“Are you going to sue me?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.

“What? Why?”

“Because I assaulted you.” If my attorney was here, he would kick my ass for being such a dipshit. I may as well open the checkbook and write her a check. I didn’t need to be in front of a judge or jury. I was very capable of convicting myself.

“I’m not going to sue you,” she said, sighing.

That was a huge relief. Assuming she was serious. Now that it appeared she really was going to be okay, there was a little room to be irritated and skeptical. Maybe she had set me up. She purposely stood in front of the door to make me hit her.

“Why were you standing there?” I asked.

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes narrowed. “You mean standing in front of a door that I intended to open? I don’t know, maybe because I know of no other way to open a door other than to stand in front of it and open it!”

“How long were you standing there?”

“As long as it took to get nailed with the door you threw open! Who opens a door like that? Are you running from something? I didn’t see a rabid dog on your heels.”

I bit back a smile. She was a little on the feisty side. While she glared at me, I took a moment to get a good look at the woman I nearly knocked unconscious. She was very pretty in a very authentic sort of way. Her face was framed by soft curls and her skin glowed with a natural beauty. Her almond-shaped brown eyes sparkled with a contagious warmth. Full lips that were free of any lipstick were pressed together in a firm pout. She reached up and pushed one of the curls from her face while glaring at me.

The sparkly silver necklace she wore caught my eye. Technically, it wasn’t the necklace that caught my attention. It was where the necklace sat nestled between her very, very bountiful breasts. She took a deep breath, her chest swelling as she did.

I was such a man. I was looking at her boobs. I quickly put my attention back on her face, but it was too late. She saw me looking. I winced, knowing I was not winning any points with the woman. Before I could do anything else to make a complete ass of myself, Della appeared.

My meeting with Della had gone exactly as I expected it would. There was no way I was going to let her set me up on a blind date. I was on my way out the door to call Hattie and tell her it was not an option. There was no way I could pay someone to pretend to be my girlfriend. I was a little frustrated when I threw open the door. I should have been paying attention.

“Can I help?” Della offered.

The woman was in a vibrant purple dress with several thick, beaded necklaces. A silver belt hung low around her waist. A series of silver bracelets went up her left arm. The woman was not afraid to accessorize. It looked like she reached into her jewelry box and put on everything she could find.