Chapter 2

The next afternoon, as Ranger drove the highway between Newark and Trenton after a business meeting, his vehicle ran out of gas. Irritation set in when Ranger realized the fuel gauge indicated there was still a half tank. Rather than call one of his men to bring a gallon of gas to him, he decided it was quicker to hoof it the few miles to an exit with a gas station.

At the gas station, he handed the attendant his platinum credit card and was shocked when the teenaged boy pulled out a pair of scissors and cut the card in half.

"I'm sorry, your credit card company told me to do it," the boy explained, while he shrank against the wall under Ranger's withering gaze.

Without a word, Ranger threw down several bills and strode out of the store, a filled gas container in his hand. He always had plenty of cash on him, so he was able to pay for the needed fuel, but was upset that his bank hadn't honored his card. He paid all his bills on time and knew that was not the problem. He'd definitely be having words with his credit card company when he got back to RangeMan.

As he jogged back to his car with a small can of gasoline, it started to rain. Within seconds, he was soaked, which didn't help his bad mood. Things like this never happened to him. He felt like throwing the can across the highway, but tamped down his anger. The day had been one frustration after another.

Earlier in the day, during a business meeting with a new client in Newark, he discovered he'd brought the wrong contracts. After a delay waiting for Tank to email the correct contracts to his laptop and asking the client if he could print them out, Ranger went to sign on the dotted line and the pen he was using, his favorite Montblanc pen, suddenly released its cartridge of ink and ruined the contract. His client was not pleased to have to reprint another contract and sign them again. The blunders did not represent Ranger and RangeMan Enterprises in a smooth, efficient light.

That evening, Ranger pulled into Steph's apartment parking lot to pick her up for a much needed, relaxing dinner at Rossini's, his favorite Italian restaurant. The only parking spot he could find was in the back of the lot next to the smelly dumpster. He locked the Porsche and made his way to the building's back door, uncharacteristically stumbling over one of the concrete parking chocks. To his dismay, he saw there was a tear in his black slacks. Just a little rip in the right knee, hardly noticeable. No one saw him stumble, but he was annoyed with his unusual clumsiness all the same. He was glad the day was nearly over, and he could spend some quality time with Stephanie.

He proceeded into the lobby intending to take the stairs, but octogenarian Mrs. Bestler was waiting for him in the elevator and insisted she "escort" him to the second floor. Cursing his poor timing, he relented and stepped into the elevator. Despite his icy glare, she leaned into him and batted her rheumy eyes at him.

"My, you're a big one," she noted. Putting her hand on her hip, she crooned, "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, you walk into mine." She winked at him and lowered her voice, "I rented the movie Casablanca tonight. Why don't you come up to my place and we can watch it together. I'll make us some popcorn with lots of butter. It might be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Her weepy eyes fluttered at him again, and he swallowed the bile that rose up his throat. He politely declined and as soon as the elevator doors opened, he hurried into the refuge of Stephanie's apartment, relief oozing out of him as the door closed behind him. When did little old ladies feel they could come on to him so blatantly? When did his ability to glare at people and get them to back off stop working?

An hour later, he arrived at Rossini's with Stephanie, parking in the back. As he escorted Stephanie in front of him, he didn't notice a small pothole until too late and stumbled against a pile of garbage bags. His hand sunk into one of the bags and came out covered in a stinky sludge, and, to his dismay, the small rip in his pants had ripped a little further. He let Steph continue on to their reserved table while he visited the restroom to wash up. He was so focused on getting to the table unnoticed with the gaping hole in the knee of his pants that he wasn't aware of his surroundings, and didn't see Grandma Bella and Angela Morelli sitting at another table across the restaurant. Bella, however, was very aware of Ranger and kept her eyes glued to him throughout the evening.

Just as Ranger slid into the booth across from Steph, a young boy brought menus and two goblets of ice cold water to the table. The youth was obviously nervous and stuttered, "Y-Y-Y-Your waiter t-t-t-tonight is J-J-J-Justin."

Ranger looked up and asked, "W-W-W-Would you b-b-b-bring us the w-w-wine list?" He couldn't believe his ears as he stuttered and stammered his way through the simple sentence. The young boy looked mortified, thinking Ranger was mocking him.

Steph raised her head, her eyes wide and exclaimed, "Ranger," with an intonation of both question and disbelief. Ranger had no explanation, so said nothing, but Stephanie couldn't let it go. Her eyes narrowed and she kicked Ranger in the shins under the table. Unfortunately, her stiletto heel caught in the rip in Ranger's pants and nearly tore his pants leg off.

"Oh my God!" she cried, ducking her head under the table for a second to see the damage to Ranger's slacks. "I can't believe that happened. It's not my fault."

"Don't worry about it, Babe," he told her, a resigned look on his face. "Let's just get through dinner and I'll deal with it when we get home." A high-pitched cackle came from across the room, but when Ranger swiveled to see where it came from, he didn't see anyone laughing.

Their waiter, Justin, came by with the wine list and to recite the evening's specials. After Justin was finished speaking, Ranger indicated they were ready to order. But when Ranger opened his mouth, he started coughing. Justin politely waited for Ranger to take a sip of water. But as Ranger tried to speak, he couldn't stop coughing. When the coughing finally stopped, after several sips of water, Ranger tried to order again but he had no voice left, he could only croak.

Justin turned away slightly and rolled his eyes, ignoring the sharp look Ranger gave him. Steph jumped in and ordered for both of them.

After the waiter left, Steph asked, "Are you all right?"

Not trusting himself to speak, he just nodded and cleared his throat, wondering what was wrong with his voice. Wanting to reassure Stephanie, he reached for her hand, but, in the process, knocked over her water goblet, soaking the white tablecloth. Waiters rushed to replace the wet cloth, drawing attention to the table and irritating Ranger. At least the arrival of their dinners was uneventful, and both Ranger and Stephanie enjoyed a quiet dinner together.

But toward the end of dinner, Ranger reached for his wine glass and accidentally knocked it over, staining not only the white tablecloth but his slacks, too. He had had enough. Stephanie was just getting ready to dig into her tiramisu, but Ranger insisted they leave, immediately. As Ranger led a pouting Stephanie across the restaurant floor, he noticed Bella Morelli sitting at a booth with Joe's mother. Bella was grinning and pointing her finger at him and at his wet, torn slacks. She shook her finger at him and then touched her eye as if to say, "Gotcha!"

Could it be? he thought, but then dismissed that ridiculous notion. Curses were for the gullible and superstitious. And he was anything but.

Steph confronted him as soon as they got in the car. "Did something happen between you and Grandma Bella?"

"If you are referring to that little old lady in the restaurant, I ran into her yesterday at Giovichinni's. She indicated she wasn't too happy that you and I were seeing each other. Seems she is a little overprotective of her grandson."

"A little?" Steph cried. "A grizzly bear is less protective of her cubs than Grandma Bella is of Joe. She didn't... um... do anything to you, did she?"

Ranger chuckled. "Are you afraid she might beat me to a bloody pulp? Really, Babe?"

Steph rolled her eyes. "I'm not worried about her hitting you. More like..." she paused and blew out some air.

Ranger put his hand over hers and said, "That old lady can't do anything that could hurt me." Steph started to say something, but Ranger squeezed her hand. "Don't worry about it." She turned in her seat and stared out the window, but didn't say anything else.

On the way home, since Stephanie didn't get her dessert, she insisted Ranger stop at a convenience store and let her stock up on Tastykakes and candy bars. While he waited in the car, his frustrations built as he went over all the things that had gone wrong that day. He didn't believe in the evil eye or curses, but he had to admit, his day had definitely been a disaster. He also didn't believe in luck, good or bad. He believed a man made his own fortune, but he had no explanation why things had taken a turn for the worse for him today. He wanted nothing more than to go home and lock himself behind closed doors. With Stephanie, he amended.

He almost chuckled when he realized his terrible day was like a normal day in Stephanie's life. How did she do it, day after day, and stay so upbeat? He watched her leave the convenience store and walk toward him. She was beautiful and sexy and she was his. The day's miserable events dropped off him as he reached across the car to open the passenger door for her, and he gave her a long drawn-out kiss before driving home.

When they arrived at her apartment, he wanted to go to bed right then, but Steph wanted her dessert. He waited impatiently in the kitchen while she gobbled down four Tastykakes and three candy bars.

As she popped the last bite of a butterscotch krimpet into her mouth, Ranger moved behind her and lifted her mass of curls, planting kiss after kiss on her shoulders and neck. Continuing with his seduction, he moved Stephanie slowly into the bedroom and began to remove her little black dress. The back zipper was a simple affair, but Ranger fumbled it and the zipper caught on the silk jersey fabric. As he continued to tug on the zipper, Steph finally protested his roughness.

"Let me do it, Ranger," she said.

"No, I've got it," he insisted, and tried to force the zipper down.

Stephanie grimaced and pleaded, "Please, let me do it. The dress is brand new and it cost me a fortune."

"Dammit, I'll buy you a dozen dresses," he snarled, letting his frustration show in both voice and motion.

"No, you won't. I'm not a kept woman," Steph responded and slipped out of his grasp. She went into the bathroom to get out of the dress herself.

Reluctantly, Ranger stripped down and climbed into bed to wait. Steph finally came out in her scruffy pink bathrobe and then sat at the end of the bed to apply lotion to her arms and legs.

Usually a man of infinite patience, tonight Ranger was on edge and couldn't wait. He scooted down the bed and put his arms around her, pulling her back against him. She responded as she always did, melting into his arms and turning her head to be kissed. He did not disappoint. Soon, she was out of her robe and on her back, with Ranger poised above her, each of them looking forward to a night of unbridled passion.

Ranger shifted his weight so he could kiss those luscious plump lips of hers, but his hand became tangled in her hair, and he inadvertently pulled until she hissed in pain.

"Sorry, Babe," he murmured, kissing her and massaging her scalp to relieve the sting.

"That's all right," she whispered, running her hands through his hair and giving it a gentle tug. "Sometimes, a little pain can heighten things." With that, she kissed his neck and then bit him, not too hard, but hard enough to make him groan in arousal.

He continued fondling, kissing and caressing as he moved down her body, paying special attention to those spots he knew drove her wild. Extremely aroused himself, he slid his leg in between hers, accidentally bumping her groin with his knee. She gasped in pain.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked, his voice no more than a whisper as he rose up so he could look into her eyes.

"It's all right," she replied. "Your knee just hit me a little hard in... a sensitive place."

His brow furrowed, wondering what was wrong with him tonight. He was never clumsy with a woman, and especially not with Stephanie. He moved down her oh so responsive body, eager to kiss away the hurt in that sensitive place.

He kissed circles around her breast and then sucked her nipple into his mouth. Again, he heard her gasp in pain. Her hands came up on either side of his head and lifted him up. She explained, "My breasts are really tender right now," she murmured. "I must be close to my period."

Ranger nodded and resumed his loving ministrations, trying to be very gentle with her. He thought he had lightened the pressure, but she still sucked in air trying hard not to complain. For just an instant, Ranger began to doubt his sexual prowess.

All of a sudden, a screeching noise filled the air and both Ranger and Steph looked at each other, saying simultaneously, "Fire!" They both scrambled to get dressed, Ranger ripping his pants even more. Frustrated, he tore off the dangling bottom half of the right pant leg. Steph grabbed Rex's cage and they dashed out into the hallway that was rapidly filling with old folks. The shriek of the hallway fire alarm was deafening.

Ranger immediately took charge and had Steph call in the emergency while he guided everyone down the stairs, refusing to let anyone use the elevator. One of the older women struggled with her walker, so Ranger scooped her up and carried her down the stairs, making sure everyone got out safely. It took him forever, but he finally marshalled everyone toward the back of the parking lot, well away from the building, before he ran back in for a last check.

He followed the smoke trail to the third floor and found Mrs. Bestler leaning against her open door, a glass of bourbon in one hand and a kitchen towel in the other. She was lazily waving wisps of smoke out of her apartment with the towel. He was about to pick her up and sling her over his shoulder, when the acrid smell of burning popcorn hit his nostrils.

Mrs. Bestler looked up at him with a sheepish grin. "Here's looking at you, kid," she giggled, raising her glass to her lips. "We can still watch the movie, but I'm afraid popcorn is off the menu tonight," she said, pointing toward her kitchen and dropping the towel. Then she reached out her wrinkled, age-spotted hand and placed it on his bare knee, slowly moving it up his thigh. "But I'm still on," she said, suggestively. "Very on." She puckered up, "Kiss me. Kiss me as if it were the last time."

Ranger just shook his head at the obviously inebriated woman. Quickly extricating himself from her roving hand, he did a quick run through her apartment and found the still smoldering bag of popcorn in the microwave. He called the fire department and reported the fire as a false alarm, then went back out to the parking lot to herd all the old folk back into the building.

His last stop was Steph's apartment. She was just settling Rex and his tank back in his usual spot on the kitchen counter when Ranger joined her. Steph slipped her arms around him and let out a big sigh.

"Well, that was fun," she said, sarcastically. "And you have to admit, that was not my fault."

"It's rarely your fault, Babe," Ranger agreed, tightening his hold on her waist. "By the way, is Mrs. Bestler related to your grandma?"

Steph giggled. "No, but there are similarities. They're both lonely, but they have good taste in men." She reached down and stroked his bare knee.

Normally, that would have been all the invitation Ranger needed, but given his earlier poor performance, he decided to call it quits for the night. Reluctantly, he informed her, "I have an early morning appointment. I'll call you tomorrow." He kissed her and walked out the door. Steph ran her fingers over her tingling lips, confused and unsatisfied.