"Sounds good. I''ll be waiting," Vanessa texted back.
After the meeting, Henry had lunch in his office to clear his schedule for the afternoon. This was the first time Vanessa had ever asked him out, and he was determined not to bete.
He buzzed his assistant. "Order me a bouquet of roses. The best you can find."
At 1:45, Henry decided to leave early, wanting to be rxed and unhurried for their date. As he drove, enjoying the music, his good mood was abruptly shattered when he turned onto a street that was at aplete standstill. A long line of cars stretched out before him, and frustration immediately set in.
"What''s going on?" he muttered, ncing anxiously at the time.
He rolled down his window as a police officer on a motorcycle weaved through the traffic. "Officer, what''s the hold-up?"
"There''s been a rear-end collision up ahead with injuries," the officer replied quickly. "We''re waiting on an ambnce. It''s going to be a while."
Henry''s frown deepened. It was already 1:50. At this rate, he would never make it. Thankfully, with the police directing traffic, the cars began to inch forward. Just then, a car tried to cut in front of him. Henry mmed on the elerator, blocking it. He was already on edge; there was no way he was letting anyone get ahead.
After crawling forward another three hundred meters, his patience worn thin, he saw the two crashed vehicles being moved to the side of the road, still partially blocking ane.
And then, his eyes fell on the curb.
Sitting by the side of the road, a young woman was pressing a hand to her forehead, blood seeping through her fingers. As she looked up, seemingly searching for the ambnce, her familiar face hit Henry like a physical blow.
The injured woman was Selma Quigley.
A ck SUV had rear-ended a white Bentley convertible, which in turn had bumped a sedan in front of it.
Henry''s heart plummeted. He mmed on the brakes, and the car behind him, not expecting the sudden stop, smashed into his rear bumper.
*CRUNCH!*
Another ident.
Henry threw the car in park and jumped out. The driver who had hit him braced himself, expecting a confrontation. But the young man from the sports car didn''t even nce his way. Instead, he ran across the road toward the injured woman. The sound of the second crash had startled Selma. She looked up and saw Henry getting out of his car, her shock quickly turning to relief as he rushed toward her.
"Henry," she said, getting to her feet.
"Are you okay? Where are you hurt?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.
Selma moved her hand, revealing a nasty gash on her temple that was still bleeding, the blood smearing down her cheek. It looked rming.
"I''m fine, it''s just a scrape. The ambnce should be here soon."
"You call this fine?" Henry took her by the wrist. "I''m taking you to the hospital."
As Selma took a step, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she stumbled, grabbing onto Henry''s arm. "I feel dizzy."
Without another word, Henry swept her up into his arms and carried her toward his car. The driver who bad hit him was waiting nervously. I''m so sorry, I really-"
"I''m not pressing charges," Henry said curtly. "Open the door for me."
Relieved, the driver quickly opened the passenger door. Selma''s eyes fell on the bouquet of red roses sitting on the seat. She struggled slightlyn Henrys arms. Henry don''t worry about me. You should go on your date."
Henry grabbed the flowers and tossed them into the back seat. "Don''t talk."
He got into the driver''s seat. The road ahead had cleared. He floored it, heading for the nearest hospital.
As Selma fastened her seatbelt, she noticed a small card on the floor. She picked
it up. It read, "Looking forward to every moment with you. Henry."
Just as she finished reading, a hand reached over from the driver''s seat and snatched the card from
her
Without looking at it, Henry tossed it
inth
the back with the flowers.
"You were on your way to a date with Miss Shannon, weren''t you?" Selma asked.
"No," Henry answered tly.
Just then, the car''s hands-free system rang, and Vanessa''s name shed across the screen.