Freddie's Find

It was definitely a typical Monday morning!

Winifred Sommers just barely managed to catch herself before she sprawled across the New York City pavement. Freddie, as she preferred to be called, had been certain that the door to the "dinner only" restaurant, adjacent to the classy motel, would be locked. She hoped to jiggle the door enough to catch the attention of some early hour employee. After all, it was only 10:00 in the morning. So she really put her weight into pulling on the door - and she had plenty of weight to use.

But the door wasn't locked and it opened immediately when she pulled on it. The resulting backlash of force nearly knocked Freddie down. The shock caused her to yell out loud and now several people were staring at her like she was crazy as they quickly walked past her on the street. With as much dignity as she could muster, Freddie reached for the door again. This time she managed to get inside without mishap - well, almost.

Freddie's eyes had barely adjusted to the light when she saw a huge stack of boxes flying through the air straight for her. Freddie only had time to reach up and cover herself with her hand before the stack came tumbling down around her.

When she heard the last box land, Freddie realized that she had shut her eyes in anticipation of being hit by the boxes. She heard a deep, masculine voice said, "Damn, damn, damn!" Freddie chanced opening her eyes and peered into the semi-darkness. Right in front of her, separated by a sea of boxes, stood one of the best looking delivery men she had ever seen. Freddie grimaced as she realized that her entry had probably been what had distracted him and caused him to trip. She smiled her best apologetic smile and bent to pick up the box closest to her.

"What do you think you are doing?" the man asked her irately.

Freddie rolled her eyes and then looked up at him. "Well, unless you think that you have these boxes so well trained that they will jump back into your arms, it looks like you could use some help carrying them. If you hadn't been trying to carry them all in one load, you wouldn't have spilled them all!"

The man's face contorted with annoyed shock as he stood looking down at the woman bent over picking up boxes. "If I hadn't . . . why, you . . . oh, forget it!" he bellowed.

Freddie just smiled sweetly up at him. "Maybe you would like to start picking up a few yourself? Then you can show me where you were trying to go. With my help, you might even make it there this time!"

Although he continued to snarl at her, he did begin picking up the boxes closest to him. They worked in silence until they had all of the boxes in their arms, then, without a word, the delivery guy started across the room toward a storage closet.

As she followed him, Freddie watched the man in front of her. He was tall, at least 6'3". And he filled out his height nicely. He certainly wasn't a lightweight. His dark hair and dark eyes seemed to glow in the soft light of the restaurant. His jeans hugged his backside with well worn loving care. Freddie noticed his cowboy boots and almost laughed out loud - yeah, he looked like he would be more at home on a horse than in a five star dining establishment. But with his looks, he could also easily be on the cover of a magazine.

Freddie sighed, knowing that this man wasn't very amused by her presence, let alone interested in her attraction. "And just for your information," he suddenly said, as though they had been having an ongoing conversation, "I wasn't trying to carry all of the boxes in one load. This happens to be my fifth and final trip!"

Freddie tried not to laugh at his exasperated tone. He was obviously sick and tired of carrying boxes and she hadn't made things any easier for him. She decided not to reply to his comment. She just strengthened her resolve to help him get the boxes put away.

When they entered the storeroom, the man went straight over to a set of shelves on the opposite wall. He dropped the boxes he was carrying in front of the wall unit and then began placing them in the appropriately marked spots. Freddie noticed that her boxes seemed to contain paper towels, so she moved over to put them on the correct shelves.

After they had worked together in silence for a few minutes, the man looked over at Freddie. "Look, I'm sorry about being so snappy. I'm just hot and tired. I don't mean to be a pain. What are you doing here, anyway? The restaurant doesn't open until 5:00." Freddie smiled over at the man. Even with the lines of exhaustion creasing his face, he was incredibly handsome.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I was hoping to get a job. I've just come into town and I thought I might stick around awhile if I could get some work. Of course, I didn't plan on making work for myself by causing you to drop all of these supplies. That was just an added bonus!" she answered teasingly. The man looked slightly taken aback, almost as though she had caused him to be wary of her.

"So what made you choose this place?" he asked.

Freddie gave a small laugh and grinned impishly, "Can you keep a secret?" The man looked at her like she was crazy. But she continued anyway, "Over at the motel where I'm staying, when I was checking in, there were two ladies over in the corner - you know the type - really dressed to the nines and full of themselves. They were discussing current and future male conquests. They mentioned several names that I've heard, like in the news and on TV, as having been their most recent dates. But then both of them started to really get hot and bothered when they began talking about this restaurant and motel. Apparently the owner of this place is just, well, to quote them, "to die for!" And neither one of them seemed to have been able to catch his eye. So, I figured that, being a good, red blooded American girl, I'd come check him out. Couldn't hurt, maybe I'd get a job and I'd get to see a real live hunk as well - at least according to my informants!"

The man rolled his eyes, "So do you plan on trying to 'catch' him, too?"

This time, Freddie laughed outright. "Yeah, right! That's the kind of man I would go for! Look at me. Do I look like the kind of woman who would turn that kind of man's head? No way."

The man just kept staring at Freddie. Although it wasn't in her nature to be so comfortable and open with a stranger, she decided to continue. "I'm just me, you know," she said. "I'm built like a Mack truck and only 'cute' on the best of days. Don't get me wrong - I will enjoy seeing Mr. Owner, but, honestly, that's not what I'm looking for in life. I would hate to date somebody like that. It would really get to me after awhile - all those women fawning all over him, them wondering what he sees in me and how I managed to snag him. I'm not up to that kind of critic."

The delivery man continued to stack up his boxes as he looked at her with a somewhat speculative look in his eyes. The silence became uncomfortable to Freddie, so she said, "So, do you know the owner?"

The man nodded his head, "Yeah, I've met him."

"Well???" Freddie said.

"Well, what?" the man asked.

"Well??? Is he really all that impressive? You know - is he drop dead gorgeous?"

This time, it was the man who laughed, "Lady, that's a loaded question, and I'm not about to answer it!"

Freddie joined in with his laughter, "You're right - dumb question to ask a guy."

The man stopped working with his boxes and put his hands on his hips. He pursed his lips together and looked as though he were contemplating something. Freddie noticed that he had quit moving and she looked over at him. "What's up?" she asked.

Although he looked uncomfortable, the man finally said, "Be honest with me here - isn't it really the guy's money that weirds you out? Or are you serious about worrying how you would look next to him?"

Freddie grimaced, "Sometimes I say what I'm thinking without considering how other people will hear it. I guess my logic does sound kinda weird to you, but I am serious about the looks - and I'm not fishing for compliments, either, if that's what you're thinking. I know what I look like. And I kinda like being me - short and stout - you know, like the little teapot in that kids nursery rhyme! It makes people more comfortable around me. They aren't always trying to impress me. Like the owner of this place. I doubt if anybody ever just acts normal around him. If those two ladies were any indication, I bet he hasn't been out on a date just for fun in a really long time. He has to constantly be wondering what the woman wants from him when he's out with her."

Freddie knew that was quiet some speech she had just given the delivery man. But he had asked. Freddie went back to stacking boxes as again the silence lengthened. Finally , she turned to face her companion, deciding to change the subject. "Do you know if the owner is here today?" she asked.

"Yeah, he's here," came the unenthusiastic reply, as the man turned away from her to face the shelves.

"Could you point me in the direction that you last saw him? Is he in his office?" Freddie asked, confused by the man's sudden sullenness.

"No, he's working on the inventory, and he's really busy," answered the man, in an offhanded fashion.

"Oh," Freddie said disappointedly. "Man, I was really hoping to talk to him about that job."

Freddie was just about ready to give up when the delivery guy said, "Look, I know it isn't what you had planned for your day, but I work here in the motel and restaurant. I have to go pick up some more supplies for this place and my assistant called in sick. I could use your help if you are interested. I can hire you for the day."

Freddie's face lit up like the Fourth of July! "I'd love to help you! I don't want to do anything until I talk to the owner of this place anyway, and I could sure use the cash. New York City isn't cheap!"

Of course, Freddie was also thinking about how much she would enjoy spending time with such a good looking guy. She had meant what she said about not being interested in dating guys who could do runway work as a model, but spending the afternoon with one sounded like fun. Especially when she had a job to do, so it wouldn't be like she was forcing herself on him. After all, he had asked her to help, not the other way around. Yeah, it sounded like a great idea!

The man stuck out his hand and said, "I'm King Griffin."

Freddie took his hand and said, "I'm Freddie." She noticed that he breathed a big sigh at her response and she wondered what that had been about. But before she had time to ask, King was turning off the lights in the closet and heading for the front door. Freddie had to practically run to keep up with him.

When they got outside, Freddie looked up and down the street. There wasn't a delivery truck anywhere to be seen. "So, do you ride your broom to make these deliveries?" she asked with a smile on her face.

When King threw back his head and laughed, Freddie almost choked on the air she was trying to breath. His face was so incredibly handsome when he smiled that it caused the air that was going into her lungs to clash with the air suddenly coming out of her lungs, resulting in the need to cough to cover up her reaction. Maybe this wasn't such a great idea.

But it was too late to change her mind, because King was already walking around the corner of the building and out of sight. Freddie hurried to follow him and the thought briefly crossed her mind that she hoped she wouldn't have to chace him all afternoon. She was brought up short when she entered the alley and saw King getting into an old pickup truck. Raising her voice, she yelled to him over the noise of the traffic, "A pickup? Where's your delivery truck?"

King just looked sheepish and smiled, motioning for her to get in. Well, it wasn't like it was the first pickup Freddie had ever been in, so shrugging her shoulders, she climbed into the passenger side.

King pulled into the New York traffic. Freddie sent up a quick prayer as a taxi cut them off with less than inches to spare, screeching to a halt at the curb in front of them. King didn't even look perplexed as he expertly wheeled the truck around the cab and continued down the road, as if that was how everyone drove. Freddie said, "You know, no matter how long I live here, I don't think I could ever get used to driving up here."

King glanced over at her before turning his attention back to the road. "Let me guess," he said, "North Carolina or Georgia?"

Freddie grinned in pride, "Is it that obvious? North Carolina."

"Well," King said, "the accent does give you away."

"So how about you?" Freddie asked.

It was King's turn to grin. "What do you think?" he asked.

"The drawl sure ain't New York!" Freddie responded. "Let's see," she continued, "maybe Texas?"

King looked at her and nodded, "Bingo! I'm impressed. I didn't think you Carolina girls had much ability to distinguish the different accents."

Freddie looked at him suspiciously. "Just how many of us 'Carolina' girls do you know?"

King laughed out loud then said, "Well, I might be from Texas, but I got my degree from N.C. State."

Freddie squealed in delight, "No kidding?!? So did I! I can't believe this. When were you there?"

King looked as though he were doing some quick mental math and said, "I was there from 1990 until 1995. I got my degree in engineering and hooked up with the guys from Red Hat. You ever heard of them?"

Freddie just shook her head in amusement, "Yeah, like everybody hasn't heard of Red Hat! Are you serious? How long did you work there? When did you move up here?"

The traffic seemed to suddenly get tricky and it took King several minutes before he answered. "Well, I stuck around until they went public then closed up shop and headed up here."

Freddie sensed that King wasn't telling her the whole story, but she wasn't sure she should pry into his personal life. She decided that she would let him know that she was interested and see if he wanted to talk anymore. "What was up here for you?" she asked.

Again, King looked over at her. This time, he seemed to be trying to ascertain her intentions. He apparently got the answer he was looking for. He said, "My mom died my last year at NC State. I had never known who my dad was. But on her deathbed, my mom decided to tell me. She gave me his name and told me that she had never told him about me. He had no idea he had a son. It took me several years to work up the courage to get in touch with him. Then I found out that not only did I have a dad, but I also had a brother and some other family, and they all really wanted to get to know me."

King continued, "It was hard at first for me to accept them, but I had to keep reminding myself that my dad hadn't known about me. He hadn't chosen to not be a part of my life. My mom had made that decision for him. Of course, as a married man, he shouldn't have been having an affair with my mom. He hadn't told her he was married and when she found out, she ran away. Only later did she realize she was pregnant. She decided that she would raise me on her own. She was a great mom. We lived on a ranch in Texas where she was the housekeeper. The rancher had three sons about my age. For all practical purposes, it was like living with an extended family. I didn't lack for anything. At least, not until Mom died. Then I realized how much I missed having a real family. It helped when my folks up here opened their lives up to me."

Freddie had remained silent throughout his story. He hadn't looked at her as he had shared his history and Freddie wondered if he was testing her to see what her response would be. Freddie decided that King wasn't the kind of man who would want sympathy or pity, not that she had really heard anything in his story that made her feel that way toward him. She decided to just go with what she was feeling rather than try to make up something she thought he would like to hear.

Freddie said, "You're really lucky to have the chance to get to know them. Do all of them still live here in New York?"

The look that King shot her told her that she had given the right response. He answered her, "My brother lives here. My dad has a home here, but he travels a lot. The rest of the group is around here, too." Freddie again felt like there was more that King wasn't saying, but she wasn't sure she wanted to take another chance on asking him just yet.

"So do you miss the South?" Freddie asked, changing the subject.

King seemed to understand and followed her train of thought. "Yeah, I loved it. But I love it here, too. Life's real different up here. So what's your story?"

For a moment, Freddie considered shrugging the question off, but King had just opened himself up to her and she felt that she owed him a response. "Well, I grew up in North Carolina - up in the mountains on a farm. My dad died while I was in high school and my mom died my first year in college. I had enough money to pay for two years of school, but then I had to work my way through. It took me a little longer - I ended up at State from 1994 until 2000, but I got my degree."

Freddie uttered a short laugh before she continued, "A lot of good that did me, though. I got a degree in Philosophy. Not a lot of jobs have the pre-requisite of a Philosophy degree! So, I decided to bring my degree and my five years of restaurant experience up here to the Big Apple and see what happens." Freddie knew she had just skimmed the surface of her past, but she was hoping it was enough.

Clearly, it wasn't. King shot Freddie a questioning look, "Tell me about your family."

Freddie really didn't want to talk about her family, but, again, King had shared with her about his. So, she took a deep breath and began, "My parents were - well, they were - aw, hell. I don't know. My dad was an abusive jerk and my mom did the best she could to keep the rest of us alive. It was a lousy way to grow up and I was glad to pack my bags and get out of there. I wanted to go somewhere where no body knew me, or my family. I wanted to get away from everything in my past. Of course, I found that the past goes with you, no matter where you go. But, at least I didn't have to live in it anymore. I was glad my dad was gone, but I missed my mom after she died. Her death severed my ties to my hometown, though. So I never have to feel a need to go back. Now, I can just keep going forward."

Freddie wasn't sure how she was expecting King to react, but she was relieved when he merely nodded and didn't say anything. A few minutes passed as they continued to drive through the city. Suddenly, King pointed out the window and said, "There's where we are going."

Freddie looked out the window and saw a sign designating the Bowling Green Farmer's Market. King said, "It's a greenmarket. That means that all the stuff here comes from local farmers. The project guarantees that I can buy fresh, local produce, and gives our small family farmers the opportunity to sell their stuff in a regulated environment. The greenmarket's goal is to support farmers and preserve farmland for the future. But I'm mostly interested because the produce and breads are the best around. Reach in the glove box there and pull out my list. Then, let's hit the stalls!"

Freddie climbed out of the truck and started toward the stalls. Each one was filled with things that made her mouth water. From tomatoes and corn fresh out of the field to breads and sweets fresh out of the kitchen, everything was tempting. Freddie handed King the list and began wandering through the market on her own. At one end, there were fresh wildflowers. After admiring them and complementing the lady running the booth, Freddie moved on. She stopped several times to talk to the vendors. She ended up getting free samples of several different fruits that were in season, and even bought a small bag of dried vegetable soup.