Just a Click Away

Chapter 1

Leslie Martin's white Keds made a slight squeaking sound as she made her way up the wet, concrete steps to her apartment. A gentle rain fell on the cement, and seemed to wash away the cares of her busy work day. She loved rainy days; they invigorated her, and reminded her that even though she made mistakes, there was a fresh start every morning. Leslie fumbled at her door, trying to get the keys out of her brown, leather handbag. This was not an easy task, since both arms were laden with grocery sacks. Leslie was not a girl to make two trips to the car, nor was she a girl to remember to get her keys ready before she arrived at the door. This was a ritual that was often repeated. Many times she promised herself she would do things differently the next shopping trip, but she had yet to keep that promise to herself.

"Finally," she mumbled to herself as she retrieved her keys from the very bottom of her purse. "I need to get a big, flashy keychain so that this won't be such a process next time!"

A wisp of her long, blonde hair fell into her face, but she didn't have enough hands to push it out of her line of sight. She struggled to fit the key into the lock, but was having little success. The grocery bags were getting heavy hanging from her wrists and arms, and were impeding her progress and most likely her blood circulation.

"Hey, Leslie! Need some help?"

Leslie was so engrossed in her futile attempt to unlock the door that she failed to notice Tom Behmer, the apartment complex manager, follow her up the steps. She gasped when she heard her name, and when she finally looked up to see the part of him that was not obstructed by the hair in her eyes, she struggled to be civil. Tom lived directly below her, and if the word 'scuzzy' was in the dictionary, there would be a full body picture of him beside the definition. Tom's appearance was very unkempt on any given day. Today he was wearing the same wife-beater he had worn the previous day, she knew this, because it was stained with mustard from the hot dog she had seen him eating on the porch yesterday. He was probably wearing the same hunter green sweat pants as well. One leg of the sweat pants was pulled down to a respectable location on his leg; the other was bunched up near his knee. "How can he even be comfortable with his britches in such a state?" Leslie wondered within herself.

Tom brushed his unwashed, chin-length, dark hair out of his unshaven face and said, "Didn't mean to spook ya. Do you need some help?"

"Nope! I think I've got this under control," she said as the bottom of one grocery bag gave way, causing a carton of yogurt, a bunch of bananas, and a bag of flour to crash onto the concrete floor.

Tom waved his arm, trying to dispel the cloud of flour dust that was now hanging in the air. "It looks like you really could use some help!" he said with an amused grin. He began to clean up the mess on the porch while Leslie managed to unlock her door without any of the other bags wreaking havoc. She placed the remaining groceries just inside the door, threw her purse onto the plaid loveseat, and bent down to help Tom.

"You know this kind of thing wouldn't happen if you had a man in your life," Tom said with a very unsettling look in his grey eyes. "I'd love to take you out for lunch sometime."

"No, thank you," Leslie said with as much grace as she could muster. She was struggling not to gag as his warm breath smacked her in the face. Inwardly she contemplated whether it would be truly wrong to throw a breath mint in his mouth while he was speaking, but opted against it. It was very likely that he would end up choking on it, and she would be obliged to give him the Heimlich. Since she didn't want to get that close to him, she figured that the risks outweighed the benefits in this case. "I honestly don't mind being single, and am very happy with my life right now," she concluded.