Stormy was lying. She'd always wanted kids. Especially a little girl – she could imagine picking wild flowers with her, making brightly-colored dresses, plaiting her hair and tying it up with luminous ribbons. They could skip and play with dolls and when she was older, she would teach her all about what life was really about, hold her hand when her heart was broken for the first time, and get giddy with excitement when they chose a pink wedding dress together. Actually, a boy would be good too – a muddy, naughty little boy she could catch frogs, build tree houses and play pirates with. A boy who would grow up to be a gentleman, and respect women and be the best dad possible to her grandchildren.
She'd thought about this a lot.
But the truth was, she would never dare to have kids. She was terrified of turning out just like her mom – or her dad, for that matter. They were both equally terrible. She didn't have a single example of good parenting in her life. Even her foster mom had been a total cow. She'd constantly accused Stormy of trying to seduce her fifty-year-old husband, when in fact it had been the other way around. He had a thing for young, pretty blonde girls who looked 'innocent and ethereal', those were the words he always used. Nothing hectic happened, except the odd inappropriate leg touch; but when it looked like he was going in for some boob action, she went out, dyed her hair bright green and got a nose ring, and he'd never touched her again. And then the look just kind of stuck. It had served her well over the years, keeping away people she didn't like – normally people like Marcus, although that wasn't working this time. Normally guys like him just saw a freak and didn't bother, which she preferred. Marcus's world was not one she was vaguely interested in being a part of.
But Marcus himself, without all that stuff that she so hated, was a different story. She had to wonder what he would be like in his natural habitat, though. Would she still like him if he were sitting across a boardroom table, throwing big legal words around, like 'objection' or 'sustained'? (She'd watched some legal dramas over the years, and could totally picture Marcus in a crisp suit, delivering some dramatic closing argument to the judge.) But the way he touched her back so protectively, and tenderly tucked the hair behind her ear, she craved that even more than the sex – and that was saying something.
She glanced over at him again and had to stop herself from resting her head on his shoulder. This was really all very confusing; they had gone from not liking each other, to not being able to keep their hands off each other sexually, to craving a very different type of touching...
***
Marcus always looked at women through the lens of "wife and mother" – that was what he was looking for, after all. Even if they weren't already dating but there was potential, he'd often make his decision to date a woman based on whether he thought she was "settle down" material. Why waste his time with someone if it was going to go nowhere? Why waste his time if it wasn't the right person? And of course, Stormy wasn't the right person – they were just too different.
But while Marcus was stuck in his head, contemplating such things, someone else was contemplating something, too. Something important, something potentially life-changing.
She'd left them alone for too long now. Far too long indeed.
It was time to intervene once more. To pull their strings and watch them dance once again to Her little beat. Oh, how these two opposites amused Her, and when this was all over, She was sure it would be Her best work to date.
So, no time to waste. They needed Her now. The moment was calling for it, and this was the most perfectly inopportune moment for a perfectly opportune disaster to strike once more...
It was time to stoke the fire, add some fuel to it and see if it would smoke...
Marcus suddenly felt the car shudder, and a large puff of white smoke came billowing out of the bonnet, accompanied by an incredibly disturbing sound that was reminiscent of cats wailing at night.
"Oh no, what's wrong with Sammy?" Stormy looked genuinely concerned for the car's wellbeing.
"Old piece of junk, that's what's wrong," Marcus muttered.
"Hey," Stormy turned to Marcus and started whispering. "You can't speak like that in front of her."
"That's ridiculous! A car doesn't have feelings!"
"No, but negative thoughts can be very destructive. It's been proven scientifically. If you shout angrily at water, the water molecules actually look ugly." Marcus turned and raised a brow. "I swear. Google it. It's true," Stormy cut off his response, predicting his usual skepticism.
"I will." And he absolutely intended to.
The smoke and sounds got even worse and the car started spluttering and shuddering. Marcus glanced at the dashboard and saw that the internal dials reflected dramatic overheating. Smoke was now pouring out of all the car's orifices, and Marcus was forced to slow down to a crawl.
"You're fucking kidding me," Marcus exclaimed loudly, banging the steering wheel as the car finally came to a very loud and shuddery stop. "Crap! This is just what we need." He looked at his watch – time was not on their side. They needed to be in Mombasa tonight so that they could leave on the only flight for Dubai first thing the next morning, and from there catch another plane to Prague if they were going to make the rehearsal dinner and the bachelor and bachelorette parties. At this rate, they weren't even going to make it to the wedding, especially since they were clearly in the middle of nowhere. He'd hardly seen a car pass them since the start of their journey, and a tow truck would probably take hours to reach them. They were completely stuck, by the look of it, and he did not have much faith in Sammy's spontaneous healing abilities.
"Hey, stop hitting Sammy!" Stormy pulled his hands off the steering wheel angrily. Marcus swung around, feeling highly irritated – he hated it when things didn't go according to plan, and having a car break down on them was definitely not part of his plan right now. "Seriously, Stormy! Seriously!"
He climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and walked over to the bonnet feeling pissed off as hell. He tried to open the bonnet, but it was too hot and the smoke almost choked him. "What a piece of shit!" he cursed in between coughs.
Stormy jumped out of the car. "I told you. Negative energy. That's why she's broken down."
"No Stormy, 'Sammy'," he gestured inverted commas around the name sarcastically, "has broken down because it's an old, crappy piece of crap from last century that probably hasn't had a service in years, or hasn't had its oil changed since the turn of the millennium."
Stormy gasped. She actually gasped as though she was really, truly shocked that he was saying this in front of the car. "He doesn't mean it, Sammy," she crooned, glancing over at the car and patting its roof. "Just give her a few minutes to cool down and she'll be okay again," she said, turning back to him.
Suddenly her upbeat positivity was irritating him. Her glass half-full attitude was rubbing him up the wrong way. "No, it won't. The engine has completely overheated and that smoke there is not a good sign. I actually know a thing or two about cars. Sammy is going nowhere anytime soon."
"You don't know she won't start again."
"No, Stormy, I do. Trust me. See that, smoke is even coming from underneath the car!" He bent down to look and coughed a few more times.
"Do you have to be so negative? Why don't we look on the bright side?" she berated him.
"Bright side? We're stuck on the side of an almost-deserted road with no traffic passing by, in the full blazing sun, and we are about to miss my cousin and your step-sister's wedding preparations and maybe even the actual wedding if we don't get going." Marcus wanted her to understand that some situations were just crap, and no amount of looking on the bright rainbow sunshine side of things would change that.
Stormy walked up to Marcus boldly and poked him in the chest with her finger. "That kind of attitude is going to get us nowhere. The rehearsal dinner isn't until tomorrow evening, and the wedding is the day after. We have time to figure this out. We'll make it."
"I hope so. Because we'll be cutting it very fine, especially if one more thing goes wrong. Which it probably will, considering the recent chain of events," Marcus said angrily.
"You stress way too much."
"And you stress way too little. Or stress about the wrong things – like cows having feelings and shit like that." Marcus was getting worked up now, and they had both taken a step closer to each other. Tension was building. So was something else.
"Your stressing is going to cause your chakras to –"
"If you say 'chakra' once more on this trip, I swear I'm going to, going to... I'm going to –"
"What?" You're going to what, Marcus?" Stormy had stepped all the way forward now and was waggling her angry little finger at him and that was all he needed –
He kissed her.
He just kissed her. He couldn't help it. He grabbed her by the waist and walked her backwards until she was pressed up against the side of the car. He shoved her back into it, hard. His mouth moved down her neck and Stormy threw her head back and let out a moan as he pushed her legs apart and collapsed between them. He grabbed one of her legs by the knee and pulled it up; she wrapped it around the back of him and dug her nails into his back. He went back up to her mouth and grabbed her behind the head with such force. With his free hand, he started pushing up her skirt and his fingers moved all the way up the inside of her thigh and then...
He stopped. He turned and walked away. As fast as he could.
***
Stormy's back was pressed up against the car and she was gasping for air as Marcus stopped and just walked away. Why was he walking away from her? What had just happened? What had she done wrong?
And then she realized: he was probably lying about that picture. He had been looking at his ex. He'd probably been thinking about her this whole time as he shoved her against the car, possibly even last night in the lift and against the bathroom wall too, and when he realized it wasn't her, he stopped. There was no other explanation for his behavior.
Well, screw him. Why did she even care? He was such a doofus. Stormy climbed back into the car and slammed the door hard. "Sorry, Sammy. I didn't mean to," she apologized, absently patting the dashboard. She adjusted the rearview mirror, and saw that Marcus had picked up his pace and was walking even further away. And even though he was far away, she could see that he was talking on his phone. She knew exactly who he was talking to.
Stormy didn't feel so good.