Someone Like You

Chapter Three

With wobbly legs—heels and dirt do not mix—I make my way towards the station. After relieving myself, I enter the shop, eagerly awaiting air-conditioned coolness that sadly doesn't come. It must be the smallest petrol station I have ever seen. The man behind the counter peers curiously at me as I walk down the aisles, trying to find something that isn't greasy or looks like it's been sitting on the shelf three years past its expiry date.

After giving up looking through the small selection they have to offer, I settle with a water.

"Just this, thanks," I say as I slide it under the peeling glass barrier that separates the customer from the employee. It's so foggy that I can barely make the other person out when staring directly through it. "How far is it to get the Glendale from here?"

"30 minutes, or so."

"Oh my God," I mutter, glancing down at my red-bottom heels, almost laughing at my thought of being able to walk there. I tap my iPhone screen and see 'SOS' blinking in the top right-hand corner. "Can I call an Uber from here?"

He gives me a puzzled look. "We don't have that out here."

My mouth opens and closes a few times as his words process. "Oh. Umm... what taxi service do I call then?"

"You could try the Glendale taxi service but there's only one car and I believe Jimbo is on holidays."

"Who?"

"The taxi driver."

"You have one taxi driver? And he's on holidays?" I exclaim, my voice sounding panicked and shrill even to my own ears.

"Yeah," the man says, leaning his hip onto the counter. His shirt is so faded you can no longer reader what the logo on the breast says. "That's what I said."

Ignoring his comment, I pull up the number my brother called me on. "Can I use your phone, please?"

"It's out of order."

"Now you're just messing with me," I scowl, starting to lose whatever small patience I have.

Silently, he points to the archaic-looking telephone that looks straight out of a 1960's television show.

"What kind of outback nightmare is this?" I groan, snatching the water from the counter, sending him a withering look. "Thank you for your generosity and help."

He smiles—a sarcastic, shit-eating grin. "You're welcome. Have a nice day now."

Stomping out of the shop, I slam the door behind me, and glare down at my phone, hoping that my sheer force of will can magically reboot my phone with reception. I hold it up above my head, ignoring the numerous eyes that swivel in my direction as I squint up at the screen, begging for it to connect.

My shoulder roughly barges into something at the same time the heel of my shoe sinks into a sandy patch of dirt. With a yelp, I fall in a heap of limbs, my hair billowing around my face, and pain skittering up my ankle.

A shadow crosses over me, and a large, calloused hand hovers in front of my face. Reluctantly, I take it, the man easily pulling me to my feet. I stare down at my white miniskirt in dismay, seeing red and brown dirt sashed across it.

"Did it hurt?" the deep voice asks.

"What?" I snap, flicking my hair out of my eyes. "When I fell from Heaven? Is that really what you're going to say to me right now? God. I hate this stupid place! The dirt, the heat, the lack of reception, and the god damn asshole people who think they can treat me like shit because they can tell I'm not from here!"

Well, I am technically from around here, but that's beside the point.

The words burst out of me in an angry torrent, and I snap my gaze to the man in front of me. I jolt a little in surprise when I see one of the largest men I have ever seen. Not just a height that towers over my 5'5 frame with severity, but the width of his neck, chest, and arms. Every part of him was packed with delicious... I mean thick... muscle.