Chapter 2
Since it’s Tuesday, I work from home. Tuesdays and Thursdays are my days to get my designs done. The opposite days, office days, are filled with meetings and lunches and sometimes too much “people time.” But every other day I get up, have my giant cup of coffee, throw on a T-shirt, my favorite cutoff sweats and work in my bare feet. When I started at Two-Shot Graphics, I set it up so I could work from home part of the time. I don’t need to work, I want to, and Two-Shot works perfectly.
My design space is a quiet retreat. I can come in here, shut the door and create. Currently, Two-Shot is responsible for the graphics on a large campaign for the album and tour of the hugely popular group, #coolNerd, fronted by songwriter-guitarist Sid Cooper. If my boys knew, they would freak. He’s one of their favorite artists. There’s a possibility of seeing him in concert when he comes to town. I won’t tell them until the job is over because I’d hate to disappoint them if it didn’t pan out. I hate to disappoint anyone. I hate to do anything wrong, even if unintentional. It’s that very quality that led me to Donovan.
“Oh my God, we narrowly avoided that ticket.” The police car pulled over the car behind me even though I clearly ran the red light, too.
I turned to the passenger seated next to me. “I’m going back.”
“Argh, Posey, you can’t go back. Besides, the cop is busy.” Drew, my boyfriend at the time, moaned loudly.
“Well, I’m just gonna… I’m just gonna stop and call the police department.”
“Really, Posey, most people run away from getting a ticket.”
“But, Drew, I need to do the right thing, and I clearly ran that light.”
“Whatever.” Drew huffed and started frantically swiping at the screen on his phone.
I pulled into a parking lot and called the City of St. Louis Police Department. I explained that I ran a red light at Kingshighway and Manchester and I wanted to tell the police officer I was sorry.
“Uh, uhm… really? Like, who does that?” the dispatcher stuttered.
“Me, I guess. I don’t like the feeling of being… wrong.”
“OK, one moment.” The phone went quiet before it clicked over.
“Hello? Hello?” I squeaked into the phone. “This is Posey…”
“This is Officer Garrett. How can I help you?” The dispatcher put me through to the actual police officer.
“Hi, I’m so sorry. We ran a red light at Kingshighway and Manchester, and… uhm… we’ll come back and pay, get the ticket. My name is Posey—”
“Spence,” the officer interjected.
“Yes, that’s right, Posey Spence. How did you know?”
“I ran your plates after you ran the red light.”
“Well, we’ll come back and pay because you snagged the guy behind us and not us.”
“Yeah, I had to choose between the two of you and he was closer. He ran it after you did, so he’s slightly guiltier. Don’t worry, he’s one of the hockey players for the Blues. He can afford the fine. Hell, his attorney will probably get the ticket thrown out. Just wondering why you keep saying ‘we’ and ‘us’?”
“There’s another person in the car with me.”
“Don’t involve me in this,” Drew complained loudly.
“Your boyfriend?” the officer asked.
I liked his deep, scratchy voice. I liked that he was curious about who I was with.
“Sorta,” I whispered. I didn’t know why I whispered. Drew wasn’t paying attention to me.
“Listen, Posey. We’ll let it go. Next time you’re in this part of town, drive more carefully.”
“Where are you?” I blurted out, thoughtlessly. I had an overwhelming desire to meet this polite, pardoning, rough-voiced man.
“What?”
“Where are you? I want to meet you. To thank you.”
“But you’re—”
“Yeah, I’m… in the parking lot of the donut shop by the intersection where I ran the light.” It was my turn to cut him off.
“For someone who ran a light, you didn’t get very far.”
“I felt bad.”
“Funny, most people feel victorious after getting out of a ticket.”
“Not me. I’m… different.”
“Clearly.”
“I’m a rule follower.”
“Posey?”
“Yes?”
“I’m parked next to you.”
I turned. There was a police cruiser right next to me. The officer in it was on the phone and he waved at me. He was a handsome ginger.
“Hi,” I said on the phone as I waved back in person.
“Why don’t you get out of your car and meet me by mine.”
“OK.”
I hung up and looked at Drew. “I’ll be right back.”
He threw his hands in the air. “Jesus, Pose. Really?”
“Yes, really. He was nice. I should thank him.” I checked my makeup and hair in the mirror before I hopped out of the car.
When I rounded the back of the cruiser, Officer Garrett was already out of his vehicle, standing with one hand on the door handle. For some reason, I was stopped in my tracks by his presence. He was tall, broad-chested with a strong jaw. He stepped forward until he was about a foot away from me.
“Hello, Posey,” He pulled off his mirrored aviators, slipped one of the earpieces into a hole in his shirt and locked me with his gaze. Then he took out his ticket book. “Can you confirm your address and phone number?”
I told him both automatically.
“So, you’re giving me a ticket?” I asked, a strange panicky sound infusing my voice.
“No, a verbal warning.” He took the ticket and put it in his breast pocket.
I released the breath I didn’t even know I was holding with a big sigh. “Thank you.”
He patted his breast pocket. “I’d like to call you, if that’s OK. I like that whole ‘rule follower’ thing.”
He wanted to call me? Yes, please! I nodded my head eagerly and he grinned. A huge, genuine grin.
When he handed me his card, his finger grazed mine. A flash of excitement moved through me. I read the card—Officer Donovan Garrett. City of St. Louis Police—and then I turned to go.
“You drive carefully, Posey. No more risk-taking.”
“Yes, Officer Garrett.” I looked at the card and then corrected myself, “Yes, Donovan.”
I love our origin story. Nobody ever believes I picked up him after a traffic violation. Donovan had said he knew I was special the minute I said I’d wanted to do the right thing. Maybe even loved me.
My cell phone chirps. Something or someone is always dragging me back from my memories. It’s a good thing, too. If they didn’t I’d probably live there. It’s where I’m happiest. And for that I feel terrible for my children, but it’s true.
The text is from my boss, Beckham. He’s just checking my progress. The initial artwork for #coolNerd is due Friday. I assure him it will be done. I haven’t even started.