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not going to be
happy.
    “Speak,” Joe answered,
followed by a wheezy laugh.
    “Joe, it’s Rose.  Have you—”
    “Rosalita.  Hey man, didn’t
I see you the other day?”
    “No, Joe, it was this
afternoon.  Have you heard from Axton?  Or the man in the suit?  Did he come
back?”
    “Negative, Rosary.”  He
wheeze-laughed again and hung up. 
    The wind picked up to a gust
and the temperature dipped as I walked past the lighted parking lot toward my
car, which was parked on the street.  I had just thrust my hands into my jacket
pockets when a hand grabbed my arm and jerked me backward.  I yelped and struggled
to pull away.  Fear flooded my system.  The yelp became a scream.  I spun
around, finally yanking my arm out of my assailant’s grip. 
    Two good Samaritans hollered
from across the lot, a thin African-American guy with a backpack in one hand, a
cell phone in the other, and a woman in her forties wearing a baggy sweater
over a broomstick skirt.  They sprinted toward me, but my attacker didn’t flee. 
He just stood there, his hands raised in surrender.   
    “Are you okay, hon?”  The
woman’s gaze shifted between me and my assailant.
    “This man came out of
nowhere and grabbed me.”  I got a good look at him for the first time.  A
little over six feet with attractive bland features and clunky black glasses.  He
wore a white button-down and khakis. 
    “I’m sorry,” he said, “I
didn’t mean to scare you, but you’re Axton’s friend, right?”
    I glared at him.  “I don’t
know you.”
    “We’ve never met.  I just
started working with Axton in the IT department.  I’ve seen a picture of you on
his desk.  I’m Steve, by the way.  Steve Gunderson.”  He held out his hand.  I
didn’t shake it.
    I stood on the sidewalk, my
heart still pounding, my body still shaking from the sudden rush of
adrenaline.  “What the hell were you thinking?  You don’t accost people in a
dark parking lot.  Especially women you don’t know.”
    The guy with the cell phone
finally spoke.  “Are we good here or what?”
    I took a deep breath. 
“Yeah, I think there was a misunderstanding.”
    “I’m so sorry,” Steve said
to me.  He turned to the man and woman who’d come to my rescue.  “Sorry.  I
shouldn’t have touched her like that.  I just wasn’t thinking.”
    The woman jabbed her finger
at him. “You don’t grab women, period.  It’s not cool.”
    Steve nodded.  “You’re
right.  Will never happen again, I swear.” 
    “Thank you both,” I said.
    The man mumbled something as
he walked off and the woman gave Steve one last dirty look before leaving. 
    I turned to him.  “You
scared the crap out of me.”
    “I’m sorry.  I just don’t
know your name.”
     I was still irritated, but told
him anyway.  “It’s Rose.”
    He wrapped both hands around
the strap of his messenger bag.  “I’d been working late and was ready to go
home when I saw you.  What’s the deal with Ax?  Eric’s pissed that he didn’t
come in today.  We had a real problem with the servers being down and had to
reroute through a proxy server which filtered stuff out.”
    “I’m sorry?”  I had no idea
what he was talking about.  My lack of understanding—and interest—must have
shown on my face. 
    “I’m boring you, aren’t I? 
Yeah, my girlfriend never wanted to hear shop talk, either.  Well, my
ex-girlfriend, really.  We just broke up.”
    “Oh, sorry,” I said after an
awkward pause.
    “Thanks.”  He stared at me
for a moment.  “You know, you don’t really seem like Axton’s type.”  I think he
realized he might have insulted me, or Axton, or the both of us, so he tried to
backtrack.  “What I mean is—”
    I held up my hand to stop
him.  “I’m not Axton’s girlfriend.”
    “Oh, I thought…I mean he has
a picture of the two of you on his desk, so I just assumed…”
    “Axton’s my friend.”  I felt
a mixture of sadness and guilt