It was a calm spring day. Not a breath of wind blew. Except around Nyssa.
Nyssa hurried up the street, her long, curly, brown hair ruffled by a breeze that seemed to touch only her. She was running late for work, and she couldn't afford to be late again. Her manager had already told her she was on probation. But how was it Nyssa's fault if her car wouldn't start three days out of every five?
The wind stroked her hair. It escaped Nyssa's notice that no one else's hair was moving, that none of the leaves on the sickly trees sticking through the sidewalk stirred. She was too focused on getting to work on time, and was too used to feeling wind in her hair and against her skin. It never left her.
From the time Nyssa was a child, she'd loved the wind. Whether a light breeze or a hurricane, she had always wanted to be outside when the wind blew. Her parents had had to force her to stay inside during storms. And it seemed the wind loved Nyssa too, always touching and caressing her. Nyssa had never seen anything odd about it; she took it for granted just as she took air and sunshine.
Only fifty yards now to the office building. Without a break in her steps, Nyssa glanced at her watch. Three minutes. If the elevator cooperated, she would just make it to her office on the tenth floor.
But the brief glance at her watch was her downfall. Nyssa ran headlong into someone who stood still in the middle of the sidewalk. The impact made her drop her purse, which spilled its contents over the sidewalk. Tears of frustration came to her eyes. "Shit!"
The stranger grasped Nyssa's shoulders to steady her. "Are you all right?"
His voice was deep and calm, with an accent Nyssa couldn't place. His skin was tan; his hair and eyes so dark they were almost black. She caught her breath and had to look away; he was too gorgeous to look at for long. The wind around her picked up, brushing her cheeks, helping to calm her. She knelt and began to pick up her belongings. "I'm okay, thanks," she said to the man. "I'm sorry I ran into you. I should have been watching where I was going."
"No harm has been done." The man knelt beside her and handed her some of the items that had scattered. "I am unaccustomed to being in head-on collisions on the sidewalk, but it is made better by the privilege of gazing at you."
What a corny line! Nyssa couldn't help laughing. "Um, thanks, I think." She shoveled the rest of her things back into her purse and made sure the zipper was closed. "I appreciate the help picking up. I really have to get to work now; I'm late."
The man stood and extended his hand to Nyssa. She took it, and he helped her up. "I am sorry you must go so soon," he said. "I would have enjoyed spending time with you."
"I don't generally 'spend time' with someone I've just met," Nyssa replied. "I don't even know your name."
"I am Boreas. And you are?"
"Nyssa." Something about his name struck a chord in her. It was a name she knew, but couldn't place.
"Nyssa, it is my pleasure to meet you," Boreas said. "I understand your concern about strangers, but I would be honored to buy you dinner, or perhaps just coffee, when you have the time."
"Um, I don't know." Nyssa checked her watch again. "Oh, no! I'm really late. Look, Boreas, it was nice meeting you, and thanks for your help, but I really have to go." Without waiting for an answer, she ran. The wind, which had stopped without her awareness while she spoke to Boreas, played through her hair until she entered the building.
Nyssa flew out of the elevator and into her office at nine-twelve exactly, according to her watch. Twelve minutes late. It hadn't seemed to take that long to pick things up and talk to Boreas, but the watch didn't lie. And her manager wasn't pleased. He stood near the office door, arms crossed over his chest, a face like a thundercloud. "Nyssa, haven't we spoken about you being late so much?" he demanded.
"Yes, Mr. Horton. I'm sorry." Nyssa set her purse on her desk. "I ran into someone outside. I mean, literally. I dropped my purse and had to pick everything up. I'm sorry."
"Yes, you are. Come with me."
That wasn't good. Nyssa followed Mr. Horton into his office. He closed the door behind them and gestured to one of the chairs. "Take a seat, Miss Forbes."
Nyssa sat down. "I know I've been late a lot, Mr. Horton. I'm sorry. My car needs work; some mornings it starts and some it doesn't."
"I should be firing you right now." Mr. Horton stood uncomfortably close to her. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't."
"I'm good at my job," Nyssa said. "I do all the paperwork accurately, and the clients with whom I come in contact seem pleased with me. I do everything that's asked of me, and I do it well."
"And you're chronically late." Mr. Horton leaned even closer to her. "So you do everything that's asked, do you?"
"Within reason."
"Then maybe we can come to an agreement. I'll ignore your chronic lateness if you'll do a few favors for me."
"I think not. This is sexual harassment, Mr. Horton."
"I haven't mentioned sex at all, Miss Forbes." Horton put his hand on her thigh. "I haven't said a word that could be considered harassment. If you want to hang onto your job, you might want to think more carefully about what you're saying."
"I don't want this job that badly." Nyssa tried to stand, but Horton was too close to her. "Let me up, please."
"Is that really what you want?" Horton asked.
"Yes. Let me up!"
"If you leave this office now, you lose your job."
"That's fine with me."
"Well, it isn't with me."
Horton forced his mouth against Nyssa's. His hands were on her breasts, her thighs. Nyssa tried to push him away, but he was stronger than she. With his mouth on hers, she couldn't even scream. How far would he go?
Although they were inside, a wind began to blow. Neither Nyssa nor Horton noticed it at first, but the wind grew stronger until it was impossible to ignore. "What the hell?" Horton said.
Nyssa took a deep breath, ready to scream, but he clapped his hand over her mouth. "Don't you dare," he said.
"Let me up!"
The wind blew harder. Papers flew off Horton's desk. "This isn't possible!" Horton's eyes widened in fear. "What's going on?"
"Let her go."
The voice came from nowhere and everywhere. If it had been possible, Nyssa would have sworn it came from the wind itself. It was a calm voice, familiar and comforting though Nyssa couldn't place it. She relaxed, suddenly unafraid of what Horton might do to her.
Horton, on the other hand, seemed terrified. He stood and backed slowly away from Nyssa. "Who- who's there?" he asked, voice shaking.
No answer came, only a strong gust of wind that nearly knocked Horton off his feet. Taking advantage of it, Nyssa stood and hurried for the door. Horton tried to grab her, but another gust of wind pushed him back. "You're fired!" Horton howled above the wind.
"I quit!" Nyssa countered. "And I'll be filing a complaint."