I wanted our first date to end at midnight but he didn’t leave until 2. Minutes later, there was a hesitant knock at the door. “You may find this hard to believe,” he said sheepishly. “But my brakes have failed.” “Hm," I murmured, sleepy eyes narrowed. In the moonlight, the puddle under the car could have been a hastily-tossed dirty martini, but I swept suspicion aside. I would regret sending him to his death down the mountain without brakes. I’ll either live or be brutally murdered in my bed, I thought. Instead, I let him in and fell in love.
Jenny Neal is a writer and small business consultant living in the Catskill Mountains of Upstate New York. She is the founder of www.upstatedispatch.com.