FanStory.com - Barefoot In The Rain Chap 2by Begin Again

SUMMARY OF CHAPTER 1....

The soft glow of holiday lights illuminated the streets as Kendra shoved the remaining letters, some unopened, into her desk drawer, muttering, "Tomorrow." Outside, the scent of roasted chestnuts wafted from a street vendor's cart, mingling with the crisp December air. She grabbed her umbrella, dodged the small puddles the drizzling rain left, and hurried out.

As she raced toward the station to catch the last train, her heel caught in a crevice, snapping off with a sharp crack. A glance at her watch told her she didn't have a second to waste. Slipping off her shoes, she stuffed them into her bag and sprinted, her breath clouding in the icy air. The rhythmic sound of the station's bell marked her desperation as she heard the conductor's final call.

Kendra moaned. The train doors were sliding closed.

Just as she was about to resign herself to missing it, a warm hand pulled her inside. She stumbled, barefoot and breathless, into the arms of a stranger.

"Thank you," she gasped, looking up into sparkling blue eyes set in a face framed by a mop of unruly brown hair.

He chuckled, glancing down at her feet. "Is this a new holiday trend?"

"Broken heel," she mumbled, her cheeks flushing red as she noticed the faint scent of pine needles on his coat.

"Festive," he teased, his grin lighting up like the Christmas displays in shop windows.

The warmth of his presence seemed to chase away the winter chill as they stood shoulder to shoulder. For the first time, Kendra found herself utterly speechless — a rarity for her.

As the train approached his stop, he turned, hesitating briefly. "Same time tomorrow?" he asked, his voice hopeful.

Kendra nodded, her heart skipping as the doors closed behind him. She didn't believe in love at first sight, but her heart hummed like a favorite song, and she whispered, "Please let him be there tomorrow."

******

CHAPTER 2

The following day, the city looked like a scene from a holiday card. Holiday wreaths adorned lampposts, and strands of garland stretched across shopfronts, glittering with frost. The rain from the previous evening had given way to a biting cold that seemed to sharpen every sound — the crunch of salted sidewalks underfoot, the occasional jingle of sleigh bells from a passing horse-drawn carriage, and the merry strains of carols drifting from a nearby bakery.

Kendra stood before her mirror, nervously twisting a scarf in her hands. The bold red scarf she'd chosen initially now felt too conspicuous. "Too festive?" she muttered, shaking her head as she swapped it for a cream-colored one. The softer hue matched her understated coat, and she gave herself a nod of approval.

"What are you doing?" Rachel, Kendra's best friend and roommate, stood in the doorway, scowling. "Did you change your outfit again?"

"Just my scarf," Kendra answered.

Rachel's right eyebrow raised as she shook her head. "When I came in here a few minutes ago, I believe you had on your pink cashmere. And look at all those clothes on the bed."

Kendra glanced toward the discarded outfits and shrugged. "Nothing feels right this morning."

"Is there something going on that your BFF should know? Are you meeting with the partners today? Oh my gosh, Kendra, you've been waiting for months for this. Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I'm not meeting with them — not yet, anyhow." Kendra sighed and adjusted the scarf, adding a tiny poinsettia pin at the neckline.

"Then what gives? You are never this undecided unless —" Rachel squealed, "O-M-G, girlfriend, it's a guy." She raced into the room, wrapped her arms around her best friend, and hugged her. "Who? When? I want to know everything."

Kendra laughed and playfully pushed her friend aside, checking her reflection in the mirror in case Rachel's exuberance had done any damage. "You are crazy. There is no man. Can't a girl just want to look nice?"

Kendra Abagail Winston! I've known you long enough to know you are hiding something. Mark my words, there's a man involved or one you hope will be involved."

With a smile so big it almost hurt, Kendra picked up her purse and briefcase, gave Rachel a peck on the cheek, and headed for the door. "Have a good day. I've got to hurry, or I'll miss the train."

As the door closed behind her, she could hear Rachel yelling, "There's a man involved. You are fooling me."

With a little extra bounce in her step, she hurried along the sidewalk toward the train station, humming a song.

The platform was alive with a flurry of activity when she reached the station. Commuters, bundled in scarves and mittens, huddled against the chill, their breaths visible in the icy air. A nearby Salvation Army volunteer rang a bell, the cheerful sound echoing against the stone walls of the station, blending with snippets of conversations and the hiss of steam from a food cart selling hot cider.

The platform's festive atmosphere did little to calm the butterflies in her stomach. Kendra's heart pounded as the train screeched to a halt, the metallic groan echoing through the station. As the doors slid open, she stepped inside, her pulse quickening. She scanned the faces eagerly, hope and apprehension mingling in her chest.

Left side — no.

Right side — no.

Center aisle — no.

Disappointment settled over her like a heavy blanket. Her morning high took a nosedive. The man with the sparkling blue eyes and unruly brown hair wasn't there, and the holiday sparkle around her seemed to mock her foolish optimism.

A gnawing sense of loss replaced the warmth of yesterday's encounter as if the holiday sparkle around her was mocking her foolish optimism. She slid into a seat by the window, her fingers brushing against the cold glass. Her reflection stared back at her, mirroring her frustration and self-doubt.

"Maybe he missed it," she whispered, her breath fogging the glass as she stared at the snow-dusted rooftops rushing past, her hope still flickering in the face of disappointment.

With each new stop, she craned her neck, scanning the boarding passengers. Every door chime brought a flicker of hope, only to extinguish as quickly as it had ignited. The dull ache in her chest consumed her by the time the train reached her destination.

Stepping off the train and into the bustling street, the crisp air stung her cheeks, the cheer of holiday decorations and wreaths doing little to lift her spirits. She trudged through the crowds, their bright chatter and laughter grating against her mood.

Having served happily as the building doorman for thirty years, Thomas Baker watched as Kendra approached, eager to greet her. With the usual morning paper in hand, he swung the door open with his right hand and offered the newspaper with his left. "Good morning, Kendra. You look lovely this morning. Those rosy cheeks become you."

Her usual cheerful spirit was gone, replaced by a sour-bah-humbug attitude. She took Thomas's newspaper, barely muttered a thank you, and entered the building.

Stunned by her out-of-character behavior, Thomas asked, "Are you okay? Is there something I can do for you?"

Thomas's worried voice wormed its way through the fog clouding her brain, and she stopped, realizing how rude she'd been. She returned to the gentle old man, touching his arm. "I'm sorry, Thomas. I guess I was lost in thought."

"So, unlike you." He chuckled, almost sounding like a jolly old Santa Claus. "Must be a man."

Kendra's eyes widened, and her cheeks were rosier than before. "No! No man," she stammered. "I'm just late for work, so I should hurry upstairs. Have a good day."

As she entered the elevator, Thomas Baker checked his watch and shook his head. Kendra was ten minutes early and hadn't stopped for her usual latte. He smiled and whispered, "Mark my words, that young lady's got man troubles."

*****

Kendra's assistant, Audrey, looked up from her desk as she entered the office. "Good morning, boss. I see you didn't stop for your usual. There's a fresh pot brewing. Would you like me to bring you a cup?"

Not in the mood for their usual morning chat, Kendra nodded and kept moving toward her office, leaving Audrey rolling her eyes.

The sight of her desk, adorned with tinsel and a tiny ceramic snowman, made Kendra pause. What had once felt festive now seemed to mock her. She sighed, sinking into her chair as her unspoken disappointment washed over her.

Audrey tapped on the door, entering with a mug of coffee. The steam swirled upward, filling the room with its aroma. "It's a peppermint blend for the holidays. I hope you like it."

Kendra accepted the mug and inhaled the scent. "It smells yummy. Thank you."

"Is everything alright?"

"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Kendra snapped, catching Audrey off-guard. She had never heard her boss use that tone. Immediately, Kendra realized what she'd done. "I'm sorry, Audrey. I guess I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, that's all." Her expression confirmed her words. She rubbed her temples. "Forgive me?"

"Of course. Everyone has those mornings — everyone except you, at least. It's none of my business, and I shouldn't have pried."

Kendra's voice softened. "We've worked together for five years, Audrey. You didn't pry." She sighed as those penetrating blue eyes flashed through her mind. "I'd hoped to see someone on the train this morning." Yesterday's scene played through her mind, and her thoughts drifted for a moment.

Audrey retreated to her desk with the triumphant glee of someone who had just unearthed office gossip gold. She resisted the urge to text her best friend with "Kendra's got a crush!!!" — barely." A smug smile crept across her face as she whispered, "It's about time."

At her desk, Kendra brushed away her thoughts and murmured, "Get a hold of yourself. You are not one of those lovesick women. You're a career woman." She chuckled. "Rachel must be wearing off on you."

She reached for her coffee, but even as she sipped, her mind wandered back to his smile, the sparkle in his eyes, and the lingering question — would she ever see him again?