An Arrangement of Sorts Ch. 02

**I've used this sort of chapter ending before elsewhere and a while ago, but not here.

Whoa... Deja vu, writer's style. O_o

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Because he wanted to do a little grocery shopping, he loaded Honey into his truck on their third day together and took her to town to run in the park. Honey was an instant hit with the morning jogger crowd as she drew smiles and comments from just about anyone they met. Moreth was amazed.

He was on one knee, muttering to her that he hoped that her effort was at least sufficient for the next hour, since he'd only brought one bag to pick up after her when he noticed a woman sitting on a bench maybe a hundred feet off. She was holding onto a large paper cup of coffee from the diner nearby and seemed to be looking a little beyond the horizon.

He noted a few details automatically. She looked to be in her early thirties and was dressed a little out of place for the time of day, it still being early morning and the sun hadn't been up for long. She looked to him to be about ready to head in to the office, perhaps, or she might be waiting for her ride to show up. But then, that didn't fit, since she was too far from the street to make it likely. The way that she was dressed, she would have fit right in maybe five hours from now at lunch time, but at this time, she just stood out a little. He looked away and then looked again.

She had a nice face and slightly short blonde hair. Without meaning to at all, he compared her to Julie and saw that her figure was a little softer and less angular, but then, his ex had always been something of a predator and her figure just seemed to match that somehow. He knew that a person's build had little to do with their personality, but on Julie it had always been rather clear to him – well, at least once he'd figured it out maybe five years in, and after not having seen her for at least two.

It hit him then on the second look. She wasn't dressed anywhere near as trendy as he knew that the women around here and in any half-assed cosmopolitan place would. She seemed to be looking something like an apparition right out of maybe ten years ago and he wondered about that.

She hadn't noticed them at all yet and Moreth shook off his thoughts as he began to walk Honey away in silence. Within a minute, they were trotting and he was getting worked up for their run. He hoped that he could get the idea across that he would really like it if he might be allowed to set the pace.

They were on the way back when he recognized the bench where the woman had been sitting. There was no one on it now, and he decided against going another round with Honey today. He was nowhere near ready to pack it in just yet, but he remembered the vet's advice, so he slowed them down to a walk again. Once he had Honey into the truck, he was about to just drive home when he thought about grabbing a cup of coffee, so he headed there.

On his way in, he saw her at a table by a window. She was looking out at something a million miles away again and was oblivious to him. Other than the soft and gentle way that she seemed to appeal to him somehow, it was fine with him if she didn't notice him. He'd never been the type who'd needed to be noticed much. It sure hadn't gone well for anyone whenever he had been noticed, he thought, other than maybe his ex-wife.

What wasn't fine with him was the tear that he saw on her cheek for a second. She noticed it and wiped it away rather hurriedly and then looked through the window a little self-consciously to see if anyone might have been looking and maybe noticed it. Moreth looked down at his feet quickly as he stepped up onto the curb and made his way to the door of the place.

Aside from the woman working the counter and the man in the back who was just cleaning up after the morning's baking that had begun hours ago at about three-thirty, there was no one in the place but Moreth and the woman, he noticed as he walked to the counter.

"Hi," he heard the blonde say, just a little too loudly and with just a hint too much effort behind it. Moreth turned his head and nodded with a polite smile, "Good morning."

He had alarm bells going off all over the inside of his head in an instant, from just one look into her eyes from thirty feet away.

"Mornin' Hun," the woman behind the counter said, "What'll you have, Darlin'?"

"I think I'm going to need two large regular coffees, two butter croissants, and a toasted sesame seed bagel with herb and garlic cream cheese, please."

He shook his head a little, "It sounds really dumb if I say it like that, doesn't it?"

"That's ok, Gorgeous," the cheery woman laughed, "I understood it. Be 'bout a minute for the bagel."

He nodded and looked down as he fished in his little pouch for the cash. His mind wouldn't let him turn his attention away from the feel of the blonde's eyes as she looked at his back. He really hoped that he was wrong.

Joss Whitfield's stomach had been in knots since the day before. Right now, those knots almost burned as they tightened up a little more in fear and apprehension. It wouldn't hurt so much if there had been any food in her stomach. She didn't want to do this, she told herself, but she'd run out of options over a week ago, and her sense of desperation was driving her now. It was about all that she had left.

She just hoped that she didn't throw up again.

She watched his back from a rear three-quarter view. He seemed nice, she told herself. He didn't look rough or dirty and his clothes were clean. She'd have called him really good–looking if it weren't for what she needed to do in another few seconds. She tried to be ready while at the same time, trying not to think about it.

He was about six feet tall or a little under that, she guessed, clean-shaven, but with the shadow that showed her that he hadn't shaved yet today, and his beard looked to be about as short as his hair. She thought that she'd noticed the male pattern baldness right there at the front as he'd come in, but he was turned away from her now.

In a different place and time, she'd have allowed herself to admire his body a little. He looked to be dressed for jogging, and she guessed that since he was here, he must have already done that. He seemed to be built rather well, though in a way that said more to her about evenness, somehow. She had no explanation for that until it came to her that, if he'd been an athlete in college, maybe, she was sure that he'd have been a swimmer. There looked to be a lot of strength to him, but it seemed to be evenly distributed everywhere on him.

She saw that he had everything that he'd come in for and did her best to gather what little courage she might have had left. She knew that she had to force her voice a little because if she didn't, she was sure that she'd only be able to squeak at him at best.

But she didn't really get a chance to push her voice.

Before she knew it, he was sitting down across the table from her. Joss looked into the steel-gray eyes that regarded her evenly and thought that she might faint from the shock of it and the fear that she felt, and , ... her heart felt like it was about ready to just stop or maybe explode or something. She wanted to cry now.

She'd never met or known a man like this in her life. If she was 'looking', he'd have been only about a mile out of her league, the way that she figured it – and that would have been when she had something more of a life to play with. Right now, she had nothing left, and the irony was colder and more cruel than anything that she'd ever felt – other than the day almost a year ago when this had all started.

Moreth had planned to shake this up a bit. He wouldn't normally have done anything like this if it hadn't been for what he thought that he'd seen in her soft, blue eyes. From up this close, he was saddened to see that he'd been right on the money. He wanted to shake his head.

Joss saw those eyes soften a little as he smiled. "Please pardon me, but it looked to me like your coffee there is empty, so I thought that you might like another." He reached out his hand, "My name's Chris."

It sounded odd to her somehow. A name like Chris was alright and perfectly fine for a man as handsome as he was, and it suited him somehow, but there was something else, and she couldn't figure it for the moment. She liked the feel of his hand as she took it for just a second. She really wanted to hold it for a lot longer, since it felt as warm and friendly as the rest of him appeared to be.

"How did you know?" she asked, mystified.

He wanted to tell her that he'd noticed how light it seemed in her hand as she'd pretended to sip it, and he already knew that she was only doing that so that she might not be asked to either buy something else or leave.

"I just had the thought," he smiled, "I don't know how you take your coffee, but I've got a regular one for you and this croissant too, if you're hungry."

"Oh, no, " Joss shook her head with a smile as she said the lie, "I really couldn't."

The smile didn't waver. "Yes you could, I think, "he said as he pushed the croissant across in its little paper bag with a napkin on the top. "Aren't you going to tell me your name?"

"Joss," she smiled, a little uncertainly as he watched her eyes flit to the croissant momentarily. She couldn't help it and he knew it.

"Joss?" Moreth asked, twisting his head just a little with his smile going somewhere farther into friendly as he reached for one of the cups of coffee and pulled it out of the paper tray carefully while his other hand reached into his pouch.

"Well, it's Jocelyn," she said, wondering how he'd managed to get her real first name out of her when she'd really meant to give him something like Suzanne. Her stomach won out and she accepted the croissant. He knew that she would, and it told him that she likely hadn't eaten a full meal in a while. When he slid the cup across the table to her there was more than the cup in his hand.

"Um, please, "she hesitated, "I mean,... thank you for this, but , ... what I mean to say is, ..."

His smile almost disappeared, though it didn't quite leave altogether. It just grew a little softer, "Just take the coffee and we can think about it for a minute, Jocelyn, ok?"

She wondered if maybe he didn't like her enough for it, but the smile reappeared.

"Just take the coffee."

She reached for it and he saw her eyes open a little wider as her fingers felt both the top edge of his thumb as well as what he held against the cup under that thumb. She pulled the cup toward her and then she saw the twenty dollar bill there.

She was afraid that she'd burst into tears, but she didn't dare allow herself to, and just hung on, doing her best to hold it together.

She really wanted to cry now. She had to get this out right now or she knew that she never would. "I'm a little new at this, but, ... I, ... I need money and, ... I was wondering if you might want to, ..." she rolled her eyes and just said it. "If you've got another thirty on you do you think that you'd maybe like a little company?"

He smiled, trying to do his best to look like anything other than the type of man who would say yes, "I hear you. But I've got to tell you that you can't ask me things like that, ok? I'd rather just talk to you for a few minutes, if you don't mind."

She shook her head a little, "You – you're paying me just to talk to me?"

It made him laugh just a little, "I don't know. I guess there are people who make a pretty good living by getting other people to lie on couches in their offices and just talk to them, but I'm not one of them.

If you like the idea of me paying you for something, then if you wouldn't mind, I'd like it if you could just put the twenty in your pocket and walk over to the counter there and ask the lady for a packet of sweetener and bring it back here. I saw by your face when you sipped the coffee that you like two sugars, but I'm thinking that you ought to try it with sweetener. It's better for you like that."

"But, -" she was amazed to find where the conversation had gone so suddenly, "but I don't like sweetener."

"Well I figured that," he said, "that's why I'm paying you to drink it with sweetener."

She smiled a little in disbelief. "You want me to walk over there, and bring back a little bitty packet of sweetener, put it in my coffee and drink it like that? I don't get it."

Moreth leaned forward with a great deal of humor in his eyes, "Well," he whispered softly, "I'd just like to see you walk normally – not strut or do anything like that, just walk, if you don't mind."

He waggled his eyebrows a little, "You never know, maybe I might like to, you know, check you out a little."

She smirked and almost giggled, but she got to her feet and did as he asked. When she turned to come back to the table, she found him sitting with his chin on his palm, wearing a really nice smile. It made her laugh a little.

She sat down and leaned forward, "Did I do it right?"

"Perfect, "he smiled, really liking her soft curves. She wasn't tall or short or thin or large, she was just right down the middle and he liked that about her. She was nowhere near a model, but she had a lot of appeal to him. He guessed that if they were at a beach, she'd be fine with wearing anything – as long as she could tell herself that nobody was looking at her, but that if one man really stared, she'd probably want to run. "But you haven't put any into your coffee yet. You only need a little."

"Do I really have to?"

He wanted to burst out laughing. She had a look on her face that told him just how she'd looked as a child. "Only if you hate sweetener more than you need twenty dollars."

She looked at him and saw that his smile wasn't going anywhere. "What else do I have to do to keep the money?"

"What money?" he asked angelically.

"This is a bad place for me," he said, "and I can see that this is really hard for you to do. I can't really be seen talking to you like this if it's about something like what you were talking about."He grinned, "but it's fine if I'm here talking with a friend, Jocelyn."

"I don't understand," she said.

"Is there anything that you'd like to eat right here?" he asked her, "like say, a real breakfast? I know that there's not much to a croissant – at least to me there isn't. That's why I almost never eat them. I bought that one for you. I was going to eat the bagel myself, and the other croissant was to keep my dog busy while I hopefully got enough time to eat at least half the bagel before she gives me the big-eyed look in the truck."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked in a whisper, "Wouldn't you like to um, you know, uh, fuck or anything?"

The smile went to full brilliance and he laughed a little. Joss saw right away that he wasn't laughing at her and it made her smile because she just felt better somehow.

"You have no idea, Jocelyn. I'd absolutely love that, but not like this, not this way because you're broke and hungry. That would just be taking advantage of the new friend that I'm trying really hard to make. I just want to get you past being afraid of me and nervous and unhappy. You get a meal into you and things will look a little different, I hope, and I don't mind at all.

I'm happy to be talking to somebody as lovely as you. My girl out there in the truck isn't much for conversation, and she's about the only one I've been talking to the last three days. I love her, but as much as she tries to be human, she's a dog. Hell, I can't even get within about a half a foot from her face and she wants to french me."

It made Joss laugh, and she finally just nodded, "So I can keep the twenty and you'll buy us breakfast?"

He hadn't really been thinking about having one himself, but he nodded, "Sure," before he called the woman at the counter to ask to see their breakfast menus. "I don't know what you keep mentioning that for," he said, "I don't know anything about a twenty."

As they waited for their order, Moreth wanted to ask her how she'd gotten here, where she was now but he didn't. It didn't matter to him much anyhow, but he did ask her about one thing. "I'm from Virginia, originally," he said as he looked at her arms and noted that there were no marks there, "I've been down here in Louisiana for a little while now, and I've gotten used to how folks talk around here, but I don't hear that from you. You sound a little like you're from, ... Georgia, is it?"

Joss grinned at him in surprise, "How'd you know that? I'm from a town called Dalton."

"It just sounds like that to me," he said, noticing that her nails were clean and that she must have hated the thought of what she felt she had no choice in having to do, but she'd prepared herself as best she could regardless and it said something about her nature to him.

"I've always been a sucker for girls from the south, I just can't help it, not that it's ever gotten me anywhere, and you likely won't believe me, but I'm telling you, I could just sit and listen to a sweet Georgia accent all day long."

"Thank you," she smiled, a lot more freely, "for everything and for the compliment." She was beginning to think that this had to end pretty soon, but for now, she'd had her best morning in a very long time.

"It's ok," he smiled, "and I was very sincere about the way that you talk and about your offer earlier as well, but I think that it would be better if you could find another way, you know, without having to go where you seemed to struggle so hard to say."

He leaned forward a little and she could see that he was being pretty earnest. "You said that you're new to it, but you've never even done that before, have you?"

"No," she admitted sadly, and he knew that it wasn't from her inexperience at being street-wise, but from the way that she felt at having been driven to this point for a whole lot of reasons. She looked up and tried to put it under a layer of humor. "You'd be my first."

He thought that he could just see a tiny hint of hopefulness there.

He couldn't stand not knowing now. He knew this was hard for her, but sometimes you get a better mix out of the cereal box if you shake it up a little first. "If it's not a huge deal to you, how the hell did you get here?" he asked, "I really can't understand it when I look at you. Just circumstance or what? I'm not trying to be nosy, but you being here like this just makes no sense to me."

Joss looked as though she wanted to hit him for just a moment, but she just seemed to sag a little in her seat as she shrugged. "A whole lot of circumstances, I guess. My husband left me and I had trouble finding work, so before all of the little money that I had left got used up, I packed up and drove home, but my car died here and this is as close as I ever got, so far.

I don't really want to go home, since my folks don't have that much themselves, but it was about all that I could think of. I couldn't get any assistance, since I'd have needed to have worked here for the last year to qualify, so I've been working temp jobs at whatever factory the agency sent me to, but without a car, I can't get anywhere and –"

Moreth reached out and wrapped his hand over one of hers. "Stop, Jocelyn." He could see that there was a dam there that was about to burst. "Just hold on for a minute, ok?"She looked up and nodded a little.

Their breakfast arrived and it tossed them into silence for a minute or two before he spoke again.

"You were a homemaker?"

She nodded. "Yes, but –"

He shook his head, "Wait up a minute," he said, "Can you use a computer at all, like are you familiar with Microsoft Office or anything like that?"

She shrugged, "Sure, but the only jobs that I got sent out to were at factories, and there aren't very many of them anymore. I try to do what they tell me to, but most often, I just don't fit, they tell me. I don't usually get called back, and I can't get to any more, since I've got to walk to get there and I don't like walking at four in the morning to get to where I have to be at six, but I do it if they call me."