The day before the holiday and nothing worse could have happened, not even in her wildest and scariest of night mares.  Car full of food and a sleeping eighteen month old strapped in the back seat to boot, Farrah Mallet sat on pins, steam emitting from her ears.  Drumming her restless fingertips against the steering wheel of her broken down seven-year-old Chevy Cavalier, Farrah decided that this just wasn't her day.  It was an hour to show time.  With the car packed with chafing pans lined with her love's labor lost inside each one, a fifteen minute drive to her destination seemed now like a hike across the Great Plains-impossible to meet in the time she was now allowed.

"I can do this..." she cried.  "I'm not going to lose it."  She stoked the flame of worry and turned the key once again.  The whisks and thunderous sounds of traffic blew past her idled vehicle, not a soul had come to her rescue.  She tried again.  Nothing.  The engine light came on two days prior.  The service man at Firestone told her on the scheduled maintenance check that it'd be an additional $89 just to inspect the engine.  An oil change and brakes was all they'd stiff her for on this visit.  She needed to restock her bank account with some much needed green-back before she could even consider allowing this hijack to take place.  She sighed in defeat, wishing now she'd coughed up the money.  At least now she'd be well on her way to serving gourmet smoked turkey sandwiches and baked potato soup to a crowd of her Delta soror's bridal shower.  "It could only happen to me!"  She cried, eying the chubby cheeked toddler resting peacefully while she winced at the onslaught of hell in her path.   

"Ok...where's my cell?"  She pressed the auto dial for her Platinum Towing plan at Triple A.  She closed the phone took a sip of air and checked her precious cargo, still sleeping--the only ram she could find is this flaming bush.  The baby boy dressed in denim overalls clinched his juice bottle in a death gripping hold while an oxygen cleansing breath escaped his sweet little face.   Precious.

Customer Service said twenty minutes, he was there in eighteen, but it felt like an hour.  Time was slipping by and Farrah wasn't in the mood for some condescension from this guy.  She watched as he pulled his shiny red and silver tow truck in front of her several feet away and then finally rolling it to a resting stop.    She pulled out her Platinum Card and placed it on the seat.  Dressed in her catering duds, her light brown and golden highlights were pulled into a neat bun at the base of her neck.  The first thing she noticed was the piercing blue eyes set deep in his dark tanned features.  A sexy five o'clock shadow framed his chiseled jaw.  The view got better the closer he drew.  Farrah checked the mirror and saw the worry in her eyes.  Her pulse raced and her heart nearly broke from her chest.   She turned the key and the power window lowered on the passenger side.  "Hi..."

"What seems to be the problem ma'am?"  His blue eyes sparkled as he spoke.

Oh hell no...this was her savior?  "Well...as it seems my car has stalled."  She stymied.   Farrah couldn't believe this genius was given the license to drive a simple tow truck.  Rolling her eyes, she braced herself for what intelligent question would come next.  He asked her to try once again.  She complied before throwing him an evil impatient glance.  Time wasn't on her side.  If she blew this premier there would be no chance of recovering which meant catering the wedding reception would be out of the question.  Her silent partner and sister Finola took the weekend off and was likely some where pulling slots in Vegas while she was bargaining with Lucifer for a pass and a rain check to hell.

"Ok...that's good."  It was then she noticed his badge wasn't sewn on like she had anticipated. He wore one of those 'Hello my name is' stickies that you buy at the Dollar Tree.  She was familiar.  After all this wasn't her first catering gig.

"Excuse me, but can I see some I.D.?"  Farrah fingered her keys for the longest sharpest one on the ring.  She wasn't going to ride with this serial killer unless she could confirm his identification with Triple A.

"I beg your pardon?"

---

She has the most beautiful brown eyes.  Dark and mysterious, and what a cute kid! The first thing I thought was where the hell is her man?  I'd never let my woman or the mother of my child sit on the I-94 where any serial killer could come snag.  By the way, I don't have kids.  Not yet.  Still looking for that special some one and I'm remaining hopeful.  You never know where you'll find love. 

This wasn't my day.  First off I had three guys call in.  I'm usually not working on Sunday's but as the owner of any establishment, you must pull as well as push.  I don't hate it.  But my work shirts are at Cintas and they won't be delivered until 7 a.m. in the morning.   I should've just let this call roll to the next guy.  But if there's one thing that I love more than making money and that is the satisfaction of knowing I've helped some one out of a traffic jam.

And by the way where are manners these days?  You can't tell me that someone didn't see her.  Hell I can see her.  The moment I jumped out of the cab I could see those brown eyes, large and expressive.  She looks pissed so I won't keep her waiting.  Snap.  She's got a little Shorty in the back seat.  He's a good looking kid too.  Does this mean she's single?

---

"Before you ask, the tank is full."  Farrah growled.

He laughed and licked his lips.  They did look tasty.  "Ok...well can you try to start your car Ma'am?"  He softened to the sight of an unshaken toddler.

Tried if she may, she was afraid.  Her car had never let her down before.  And the first thing that came to her mind was call her mother.  Her father would come quickly and her brother would too.  The only problem was both of them were out of town.   Mr. Mallet was in Europe on a tour and junior left two weeks ago for Morehouse to begin his freshman year with a full-ride scholarship.  He usually kept little man company when her sitter was unavailable.  All she could think of was definitely not Mom! 

Farrah fired the engine again humoring the genius.  Nothing again.  She wanted to just yell at him for wasting time which was running away from her one minute at a time.  His piercing blue eyes deeply set in a fan of dark lashes twitched one last time, and Farrah knew he was thinking she was a helpless twit who couldn't manage parenting and keeping her car regularly serviced.  Goodness he had beautiful teeth too.

Farrah was the oldest of three.  Her mom Jessyca and dad Frederick had divorced several years ago, though they remained unified for the sake of the children.  Farrah was always daddy's girl, his first born, and would forever be.  But Jessyca wore disappointment like a grey cloudy overcast.   Knowing her pride, the oldest and 4.0 student was dropping out of college, pregnant by some fool chasing Hoop Dreams, was to her detriment.  Farrah loved cooking more than she loved Jerry.  So when he declared them over with a cheap tart tugging his jock strap, she held her head high and decided now was the time for some real decisions to be made.  With a loan from her dad she started her own catering business in the condo her parents once used as a rental property.  Her sister Finola, just ten months her junior moved back home as well when Farrah closed up shop at Spellman.   Finola now attended school at Wayne State as a transfer student part time while she back bones her sister's dream.  They were always close growing up, more like twins.

Confirming he was 'Sammy', though his driver's license said Salvatore Santi, she went forward into the deep abyss with the cocky hot tow guy.  He walked back to the tow truck, lowered the bed.  The rising timbre of steel rod pistons and the onslaught of Sunday afternoon traffic still hadn't wakened her little man, if she could be so lucky to have the pleasure of curling up with a glass of wine.  Not likely.  The moment this little guy was awake she'd be in multiplicity mode, split between serving food and keeping him entertained.  Sleep wasn't a luxury she could afford for at least four hours.  Sammy motioned for her to exit the vehicle.

"I have food in the trunk!"  She yelled over the noisy clatterings.

"What?"  He folded his ear forward to hear.  No use.  The choir of traffic was singing out of tune, and loud.  Farrah stuffed her Blackberry inside her catering jacket and climbed over the center console.  

"Jerk!"  She whispered low.

Jalin never moved an inch.  She hitched his diaper bag to her shoulder, closing the door to the front passenger side.  Her mother wouldn't hear of this if she knew her grandbaby was stranded.  Farrah could be stuck on the highway in five feet of snow, but Jessyca loved Jalin's seedy diapers.  He was Gemma's baby.  She'd find a way to parlay this inconvenience into getting Farrah to move back home where she'd have all of the modern conveniences of her independence minus her independence.  Hell no!  

Cradling her son in her arms, she weaved carefully through the angular hill, around her car and up to the Sal's Pointe Towing tow truck with shaky arms and a temperament bordering psychotic.  If she could just get a tow to the Fairchild's Bridal Shower, she'd be solid.  The money was too good to pass on and she wouldn't think of cancelling at this hour.  

---

"You'll need a car seat for him."  Sammy pitched over the thundering engine of his huge cab.  Her car now on a flat bed, food likely all over the trunk floor, and he has the nerve to give her grief about a car seat?

"Hang tight, I'll get it."  Sammy secured the chains underneath her car and stopped briefly to retrieve the toddler carrier.

"Thank you...Sam."  She quietly surrendered the bitch mood, a little.  "I'm sorry for being rude."

"It's ok...I understand.  Are you having it serviced at this address?"

"Oh, no...gawd no!"  She glimpsed up from fastening Jalin in his car seat.  "I have work today.  This piece of shit is going to have to wait until Monday."  She cursed its failure of a promise never to stall.  

He reached over her right shoulder, pulling the seat belt across and locked it with a click.  Suddenly the intrusion wasn't deniable since it gave her a hint of his Burberry cologne.  

"Well, here's my card.  We service vehicles too.  I'm sure it's nothing too serious...sounds like it's not getting gas.   Have you been having trouble with it lately?"

"I just had this car in three days ago.  I told the guy the engine light was stuck.  He wanted to charge me $89 to look at the engine...whatever!"  She huffed.  Smiling softly at the sleeping baby boy, she prayed he'd be this good in the next half hour and wouldn't force the Fairchild's to throw her and her brat out of their backyard, with a bill that would cancel any purse she expected.

"Well, I happen to know the owner.  He does great work.  I get my car serviced there all the time."   He smirked suspiciously and gave a wink that fell unnoticed. He was sexy as all get up but Farrah knew that she wasn't about to take the chances on a mechanic she didn't know.  Firestone was her personal pimp and had been for two years now.  She wouldn't dream of changing up.

"Sure...whatever!"  She winced.  He seemed like a sane person, but she didn't give a shit about that car right now.  A bigger fish was aimed for the fryer, or rather smoked turkey sandwiches.  "I'm sorry...but right now...I'm really not listening...and it's not you.  This day is half over...but really hasn't begun for me yet, though it's about to be toilet flush I'm sure."

"It's ok.  I understand.  What two streets are you between?"  Sammy slammed his driver side door and re-fired the engine of his truck.  

"Marsten and Bayliss"  Farrah replied.  "Take the freeway to the 11 Mile Road exit."  

"So are you a caterer?"  He asked.  It wasn't small talk; he was simply taking the liberty of getting to know her while keeping her mind softened to the worries that had hijacked them. Her white catering jacket may have been seated past her waist, still Sammy could see the arch of her hips and the tuft curves of her butt.  She was pretty and obviously on spot with her goals despite the dead hands she'd been dealt.

"No one you can call?"  He asked pulling the truck into the traffic, eying the road making strategic glimpses quickly in and out of his side view mirror and over his left shoulder and then back to the road again. He knew this part of the state well.  As a tow driver, you needed to.  People paid for mileage that went over their basic tow plan.  Those who didn't have one, well they expected the driver to take the long road and milk them for mileage.  Sammy believed in working with his patrons.  The last thing a person should have to worry about is paying tow on top of repairs.

"No...it's just me."   Farrah sighed, stroking her fingers over her multi-hued mane smoothing loose strands if there was any.  She had nothing to be ashamed of.  Her baby was worth every second she slaved over the hot stove.  At least the condo had a kitchen that could be put to good use.

Half way through the travel he was more on the side of helping her than he was the moment he saw the depressive stare robbing her features and aging her rapidly.  He dared not ask her age and wasn't concerned to say the least.  He hoped pride wasn't a strong suit she wore like the sexy way that plain black and white uniform hugged her hips.

---

His thick arcs couldn't be hidden though they were shrouded in his light blue uniform shirt. She could plainly see now he had no idea the plots she toiled as a single parent of a young boy whose father loved and adored her until she announced the rabbit had died.  He might as well have died too, since he dropped out of sight and into some new pussy seconds after she told him she was pregnant.  It's been hard.  But she wanted her baby.  Everyone told her it would be hard.  Her parents supported her decision, but her mom Jessyca made it clear to her that she was done raising children.  Retirement was in her mom's horizon, a single life in full bloom.  If her ex-husband, (Farrah's dad) had his way she'd have been raising his illegitimate oopsies.  But the moment they saw Jalin's cute chubby face for the first time, every speech and preach quickly dissipated.  They couldn't be more in love than they were the day their first born, Farrah came screaming into the world.

The drive was bumpy.  His cologne was stifling.  But he tried to make the ride as comfortable as he could, even turned the radio up to melt the thick silence that filled the space.  He could tell she wasn't in the mood for small talk and he left her to her thoughts.  He wasn't averse to helping out when he could, which was why he optioned her to having her car serviced with one he knew all too well.

"Here we are...15410 Gloucester Ave."  He pulled to the side of the road.  A tree lined neighborhood that held the flavor of old century revival.

Farrah heaved a sigh.  She wished she could afford the luxury of a sitter at this hour.  But the daycare was closed for a Virus scare, this gig paid the bills.  She loved cooking, and never believed she'd really be doing this for a living.  It would take time to build a business and the last thing she was going to do was throw in her apron and suck down a crate of her mom's 'I told you so's'.  Nothing brought her more joy than creating culinary dishes that weren't just beautiful to look at but tasted heavenly.  Like the naysayers who warned her parenting would be hard without a husband, so did the same endearments come packed in pounds the day she struck out on her own and started this small modest catering business.  

It was hard work getting it up and running.  But one patron a week for two to three hours paid far better than any job she slaved her dream away in.  Her culinary skills afforded her the rent of the swanky townhouse-condo in suburbia, kept her kitchen and pantry stocked, and paid a handsome wage to her sister assistant and vacationing sous chef.  

"Thank you...Sam."  He handed her a slip to sign.  "I may need another tow in the morning.  I very well can't leave this heap of metal in front of this house.  In this neighborhood it'll be ticketed and impounded before morning."

"Call me.  I'll be around."  His smile gave her hope.

"You mean Triple A?"

"No, I mean me.  Oh, and the name is Sammy."   He held her gaze, then glanced in the way of the cargo he hoped wasn't jostled and strewn all over her trunk.  She didn't need another distraction or buzz kill.

"Excuse me...thank you Sammy."  She fractured a smile of her own.

"Why don't I do you a favor?   I'll take your car back to the shop, by the time you're finish, your chariot will be or should be back on the road."

"You really think your shop can have it fixed today...it's Sunday?"

"Well, I would guess three hours tops."

"Well...ok..." she spoke with reluctance but the sound was sweet and savory to the taste.  "I need to get some things from the trunk, but first I have to get him squared away."  She eyed Jalin with pride.  Sammy loved her smile.  He hoped he could keep it there on her face where it belonged.

"Do you need any help setting things up?"  He asked, ready and willing to be of any service she'd indulge him.  Her hands would be full enough once that handsome little guy awoke.

"Yeah...I do."  She sniffled.  "Thanks."  She was grateful and there was no denying she felt hopeless.  At least if she had her car by the time the last plate was served, she'd be in debt to this handsome prince.  A moment of peace embraced her before the thief of fear stole it away again.  How much was this going to cost?  She asked herself.  She prayed the purse of the gig would cover it.  She'd be back to where she started but at least her wheels would be back on the road again.

"Hey...it's looking up."  Sammy carried on as if war wasn't on coming. He had no idea.

"Yes...it is isn't it?"  She wiped a loose tear fast but the sniffles were evident that she was a little more disgusted with the delay.  The hour of grace had trimmed down to a mere ten minutes.  Sammy didn't want to delay her any further, so he helped her out of the truck's cab and down the steep steps.

"I'll get him for you.  You go ahead and get settled." 

Farrah couldn't believe the kindness and wanted to halt the effort.  But when she saw Meghan Fairchild, sister to the bride, pacing the driveway she welcomed his strength with open arms.

Sammy unhooked Jalin from the car seat.  The toddler was ever so comfortable in the man's arms.  He stirred slightly lifting his head and gave Sammy a warning look, glancing around for his Mommy.  When he saw her he giggled and laid his head back against its starting position, circling his chubby arms around the neck of the stranger holding him.

Farrah walked backwards bracing to take him if he burst in a cry.  Instead, he worked himself to a full wake as his Mommy walked alongside Sammy, who was faithfully carrying her most precious cargo in his strong arms.  Greeted by the bride's mother and maid of honor, Farrah anxiously beckoned her noble assistant to place the boy in the portable play bed, while she set up for the event. 

"I don't know how to thank you."  Farrah embraced Mrs. Fairchild thanking her for the unusual circumstances.  Farrah knew the family, but this was business.  The last thing she expected was that she'd be dragging her energetic eighteen month old in addition to serving dishes around a party of young women.  Mr. Fairchild was grumbling from moving four tables and twenty-five chairs a hundred different ways around the yard.

As Sammy watched her set up and fall into a haze of bliss he knew she was definitely at home in the element.  He recognized the same gleam in her eye as the day he performed his first oil change.  Now he owned his own auto service center.

She thanked Sammy for all of his help. "You are welcomed.  Have fun.   And um...don't worry about your car."

"Thanks again..."  she smiled when Mr. Fairchild accepted keeping Jalin company, glad to be on this task instead of the busy work his daughter and wife supplicated him with.

---

If she could just see herself on the other side of this small inferno, all would be well.  Sammy was a savior.  She knew he was merely stretching his imagination with utterances of belief he could have her wheels rolling again-on a Sunday?  Yeah, right!  He must have been humoring her.

---

"Farrah these sandwiches are delicious!"

"Glad you liked them..."

"Take a seat honey.  You've been hopping all around.  And stop worrying about Jalin.  Look, he's having a blast.  So, was that your son's father Fair?"  Mrs. Fairchild had finally squeezed the question out that had been pinching at her cheek all afternoon. Two hours had passed and the late fall day was still promising sunshine.  Farrah had long since forgotten the event that delayed her getting to her destination on time.   She wasn't late by the clock's measurement, but she prided herself at being on time--at least a half hour to a full hour before show time.  The day wasn't so bad now after all.

Farrah couldn't sit and relax while Mr. Fairchild took sitting duties.  She heard her son's feverish laughter and knew he was having a ball.  Jalin was a good natured baby boy.  He loved people and despite how Farrah sheltered him, he was friendly, never meeting a stranger he didn't like.  The kid never had that well documented 'stranger anxiety'. 

"Oh...no he was just the driver roadside sent over."  Meghan nibbled her smoked turkey sandwich joining her mother and Farrah, listening to the reply as Farrah's eyes kept tabs on her son.  The festive games were a blast and the gifts were still unopened.  The gathering was very well planned but in the company of mostly family and close friends the pressure to push out an end-time wasn't at all necessary.

"Really, well he sure looked very comfortable carrying Jalin."  Mrs. Fairchild observed passively.  Her mental arithmetic was keeping score.  "Well, Fair, everything was fabulous!  You definitely have flair with food.  Do you think you could handle 200?"

"Oh my...are you serious...you really want me?"  Farrah pressed her hand to her chest.  The wedding was a month away which gave her two weeks to put together a team of eager assistants to make this reception zing!   "Thank you...thank you Mrs. Fairchild, again, for letting me bring Jalin!"   Farrah smiled graciously.

"Oh forget about it...I told you it was no problem.  I know how hard it is to find a sitter at short notice who won't try to stiff because you're at their mercy.  I'm just glad to be of assistance. And it sure is giving my husband some practice as a grandfather.  As you can see we can't wait until Meghan and Roger get started with a family.  I'm not getting any younger you know."

The day was getting better with every minute.  Farrah glanced up, trained over her shoulder and there was his smile.  She couldn't hide the squishy feeling inside that he was bringing more good news her way.

"Hi...looks like you were a hit!"  Sammy glanced around at the crowd of adoring fans and one all too eager blushing bride before resting his eyes on Farrah's face.  Her warm brown irises were far more beautiful relaxed than when stressed.  He couldn't believe he was about to disappoint her.

TBC