Baxter and Libby

The door swung open and I stepped into the brightly lighted, tiled room that faced the two glass teller windows on the far side of the room. Like the last time I was here, only one of the windows had a rep in it. Even though it was only 8:30 on a Friday morning the line in front of me was already 10 people deep and I had a bad feeling that this was going to take all morning.

Standing in line at the customer service/payment window at the power company has never been something I looked forward to doing. It was always the same old shit after being out of the country for a year or so. Have to come down and reorder the hookup, pay the deposit fee in cash and then wait the day or so for them to get up to my cabin on the river and turn the damn power back on. Most people would have just called it in and used a credit card but due to the nature of my work, I prefer to remain as untraceable and as unknown as I can. I always pay in cash and have a couple of different IDs when needed.

It had been 14 months since I had been home and during the time I away I had decided that it would be my last tour. Hell, I am already 41 and have pushed the envelope enough times to know that I have been fortunate to make it this far. Six years with the Rangers and the last 15 with a private security firm that only practices over seas in high risk areas such as Sudan, Somalia, Iraq, and last Afghanistan have made me cautious and very private. It also provided me with enough money to last the rest of my life.

No the Ranger pay had not been that good, but the private sector pay and the retirement plan after 15 years had been damn good, real damn good. Hell it should be, there had only been a handful of guys that made it the full 15. Most were sidetracked by the money and left early and yeah quite a few of them never came back home. It was usually called an industrial accident or the always convenient car wreck that killed them. Their families were compensated well but the body was rarely returned for burial. Company policy was cremation on location and the remains sent home. At least some ashes, who the hell knows or gives a damn if it was the ashes from the actual body that were sent back.

Walking across the tiled floor the few feet to where the back of the line was I looked ahead and saw a blonde standing at the end. Her back was to me and like I had been trained so many years ago, and had practiced until it became natural to me, with a slight smile on my face, I took the time to access this situation in front of me.

It was early August and she was dressed for the hot weather. Being a leg man, my eyes quickly dropped down from her short blonde hair all the way to the red strapped sandals that she was wearing. Her ankles were slim and when I leaned a bit to the right, I could see her toe nails were painted red to match. Letting my eyes drift up I saw her nicely shaped calves below the white Capri cargo pants that she was wearing. Her ass was round, not very big and looked firm, like it was begging to be spanked, squeezed, and then stroked. Her bra straps were just visible through the sleeveless, thin, light blue, blouse she wore. It was tucked in tight and gave accented her flat belly and her hips. Her bare arms were tanned and toned. The blonde hair that I had first noticed was cut short. It was just above her shoulders. It was the same length all the way around and curled forward. From behind I figured she would be in her late twenties or very early thirties. Her style of dress convinced me she was not younger than that and more than likely married with a kid or two but the short hair was a look of an older woman.

Obviously she was a lady that took care to look her best even though she was only going to the damn public service department of the electric company.

The first few in the line were simply paying their bill and did not take long. The next guy in line was a new hook up and had to go through all the shit I was going to have to do. It took a while with him. As I watched the line moving slowly in front of me, I kept an eye on the blonde. Her body language was interesting. She shifted from side to side a lot, like she was nervous. The small hand bag she carried stayed clutched tightly under her left arm against her side. From time to time she would stand still and just stare down at the floor like she was in deep thought but only for a short time until looking back up and forward, checking the progress of the slow moving line. She never looked to either side or back around like someone that was bored would do, trying to find something or someone interesting to pass the time. No, she seemed to have plenty of thoughts on her mind to keep her busy.

She was third in line when the window on the right that was closed, opened up. Her head was down in one of her deep thoughts and she did not notice the clerk remove the closed window sign. I waited for a moment for her to move to the now open window but she was deep in thought.

As we stood there, a black guy, with his ball cap on sideways, wearing a white t shirt and baggy shorts that were threatening to fall down off his fat ass stepped out of the end of the line behind us and started toward the window. He was in his mid twenties, 6' and maybe 240#. He was about to pass us when I turned his way and held up my hand to stop him. He looked at me with a slight look of surprise and then a look of anger.

"What you doing stopping me? Can't you see the window is open?" He said belligerently.

"Yes, I see it is open. I also know that the people in front of you have been here longer." I told him.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw her head turned back to me as I continued, "You can wait your turn just like the rest of us."

He looked at my older face, my calm eyes while I held my hand pressed to his chest. My 6' 1" 180# was relaxed but in a flexed, ready position. My knees spread and my weight back, anticipating a move that I knew would probably not come but training had prepared me for. We held each others eyes for a long moment, letting the tension slip by before I turned a little, glanced at the blonde who was looking back at me and I nodded to her to step up to the open window.

After she moved over, I turned back to him, and calmly said, "I can see that your mother raised a gentleman, thanks for understanding the situation."

After a moment, "Damn right she did," he replied before moving to the side.

After lowering my hand, I stepped up to the window behind her. All eyes in the room had been on us but now everyone was splitting up into two equal lines behind both windows. The blonde turned back to me, she had pretty green eyes that were opened wide and I could see that she was troubled.

Quickly and very quietly she whispered, "Thank you," before turning to the window.

In the few seconds that I had seen her face I realized that I had been way off on her age. She was more like mid forties, but the rest still applied, she was very pretty and had a classy air and look about her and her tits were just as good as that sexy ass of hers that I had been admiring for the last half hour. They were not big, maybe even a little smallish for a lady of her size, but they were round, high and close together under the thin blue button up blouse she wore. The thought that they matched her perfectly went through my mind. Like the rest of her, I thought that they were not eye catching, more along the line of being conservative, hidden away a little, but still very enticing and desirable if you took the time to notice and I damn sure did.

She placed her purse up on the small ledge in front of the window and took out a couple of pieces of paper. When she did this, I got a good look at her left hand and was somewhat surprised not to see a big diamond wedding ring. The clerk took the paper that she offered and looked it over. I assumed that it was an address for a new hook up and was shocked when the clerk said, "This is way past due and to get reconnected you will have to pay the full past due amount, put down a $150.00 deposit and pay reconnect fee of 75.00. That will be $579.49."

She stammered something in reply that neither the clerk or I could understand and then I heard her ask in a very low, embarrassed voice, pleading, "Do I have to pay it all now or can I just get reconnected today and pay it all later on the next bill? I get a pay check Monday."

The older, very fat, ugly lady behind the counter snarled back with her answer of "Did you not hear what I said? This is already way past due and the full amount plus the other fees must be paid before service can began."

The blonde was silent and then she reached into her purse and took out a credit card. She handed it to the smirking clerk. Watching over her shoulder, we both watched as the clerk swiped the card in the machine and waited. It was just a short time before she handed it back.

"This card is no good" she said.

The cute blonde leaned forward and in a shaking voice, whispered, "Please try it again."

The clerk swiped it again with look of disgust on her face, held the card up in the air between them like it was offending her, waited a short time again and then sneered at the blonde.

"We do not take checks for late payments so do not try that. Get another card, pay cash or move on. There are others waiting to pay." She grumbled as she handed the card back.

Her hand was trembling as she took the card back with her left hand. The cash that she had for paying the reconnect was clutched in her right hand as she lowered her head and quickly pushed it along with the card into the small purse that was still sitting on the window ledge. Looking down she turned to leave and I could hear a very soft sob slip from her. She did not look up; embarrassed and defeated she stepped past me towards the door.

My mind was made up to find out more about this interesting woman. As she walked slowly towards the door in the front of the office, I turned and motioned for the guy behind me to take my place. She was just about to the glass entrance door when I reached past her and pushed it open for her. She looked up quickly with surprise and then back down but I saw tears in the corners of her green eyes during that short look.

After stepping out into the bright sun, she pulled down the dark sun glasses that were perched a top her pretty little head. She stood facing the parking lot, unaware that I had also stepped outside behind her.

"I heard what happened in there," I said to her.

She turned back to me and looked up at me. Her dark sunglasses gave her more courage hiding her tears of embarrassment but she was still sobbing a little.

It is not my way to ask, so I simply told her, "If you want help, I will help you."

I had to smile at her answer. It was broken by a couple of sobs before she could get it all the way out, "You are going to lose your place in line."

Her answer quickly told me that even though her day had been shit so far, she was still more concerned about me than herself. Or she had a very wicked sense of humor. Either way was good with me.

Smiling, I reached out and placed my hand on her upper right arm, my fingers circled gently but firmly around her bicep as I said, "There is something more important than that on my mind right now."

Her head turned to the side, she looked down at my hand on her upper arm but did not make a move to remove my hand before she took a deep breath and managed to ask with her voice still shaking, "Why would you want to help me."

I was still and did not answer right away. Looking down at her sweet face, with her dark glasses hiding her crying eyes, I saw tears that had leaked down her face. The reason that I wanted to help her was none of her concern at that point so I did not answer her question.

"All you need to know is that I can help. I asked if you wanted my help. You can say yes or you can say no. This is something that you have to decide for yourself."

I moved closer to her, so close that her round tits were almost touching me below my chest. She craned her neck to look up at me as she struggled to judge me, to make her decision. My face was expressionless as we both waited for her to decide.

She softly answered, "No thank you," and then looked down.

She did not move back or try and remove my hand from her upper arm. Her shoulders were shaking as she began to cry harder but I did not speak to her again. After a time, I slowly released her upper arm, stepped back and turned towards the entrance door. There was no reason for me to look back, she had made her decision. I pulled the door open and stepped inside. Just for the hell of it, I joined the line behind the black guy that I had spoken with before. He turned and looked back at me and smirked, "Looks like you in the back now."

It was an hour later before I had my turn in the line, filled out the paper work, paid my deposit and went back outside to where I had parked my plain white pick up. As I walked across the scorching hot paved parking lot in the bright sunlight, I heard a car door shut over to my left and a little behind me. My training took over, always be aware of your position and those around you, by habit I turned and looked towards the direction of the shutting car door and saw an older model Toyota Camry.

It was her, the cute blonde. She had her sun glasses down and was walking quickly towards me. A slight smile crossed my face, as it was obvious that she had waited for me. Her fast walk told me that she had made up her mind about wanting my help. Holding still, I made her come to me. Her tits were moving just a little under the tight blouse and I looked down at the v between her sexy legs, in the tight white Capri pants and felt my pulse race faster. She stopped just short of where I was standing and looked at my face again, trying to judge me before she spoke.

"Why would you help me?" She asked.

After shaking my head slowly from left to right two times as a sign of my disapproval at her question, I ignored it and answered her in a stern voice, "If you want my help, ask."

Her lips tightened, it was obvious that she was not used to being spoken to this way. It was also clear to me that it was hard for her to ask for help and that she was honest. A liar or dishonest person would have taken my offer of help without hesitation. They would have got what they could with no feeling of guilt or remorse at being in debt or dependent on me. I waited for her to answer.

She was uncomfortable, unsure, scared, not knowing if she could trust me and she hesitated before asking, "Please, will you help me?"

The word please was not needed, but I like the fact that she was willing to use it. She did not assume that it was a done deal just because she asked. She realized that I did not have to help her, that it would be my choice. I motioned for her to come closer to me, so close she had to raise her head to look up at my face. When she did, I looked down at her, smiled, and answered, "Yes, I said I would."

We stood looking at each other, both of us wondering if we had made the right decision. She was wondering if I was really going to help, scared of where if might lead and what I would ask for in return. I was thinking about how far I could take this and who else might get involved. I reached out, took her hand and pulled her the last step to me.

"First thing, that we are going to do is get some lunch. I have been standing in that line all morning long and I am hungry," I told her.

Gripping her hand tightly I pulled her the short distance to my truck, walked her around the front of it and opened the passenger door for her.

As I held the door I watched her pause for a moment, hesitating about getting into my truck, worrying about getting a ride from a stranger but instead of answering her fears, I told her, "I know you are short on money, so you know I am not going to rob you. You pick the place, I am buying. I am just a new friend taking you out for lunch."

My words seemed to relax her a bit and she reached up, took a grip of the hand hold above the door and pulled herself up and in the truck. I watched her slid across the bench seat away from the door before giving her a slight nod of approval and shutting the door behind her.

After getting in and shutting the door behind me, I turned to her before putting the key in the switch and said, "Not only am I hungry but by the time we get back, the rest of those that were in the lines when you were, will have left. "

I knew that she would have been embarrassed to have to go back in again with those that had heard and seen what happened before. She gave me a small smile of thanks and I started the truck. After pulling out of the lot and onto the main road, I stuck my right hand across to her.

"Baxter, call me Baxter."

After looking down at my extended hand, she reached across her body with her right hand and took mine as she said, "Elizabeth Miller."

"Nice to meet you Libby," I replied.

Her head cocked a little to the side and she said, "I have not been called Libby in years."

"It fits you better than Elizabeth to me. Elizabeth is either a 2 year old girl that has not got a nick name yet or an 80 year old woman that insists on being called her full name. No, I like Libby better. That is what I am going to call you."

Libby, looked at me, her dark eyes hidden by the sunglasses but I could tell what she was thinking. Here is a man that she has just met, taking her to lunch, ignoring the name she gave him, giving her a nickname already and not even bothering to ask her if it was okay. She looked away and out the front windshield without speaking, her mind was a jumble of the same thoughts that she must have been having while waiting for me. Will he help me? Why would he help me? What will he want in return? Is it safe to be with him? What else can I do? Damn, how did it get like this so quickly?

We turned onto the main road and with her right hand she pointed to a Denny's that was only two blocks away and asked, "Would that Denny's be okay with you?"

I turned in her direction, again taking in the pleasing site of her pretty face and alluring body, while I nodded my head in agreement and said, "Yes Libby, Denny's will be fine with me."

We could have easily walked there and if she had really had it been thinking of eating there for lunch she would have said so before getting in the truck. No, I knew she was trying to get this over with a fast as she could, still afraid of being alone with me and that is why she picked the first place we came to. Hell it did not matter to me where we ate, I was hungry and the last 14 months the food had not always been good.

When we pulled into the parking lot of the Denny's I held up the palm of my hand for her to wait before getting out. I walked around the truck and again got the door for Libby. This time I was greeted by a slight smile. After shutting the door behind her, I placed my hand in the small of her back and escorted to the glass entrance doors. This time she stopped in front of the door for me to open it for her and I did before returning my hand to the small of her back.

We were given a booth along the front window. I stood as Libby took a seat on the bench seat on the right side. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, I took a seat beside her on the same side. I could feel the tension in the air as she moved over towards the corner of the booth. I left my right arm across the back of the booth, well above her shoulders, not touching but she knew it was there. The waitress came over and took our drink orders. After telling her a diet coke, Libby sat still, staring straight ahead, her fears of what I might want, returning quickly.

We were both silent until after the waitress came back with our drinks and took our food order. After she left, I asked Libby the obvious questions about how long she had her power cut off, why she could not pay, and why did she not have anyone else to help her. My questions were direct and to the point and I explained that it was to determine if she really needed my help or if she was trying to run a scam on me. The questions put her on the defensive, no longer was she thinking that I was doing it to get something from her, but that I was willing to help her only if she truly needed it.