Coco's Bet

0:00 There are certain things you expect to happen when you leave your house before sunrise. You expect to question every decision that led you to being awake at 5 30 in the morning. You expect the streets to be mostly empty. You expect your coffee to do more emotional labor than any beverage should reasonably be asked to do.

0:25 What you do not expect is to get rear-ended by a drunk man who then gets out of his car and starts kicking yours. Yet, there I was. I'd gone into work early because we were running the first full production batch of a new protein snack, and our company president planned to stop by the facility later that morning.

0:49 As a product manager, I wanted to make sure everything looked perfect before he arrived. The ingredients were clean, the nutritional panel had survived approximately 4,000 revisions, and I had personally fought a six-week war over one preservative I refused to approve. I was feeling responsible, accomplished.

1:13 Then somebody slammed into the back of my car at a red light. The impact jerked me forward hard enough to make my seatbelt bite into my chest. For several seconds I just sat there, with my hands gripping the steering wheel while my brain tried to catch up. Then I heard yelling. The man behind me stumbled out of his car, and even through my closed windows I could tell something was wrong.

1:40 His movements were sloppy and angry. When I cracked my door and asked if he was okay, the smell of alcohol reached me before he did. He started shouting that I had stopped too fast at a red light. I told him I was calling the police. That was when he kicked my car. I don't know what he thought my car had done to him personally, but apparently he had grievances.

2:08 He kicked the rear door, then came toward me yelling louder. Every bit of bravery I thought I possessed disappeared. I jumped back inside, locked the doors, and called 911 with shaking hands. Then another car door slammed. A black Lexus had been behind us. A man stepped out wearing black athletic pants and a gray fitted t-shirt, looking like he had just left the gym.

2:37 He was tall, broad through the chest, okay, with dark hair and a neatly trimmed beard framing a face that was almost defensively handsome for that time of morning. He said something to the drunk man that I couldn't hear. Whatever it was did not improve the situation. The man swung at him. That turned out to be a very bad decision.

3:02 Everything happened fast. Mysterious gym man caught his arm, turned him, and somehow put him on the pavement with the efficiency of someone folding a fitted sheet who actually knew how to fold a fitted sheet. I stared through my windshield. Was this man? He held the guy there until he stopped fighting, then looked directly at me through the glass.

3:26 His entire expression changed. He pointed toward my door. Stay inside. Excuse me. I was grateful, extremely grateful. I was also forty three years old, and I had been managing my own life for quite some time. I did not particularly enjoy being ordered around by strange men in parking lots, even beautiful ones with chests that looked like they came out of the latest Marvel movie, but then the drunk man started struggling again.

3:59 I stayed inside. By the time the police arrived, my hands had stopped shaking, mostly. The officers separated everyone, took statements, and eventually put the man who hit me into the back of the patrol car. My rescuer stayed the entire time. His name was Zane. He was thirty five. I'd only learned that part because the officer asked him for his information while I was standing nearby.

4:27 Thirty-five. Somewhere in the universe I could practically hear Jaden screaming. Oh absolutely not. I had forgotten all about that ridiculous bet, and I intended to forget again immediately. Zane walked me back toward my car once the police finished with us. Up close, he was even more attractive. His skin was warm olive brown, his eyes nearly light brown beneath thick brows and long eyelashes, and there was a calm confidence about him that made it seem as though the entire morning had inconvenienced him rather than rattled him.

5:06 Are you sure you're okay to drive? There it was again, that tone. I straightened. I'm fine. His mouth twitched. I did not like that twitch. It suggested amusement. You were shaking ten minutes ago. I was just rear ended by a drunk lunatic. Exactly. I stared at him. He stared back. Then he took out his phone.

5:35 Give me your number. I almost laughed. Well that was smooth. His eyes pulled together. For the police, in case they need anything else from either of us. Oh I gave him my number. He called it so I would have his, then waited until I was safely inside my car before walking back to his Lexus. I should have driven away.

6:01 Instead, I watched him in my mirror. And I had the strangest thought. For once, when something went wrong, I hadn't been the one rescuing somebody. Somebody had rescued me. Zane called two days later. The police did not have questions. He did. He wanted to know if I was free for dinner Saturday. I stared at my phone for several seconds after we hung up.

6:30 Then I called Jaden. I told her about the incident the other morning. That was my first mistake. She freaked out and started screaming about lawsuits and all the drunk people in Vegas. I calmed her down and reassured her that Zane was helpful and I was fine. Zane, the man who knocked out the drunk guy?

6:51 What's his story? Her question led me to my second mistake. As I described Zane, I absentmindedly mentioned his age. Thirty five? I moved the phone away from my ear. Can you please act like you've had some home training? Coco! He's eight years younger than you. You're in the bet. I rolled my eyes. I completely forgotten about that stupid bet.

7:20 More accurately, I had deliberately forgotten about the bet. At brunch, I had agreed because champagne, peer pressure, and Jaden were a dangerous combination. I had no intention of seriously participating. I was on a dating break. I had a therapist. I had boundaries. I had books with highlighted passages about emotional availability.

7:45 I was healed, or healing, whatever. I did not need a thirty-five-year-old man complicating things. Unfortunately, Saturday changed all of that. At 7 15 my phone buzzed. My Uber Black had arrived. I frowned at the screen and called Zane. You sent me a car? Yes. I can drive. I know. I frowned. I wasn't used to this kind of behavior.

8:17 He wasn't rescuing me because he thought I couldn't do something. He simply wanted to do something for me. I had no idea what to do with that. When the car pulled up to the restaurant, Zane was already outside waiting. He opened my door and offered his hand, and I took it. His eyes moved over me slowly enough to make warmth climb my neck.

8:42 You look beautiful. That should not have affected me as much as it did. But it did. Dinner was easy. Conversation was easy. Zane owned a growing technology startup, which explained the Lexus and his complete lack of concern when I saw the prices on the menu. He was Arab American, raised in New York, and described himself as a perfect combination of westernized and traditional.

9:10 I told him that he sounded like one of those moms describing their child on those traditional matchmaking shows. He laughed, and I was surprised at how much I enjoyed the richness of that sound. Then he asked about my family, my work, and whether I had children. I didn't. When I explained what I did for a living, he became genuinely interested, asking questions about product development, sourcing, and why I could apparently identify seed oil from twenty feet away.

9:44 I liked him, and I wasn't sure what to do with that feeling. When the check came, I did what women do when we have no intention of paying, but we were raised with manners. I reached for my purse. Hazane's expression changed immediately. No. I froze. It was only one word quietly spoken, but somehow it filled the table.

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