It seemed unlikely that anything would come from it, yet Harriet Osborn found herself pacing back down the street she'd just walked, her eyes firmly set on the sidewalk in search of the lost earing and ignoring the pain radiating from her scuffed up knees. If it had been a bit of fashion jewellery, a piece of tat she probably wouldn't have bothered especially at that time of night and certainly not after what had just transpired but the small Emerald studs had been in the family for many years and it broke her heart to think that she'd lost one. A twinkle caught her eye and she stepped towards it, bending carefully and holding out her hand in front of her tentatively. Letting her fingers graze over the gold earring she heaved a sigh of relief, on the verge of tears she was perfectly aware of how lucky she was to have found it. Looking ahead and behind her Harriet stole the earring away in her coat pocket, her fist still clutched around it and headed back, her pace a little quicker. Her wrist and hand still hurt from where she'd tried to punch her mugger, she held it against her chest like a pile of books and she just wanted to get home and put some frozen peas on it. She laughed to herself, she didn't even know if she had any frozen peas; it was just something she'd always heard or what people said in that situation. Her bag and the contents were long gone, she was under no illusion that she would never see it again. Luckily there hadn't been much in it, a twenty, her lipstick and a stick of gum. Hearing a trash can fall over in front of her Harriet's eyes widened in surprise as she jumped. She went as fast as she could, all but sprinting down the street. She desperately wanted to take off her black heels but there was no way she was walking barefoot on a city sidewalk.
She was still a couple of blocks away from her apartment when she heard footsteps coming up quickly behind her. She didn't dare look back, hunching her shoulders and keeping her focus on the floor she carried on, praying that whoever it was would just whiz passed her. Which they did, making Harriet flinch and instinctively close her eyes. She figured she was more shook up then she had initially realised. She saw him turn his head as he continued to run, maybe wondering why a woman was walking alone so late at night in not one of the best parts of the city. 'You and me both!' she thought to herself and then stopped in her tracks when she saw that he had come to a standstill and was looking at her. Harriet considered her options, go back on herself, cross the road? There was no one around and even if she screamed out who would hear her and who would care? In a state of panic her brain fired off a series of electrons and she found herself shouting out to him.
"Just leave me alone! Go on! Just keep running!" her voice cracked and she faltered as she watched the man not move.
"Are you hurt?" she heard him ask and instinctively shook her head.
"No, I'm fine! Just… just keep going! Please!" Harriet felt utterly ridiculous, knowing that if he wanted to the man could overpower her in an instant. Even in the silhouette of the night sky and sporadic streetlamps his muscular build was evident. She watched him hesitate, put one foot in front of the other and then pause, in response she stepped off the sidewalk, intent on crossing the road and getting as far away as possible. The approaching taxi just had enough time to swerve and honk its horn noisily. Jumping back Harriet stared at the taxi before quickly continuing on her way not wanting to think how close she'd come to being knocked down.
"Ma'am!" she heard him shout after her a moment later. "I'm not going to hurt you, please… I can see that you're holding your arm, are you really alright?" Harriet rolled her eyes, exhausted by the whole night. Seemingly she was having to deal with a Good Samaritan now as well as everything else that had happened over the last couple of hours. As she was about to shout back to him to just leave her alone she saw a large group of people turn the corner in front of her, from the shouting and jeering they were clearly on their way home from an alcohol fuelled night. It was Harriet's turn to hesitate.
"Alright Honey!" one of the men shouted out and immediately Harriet felt sick to her stomach. They were probably harmless revellers but Harriet wasn't thinking straight and in that moment she didn't feel safe with anybody. Without seeing or hearing a thing Harriet became aware of the runner by her side, an impressively large arm coming to rest around her shoulders.
"Just keep walking," he told her in a hushed tone. Harriet did as she was told, her instinct was still to run but a small chunk of her brain knew what the stranger was doing. His voice sounded calm and controlled, not at all threatening. Figuring there was no way she would get through a gaggle of partygoers on her own she kept her head down. The crowd walked past letting out a few wolf-whistles and remarks but without much to-do and Harriet let out the breath she had been holding. They carried on that way for a block until the man beside her turned and saw that they were gone. Taking his arm back he brought them to a standstill.
"Thank you," she whispered, her adrenaline clearly wearing off and leaving her shaking and scared out of her wits.
"Can I help? Are you alright?" he asked her seeing the tears prickle her eyes almost immediately.
"I was mugged," she told him. "I was making my way home from a friend's and I was mugged, I was supposed to get a taxi but…" Harriet lost her train of thought as she continued to stare at the ground.
"Alright, your hand?" he asked interrupting her ramblings and Harriet found herself holding it out to him.
"I fought back, idiotic I know!" she laughed sadly. "I ended up hurting myself more than him I think!" Harriet heard him chuckle, probably in sympathy and hopefully to try and calm her down. "He just dropped me like a bag of potatoes and ran!" He watched as she stuck out her legs one by one in front of her to check her bleeding knees. She again recalled that she had no idea who this person was and she hated the fact that she was finding it almost impossible to trust him. She thought to herself how sad it was that she was coming up with all sorts of awful scenarios in her mind but that was the world they lived in she supposed.
"You probably just need to put ice on that hand, how far away do you live?" He saw her hesitate. "Do you still have your key?" She shook her head and chose not tell him she kept one on top of the window frame in her corridor.
"I'm fine really, it's not far and…" she started walking away from him again but he kept pace with her. Harriet stopped and pulled away which seemed to make him realise how unsafe he was making her feel. Holding up his hands he took a step back himself, hoping she understood his intentions.
"There's an all night diner one block from here, can I take you there? We can get ice on that hand and you could ring somebody?" Harriet peered up at him, his face was kind and he looked like he was genuinely concerned. "I don't have my phone," he added by way of an explanation. She quickly figured that at the very least getting to somewhere more public could only be a good thing and nodded.
"Thank you," she said again, unsure as to what else to say.
"Please, don't thank me, let's get you fixed up." They set off walking again in silence, all the while Harriet keeping an eye out and planning possible escape routes if the need arose. Not that she for one second thought she could outrun the man walking beside her but she figured it was her brain's way of trying to keep her calm. When they got to the diner he told her to take a seat in one of the booths. She watched as he went to the counter and asked for ice, pointing to her and clearly explaining the situation. Two cups of coffee were placed in front of him by the waitress and Harriet watched as he brought them over, set them down and then retrieved the ice held in a towel. "Put this on," he told her and Harriet gingerly placed the ice over her bruised knuckles. "Sugar?"
"No thank you," Harriet answered seeing that he was holding the sugar up in front of her. "Oh yes, I will actually. Thank you." Putting a spoonful of sugar in her coffee she watched as he turned the handle towards her so that she could use her left hand.
"Better?" he asked as she took a sip.
"Yes, a little." she answered as she peered up at him quickly.
"And the hand?" Harriet winced in response, it hurt like hell.
"That too," she answered. She noticed that he seemed to be as nervous as she was, keeping his focus on the coffee cup in front of him. After an overwhelmingly long silence and she had all but drank her coffee she looked up at him and smiled the tiniest of smiles. "I'm Harriet," she told him. "Harry," she added and when she saw him smile she finally allowed herself to think that she was perhaps safe with this Good Samaritan.
"I'm Steve," he told her. "Did you get a look at the person?" The way his brow creased in real concern made Harriet begin to settle a bit.
"No, it all happened pretty quickly." Harriet rolled her eyes, "It's such a cliché!" she exclaimed.
"You should file a police report…" Steve started but Harriet laughed and shook her head.
"I don't think there's much point, I have no idea what he looks like and there was very little in my purse. I'm out a few dollars and sporting bruised knuckles!" she smiled sadly at him and continued to sip her coffee. "He probably needs it more than I do," she added shrugging her shoulders. "You were running?" she asked.
"Pardon me?" Steve was caught off guard by her question, he'd been taken aback momentarily by this woman's compassionate philosophy towards her mugger. It was rare he met people who had the same forgiving nature as he did.
"I take it you were out for a run?" Harriet asked again seeing that his shoulders relaxed.
"Oh yes, I was." He answered.
"It's pretty late," Harriet watched as he took a sip of his own coffee.
"Or early, depends on your perspective I suppose." Steve unconsciously lifted the towel full of ice from Harriet's knuckles to have a look. "Keep it on for a bit more," he told her and she found herself nodding in response.
"Well, in any case I'm glad that you were." An awkward silence fell upon them both once more and each one found themselves staring into the bottom of their coffee cups. "What time is it?!" Harriet asked, looking around her for a clock. Steve checked his watch and then turned his arm so that she could see.
"It's coming up to five." He told her as he brought his arm back down by his side.
"Your watch has hands, I didn't think anybody had those anymore?" Harriet smiled and was glad when seemingly Steve didn't mind her comment either. The coffee had done the trick and she felt thoroughly warmed up, feeling too hot she started to try and shirk off her coat. After a bit of a struggle she looked to Steve who was watching her intently. "Do you mind… can you grab the cuff of my coat?" Stretching out her arm towards Steve she watched as he carefully took hold of the cuff so that she could pull her arm out without hurting her hand too much. "Thank you," she said as she wriggled out her other arm and shoulder and folded the black coat up beside her.
The starkness of her alabaster skin against the off the shoulder emerald dress she was wearing caught Steve off guard. He averted his eyes immediately and took a large swig of his coffee.
"You been to a party?" he found himself asking and Harriet looked down at her crumpled dress.
"Yes, a birthday party." She told him.
"Was it a good?" Harriet laughed.
"Yeah it was a good party, the night could've ended better!" Shrugging her shoulders Harriet found herself blushing.
"Here you go sweetie, looks like you could use it." Harriet looked up at the waitress who was setting a piece of pecan pie down in front of her.
"Oh thank you, that's very kind." Harriet smiled at her and laughed when the waitress set a fork down in front of Steve as well.
"If the lady needs some help with that," she told him before giving Harriet a wink, filled up their coffee cups and walked away. Steve picked up the fork and held it in front of him.
"You need help?" he asked her, his blue eyes twinkling.
"I guess you could have a bite or two," Harriet told him seriously before promptly telling him he could have as much as he wanted.
"How long have you lived in the city?" Steve asked Harriet, allowing himself to take in her appearance. The dress was a showstopper Steve couldn't help but notice but he found himself smiling to himself when he imagined that Harriet seemed the type who wouldn't think twice about hiking it up to jump a fence or play hop scotch in the street. She looked to him like she'd be much more suited to living out in the country, not that she would have looked out of place in some swanky restaurant in the city either! It was her fresh faced complexion and the easy way in which she'd styled her hair that made him think of her on a farm. But what did he know, he was a fella from Brooklyn!
"Long enough to know that I shouldn't have gone in search of a taxi!" Harriet replied, widening her eyes comically. "And you?" she asked, popping another spoonful of pie into her mouth.
"I moved here recently," Steve answered.
"How are you finding it?" Harriet peered up over the brim of her coffee cup at Steve. He was a clean cut guy, hair styled functionally and conservatively. He clearly worked out and from the way he held himself, his back ramrod straight she imagined he was military, or police perhaps? His caring eyes threw her though, she couldn't quite make him out.
"It's taking a bit of getting used to," he confided in her. "I'm from Brooklyn originally," he added.
"Oh well this should be a walk in the park for you then!" Harriet laughed. "It was a big change for me, I'd never seen buildings so high before!" Harriet laughed at herself. "I'm making myself sound so provincial aren't I?" Blushing again Harriet closed her eyes in despair and mentally chastised herself for sounding so ridiculous.
"What do you do?" Steve asked seeing that Harriet all of a sudden looked uncomfortable.
"I'm an Opera singer," she answered and smiled when Steve's eyes widened in surprise. "You're going to tell me I don't look like one aren't you?" she guessed.
"Well, yes actually." Steve laughed.
"I'm a Soprano, you're thinking of the big old Opera singers of the past but if I carry on eating this I won't be far off!" Harriet put her fork down and checked her hand.
"How is it?" Steve asked again as he peered down at her delicate fingers and bruised knuckles.
"Surprisingly better," Harriet said, "I've never punched anybody in my life and I could have gone with never having done it if I had known how much it hurts!" Steve liked the easy way in which Harriet talked, there was nothing phony about the way she answered his questions, asked her own or told him what she did. He'd known she had been incredibly cautious with him at the start and he couldn't blame her for it. He'd also recognised that something was wrong the moment he'd run passed her. The way she had shouted at him to carry on, crossed the street, he knew the type of character she was. Still, nothing in him could have ever of just carried on running.
Now he was certainly glad that he hadn't, he hadn't sat in an all-night diner with a woman and talked for a very long time, if ever. Not that he liked the reason for them being there! "What are you thinking about?" Harriet asked Steve which took him by surprise, she must have seen it on his face.
"How did you…?" he started. "It was nothing," he decided on eventually.
"Come on, tell the class Steve." Harriet urged him on gently with a smile, letting a little more of her personality come out.
"I was thinking that it was nice sitting here and talking with you," he told her honestly.
"I'm glad I was mugged!" Harriet laughed and Steve blushed.
"Oh no, I didn't mean that! Of course that's not…"
"Steve stop, I'm joking." Harriet felt bad for making the joke. "I know what you mean, for want of better words I'm actually enjoying it too. I don't get much time to sit and talk."
"But you love it though?" he asked.
"What? Singing?" Steve nodded.
"Oh yes I love it, but that's not say that I don't miss having this opportunity. To sit with someone and make small talk, and for it to happen with someone who isn't awful?!" Steve barked with laughter. "Well, I can't really wish that I hadn't had my purse stolen." The pair sat opposite one another smiling shyly. Both were way out of their comfort zone, adrenaline running and slightly taken aback for their own personal reasons as to why it felt so nice to sit and have a coffee with one another.
"Are you performing at the moment?" Steve asked feeling like the air between them was becoming thick and heavy.
"Yes, we're doing La donna del lago." Harriet could see that Steve hadn't heard of the opera. "It's called The Lady of the Lake." She explained to him and Steve found that Harriet was neither condescending nor judgemental about his ignorance of the opera.
"What's it about?" he asked as he played with the sugar pourer.
"It's composed by Gioachino Rossini, and based on the French translation of The Lady of the Lake, a poem written in eighteen ten by Sir Walter Scott."
"I know that poem!" Steve interrupted and Harriet smiled.
"So, we're in Scotland under King James the fifth in a state of unrest." Steve smiled at the way Harriet leant towards him conspiratorially, as if they were two spy's sharing secrets. "Amongst the rebels were Douglas, Elena's father, Rodrigo, who she was to marry and Malcolm who she loves."
"Tricky," Steve commented.
"Isn't it always?! The King is in the habit of going about his lands disguised as Uberto you see and upon seeing Elena he instantly falls in love with her, but she repels his advances stating that he is confusing hospitality and friendship for romantic interest."
"Tough break," Steve commented as he watched Harriet smirk.
"In the meantime he has realised that she is related to his enemies. The clans gather to overthrow the King, and Rodrigo and Douglas discover Elena's secret love for Malcolm. She tries to keep the peace, but the call to arms diverts the soldiers. The battle does not go well, and Rodrigo is killed. Again the King in disguise encounters Elena and gives her a ring to take to the King if she is ever in trouble. She decides to use it and goes to Stirling Castle where she finds that both Malcolm and Douglas are prisoners. She pleads their cases, and the King magnanimously pardons them and blesses the union, now unimpeded by Rodrigo, between Elena and Malcolm."
"Just like that?" Steve asked creasing his brow.
"Just like that," Harriet repeated.
"I take it you're…?"
"Elena yes," Harriet looked around the diner, apart from the waitress reading her book and an old man at the counter the place was empty. Turning back to Steve she held up her finger, telling him silently to listen. Then very quietly she sang a verse to Steve. "Tanti affetti in tal momento, mi si fanno al core intorno, che l'immenso mio contento, io non posso a te spiegar. Deh! Il silenzio sia loquace… Tutto dica un tronco accento… Ah, Signor! La bella pace, tu sapesti a me donar." Steve didn't know what to say, it was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever heard.
"What did you just sing?" he asked, whispering himself, still taken aback by what he'd just listened to.
"So many emotions in this moment, arise within my heart. That I cannot even try to share with you, how immense my happiness is." Harriet recited the verses but didn't sing them, re-enacting the scene with the same amount of emotion as before. "Ah! Silence shall be more eloquent... Let a broken voice say it all... Oh, Lord! You've been so kind as to give me, such lovely peace and calm." Harriet watched the smile widen on Steve's face and found herself mirroring him. Sitting back she heaved a sigh and shrugged her shoulders gently but seeing that Steve was still watching her blushed once more.
"That's beautiful," he told her and Harriet nodded her head in agreement. "I've never done anything like that on stage…" he started but quickly wondered how to explain himself.
"You've been on stage?!" Harriet asked, surprised.
"Kind of, nothing like that of course!" Steve blushed. "More coffee?" he asked quickly, changing the subject.
"Err, yes please." Harriet answered and watched as Steve caught the waitress' attention. They sat in silence as they both watched her sill their coffee cups, offer them more pie and then returned to her spot behind the counter. After a few more sips of coffee they carried on talking for a while, losing track of time.
"Barefoot in the Park," Harriet smiled. "Have you seen it?" Steve shook his head. "Oh it's one of my favourites, Robert Redford and Jane Fonda! They're newly married, move in to an apartment in New York… chaos ensues! Love it!" Steve liked the way her eyes lit up when she talked about the film. He could tell she was the type who found joy in all things. "What about you? What's your favourite film?" Steve thought for a moment.
"Have you seen The Maltese Falcon?" he asked her and then laughed when she clapped her good hand on the table loudly.
"Humphrey Bogart and Mary Astor, I love that film!" Harriet grinned, "I see you like the classics?" Steve scoffed.
"Yeah, I guess I do. I don't get much time to watch anything new."
"I don't enjoy them much either, I don't feel like they have the same heart as they once did. When you knew who the baddie was and who would win you know? They'd be a romance, a tragedy. It was formulaic but you knew where you stood. I guess I like things simple."
"Nothing wrong with simple," Steve agreed.
"Like this," Harriet waved her arm between them. "This is way out of my comfort zone, obviously I didn't plan on getting mugged but the fact that I'm now sat here having a coffee with a complete stranger? No, this isn't normal for me." Harriet subconsciously smoothed her hair down and wiped a finger under both her eyes.
"I don't make a habit of it either," Harriet blushed at his eventual response.
"No, of course not. But if you don't mind me saying you seem quite at ease with the entire thing. Those people on the street? The fact you stopped in the first place, most people would have carried on running. You can never be too careful these days." Steve didn't reply, not knowing how much to say.
"I'll have to add that film to my list," he told her and Harriet creased her brow in confusion. "Something in the park?"
"Barefoot," she answered.
"Barefoot, that's it, I'll add it to my list."
"You have a list?" Harriet asked bemused.
"Yes, of all the things I need to catch up on." Harriet wondered for a moment if she should ask why he needed to catch up or if it was just a figure of speech and he meant things that he had missed. She was too polite to ask so instead nodded.
"Anything with Humphrey Bogart you should add to your list," she told him and Steve thanked her for the tip. "I'm curious, is this an actual list or a note you type up in your phone?" Harriet rested her chin in the palm of her hand, leaning forward she watched as Steve smirked.
"Good old pen and paper I'm afraid," he answered her with a smile. "Use my phone for talking to people, call me old-fashioned." Steve shrugged his shoulders.
"I got rid of mine two years ago," she told him.
"Your phone?" Harriet nodded. "Why?"
"It was distraction, it wasn't necessary plus when my Hus…" Harriet stopped talking and stared at Steve. She didn't understand why she suddenly felt nervous, clearing her throat she started again. "When my Husband died, I found that it was just a way for people to ring me and remind me he was gone. People have good intentions but sometimes…" She found herself searching his eyes, looking for any kind of reaction to what she'd just said. She'd got used to people balking when she mentioned her Husband's passing.
"I'm sorry for your loss Harriet," Steve told her sincerely and Harriet found that she could breathe again.
"Thank you," Harriet took a deep breath. "So yes, no phone since then!" he watched as she plastered on a smile and tried to get her emotions under control.
"Forgive me for saying, but you look young to be…?" Steve faltered.
"A widow?" Harriet finished for him and Steve reddened realising immediately that he probably wasn't the first person to say that to her.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." Steve watched as Harriet dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand. It certainly wasn't the first time somebody had said that to her, she gave him her usual answer.
"He was very ill, it happened quite suddenly and yes, we were young. But that's how it goes sometimes, I'm sure I'll find out one day why it did." Harriet wiped the tear from her eye, surprised that she'd allowed herself to become upset in front of a complete stranger. She was usually better at keeping things in check. "I haven't yet! But I'm sure I will." She added laughing sadly.
"I, lost somebody I was very close to as well. Time makes it easier." Steve told her quietly and Harriet gently put her hand on top of his. It had been instinctive and as she stared at her hand rest on his, his still holding his coffee cup it felt comforting.
"I think you just get use to the pain," she told him honestly and Steve knew exactly what she meant. Looking at their hands Steve felt at peace. "I've always found it hard to move on from this kind of conversation, so I'm going to make a clean break of it and ask if you want to share another piece of pie?" The way Harriet was smiling at him made Steve smile back.
"Blueberry?" he asked her coyly.
"Blueberry it is!" Harriet replied as she started scooting from the booth.
"I'll get it, you need to rest your hand." Steve protested but Harriet was already holding her finger up to stop him from moving.
"No, you've done enough. I can get a piece of pie, plus the ice has all but melted. My hand is feeling a lot better and I need to get these knees moving!" She showed him her hand and he took it in his own, his fingers tracing over hers where the skin on her knuckles was red and bruised. When he looked back up at her he saw that she was watching him intently, pulling her hand back she laughed nervously and quickly went to the counter. Steve found himself watching after her and when Harriet came back and put the pie on the table she could tell that he was thinking about something. She wondered whether or not she'd made a mistake.
"So, tell me, what books do you recommend?" he asked her as he motioned her to sit back down and Harriet forgot completely what she'd been worried about and sat, telling him all the best books she'd read recently. After a while, with all the pie gone and the coffee cups empty they both knew that they should really go. The bell above the door ringing out jolted both of them out of their thoughts and when they watched an old man walk in and shout morning they turned back to one another and smiled bashfully.
"You'll be wanting to get home, do you want to ring somebody?" Steve said, suddenly aware that this woman had gone through a pretty awful thing and he was making her sit there drinking coffee and eating pie.
"I have a key in my apartment building, I just didn't want to tell you that then… I'm sorry I hope you understand." Steve smiled knowingly and nodded.
"Of course I do, you did the right thing. Can I walk you?" Harriet still found herself being cautious, but looking out the window she noticed the sun was already coming up.
"Please," she whispered. Sliding out of the booth she handed the towel back to the waitress and thanked her. Steve picked up her coat and held it for her to slip her arms in. "Thank you Steve," walking through the door that he held open for her she shivered against the early morning chill. "Are you not cold?" she asked him, noticing the thin material of his t shirt and simple jogging pants.
"No, I'm fine." Steve answered. "Which way?" Harriet pointed in the direction her apartment was in and they set off.
"I never asked you what you did," Harriet said as they made their way down the sidewalk.
"I'm a Captain… in the Army." Steve had been wondering if she had recognised him all night and seemingly she hadn't.
"I thought that may be the case, not a Captain I mean. I had no idea what rank you were but I could tell you were military." She found herself letting him lead the way, staying by his side and stepping off the sidewalk when he did.
"You could?" Steve's hand instinctively went to the small of Harriet's back when they crossed the road.
"I started out singing at a lot of bases, you get used to seeing the tell-tale signs." Harriet's eyes twinkled with mischief and Steve found it utterly endearing. "Plus I grew up on them," she added.
"Where about?" Steve asked.
"All over the world!" Harriet told him as they waited for a green light at a crossing. "Mostly Europe and British bases overseas." Setting off across the road the pair strolled more slowly than usual, neither wanting their conversation to end.
"I wish I'd had the opportunity to hear you sing," he told her.
"Well, if you're not doing anything in two weeks I'll be performing at the VFW on thirty second. You're more than welcome to come, you should come." Harriet felt butterfly's when Steve smiled widely at her and nodded his head.
"You sing Opera there?" he commented and Harriet laughed.
"Well no, I tend to do something more to their taste." Nearly toppling on a dip in the sidewalk Harriet blushed as Steve grabbed her arm quickly to keep her from falling. "So," she continued. "You're welcome to come." She offered again quickly, still feeling the grip of his hand on her arm.
"I'll do that," He answered her, noticing that she kept peering up at him shyly. "You volunteer?" he asked and he watched her nod.
"My Mum, she was in the Army." Harriet told him as they stood waiting at a crosswalk. "It'll be my way of thanking you for helping me, although it doesn't cover it by half! I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't of come by." She told him honestly.
"Something tells me you would have been fine." Steve told her truthfully.
"Fine yes, but that's not the point." She replied quietly as she spotted she was nearly home.
"You lost an earring," Steve noticed, his hand unconsciously pushing back her hair so that it lay down her back. Harriet was taken aback by his action but didn't show it, inside her stomach was churning so much she found it hard to focus.
"I found it," Harriet pulled the stud from her pocket. "See," she showed him the Emerald stud in the palm of her hand.
"That was lucky." Steve said smiling at her.
"It was something," Sharing a look between them the pair walked the rest of the way in silence and when they got to her apartment building Harriet tried again to thank Steve but he soon told her not to. With one last look Steve watched her walk in and then continued on his way, looking forward to two week's time.
Steve stood at the back of the room and watched as Harriet sang to the room full of veterans, she was wearing a dark blue dress and against the backdrop of the small stage and sporadic lighting her skin looked almost luminescent. He'd crept in after she had started and had become mesmerized, her face expressed each and every word of the love song she was currently singing and when he looked to the audience he smiled at the entranced looks on their faces in response. He couldn't deny she had a magnetic personality and he found himself not being able to take his eyes off of her. When the song came to an end and the audience applauded Steve shifted his weight as Harriet took a small bow.
"Thank you ladies and gentleman, thank you." Turning to the small band behind her she nodded and pulled the microphone from its stand. "I'd like to finish with a favourite of mine…" Steve watched as her eyes landed on him and recognition filled her eyes, with a small smile and a blush Harriet cleared her throat quickly and continued. "…I hope you like it too." Steve listened intently as Harriet sang quite an upbeat old swing song. It reminded him of being on tour all those years ago when he'd wait on some stage in some godawful camp as a singer would raise the spirits of the troops overseas. Watching her finish and take another bow he found himself fidgeting as Harriet made her way off stage and after a few handshakes and hugs stopped in front of him.
"Well hello!" she greeted him before leaning in and giving him a delicate kiss on his cheek.
"Hey!" Steve found himself straightening his back and smiling warmly at the woman in front of him.
"I'm glad you could make it," Harriet told him as her hand pushed back the hair falling over her eye. "How are you?" she asked.
"I'm good, you were great!" Harriet blushed and looked to the floor before responding.
"Thank you, I'm glad you liked it, I saw you come in." Crossing her arms she watched and listened to him intently, he found that he felt like they were the only two in the room. He hadn't met many people who had the knack of making him feel like that, always finding that he was either looked at in awe or suspicion.
"You did?" Steve asked, slightly surprised she'd noticed.
"Of course, nothing gets past me!" Harriet laughed.
"I'll try to remember that!" Steve laughed in response. "I'm sorry I was late," he started to apologise but Harriet waved her hand between them.
"Do you want to get a drink?" she asked and saw the look of surprise on his face. She guessed that he was remembering her from two weeks ago, when her nerves were fried and she had just been mugged. "That is, if you have the time?" Steve thought for a second but nodded.
"Of course," he answered and watched as Harriet nodded excitedly and then started making her way towards the back of the stage, motioning for him to follow. In silence they made their way back and once Harriet had grabbed her coat and purse they burst through a backdoor and onto a side street.
"There's a small club down the street, I think you'll like it." She told him as they turned a corner and found themselves on a busy high street.
"How are you?" Steve asked as they made their way between the early evening revelers.
"I'm good, thank you for asking." Harriet answered. "I'm glad you came, I wanted to thank you again. When I got home my nerves caught up with me but I think it would have been a hundred times worse if you hadn't of stopped." Giving him a quick smile Harriet continued to lead the way, her heels making a clicking sound against the concrete.
"You don't need to thank me…" Steve started.
"You have a hard time accepting gratitude don't you Steve?" Harriet laughed and Steve shrugged his shoulders.
"Perhaps," he answered. "Harriet," he added not knowing why.
"Harry, please. My Mother is the only person who calls me that." She told him.
"Harry," Steve repeated and when Harriet playfully knocked her elbow into his arm as they walked he found himself grinning. Coming to the front door of the small jazz club Harriet greeted the doorman and hooked her arm round Steve's, his instinctively tightening around hers.
"Hey Paul how are you?" she greeted.
"I'm good Harry, you?" the man replied as he opened the door.
"I'm great, this is Steve." She introduced the men and as Paul gave Steve a friendly nod the pair walked in. Steve took in the dark walls and a smoky atmosphere. The red leather chairs and booths matched the walls and the long bar down one side was filled with people chatting and ordering drinks. Steve followed Harriet as she made her way through the crowd, as they approached the far end he watched as a server spotted Harriet and motioned for them to come over. Clearing a table and positioning it in front of the stage Steve held onto the back of a chair as Harriet sat and thanked him.
"You come here often?" Steve asked good-humouredly.
"There's not much call for Opera in this city, not full time anyhow so this keeps me in shape." She said as she leant towards him and gave him a wink. "Drink?" she asked as the server hovered nearby.
"A beer, thanks." Steve replied.
"One beer and a Manhattan, straight." Watching the server walk away Steve's attention fell back on Harriet. "So, tonight you're in for a treat, Lucy Pilotte is on and she's great!" Shirking her coat Harriet settled back and crossed her legs, hers pointing towards his.
"What kind of music do they play here?" Steve watched the crowd around them and took in the atmosphere, it was electric and he found himself slightly on edge.
"Mostly jazz but they have an open mic night and the crowd are really welcoming," Harriet told him as the lights came up on stage. Steve's attention was taken up by a woman walking on, the audience started to applaud and Steve found himself applauding also. "I hope you like her, her voice is like honey!" The excitement in Harriet's eyes as she leaned towards him was palpable and for the next twenty minutes or so as the woman sang Steve allowed himself to forget about the outside world. As the woman took a bow and waved he noticed her spot Harriet, when the woman shielded her eyes from the bright stage lights with her hand and then pointed Steve looked to Harriet who was waving the woman away.
"Harry?" the woman asked as she held the mic up to her lips. "Ladies and gentleman we have an absolute treat in store for you tonight!" Harriet was already blushing and scooting down in her chair.
"She does this!" Harriet told Steve laughing.
"Are you on a date?!" the woman suddenly asked as she spotted Steve. Turning her attention to Steve she let her hip drop and placed her hand on it comically. "Who is this tall drink of water?" she asked. Steve smirked and sat up a little straighter.
"Steve Ma'am," he replied.
"Ma'am? Honey, you are mistaking me with my Mother!" Giving him a wink the woman closed her set and began walking off stage, not before looking to Harriet and giving her a wink also. "Harry you better not think you're not giving this crowd a performance." A round of applause erupted from the crowd and Harriet scooted down in her seat.
"I'm sorry about her," Harriet apologized to Steve.
"Don't be, she was great." Steve took a sip of his drink and then folded his arms. "So? Are you going to give this crowd a performance?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye. Harriet was taken aback, until then she had thought he was shy but the look he was giving her was almost devious. She liked this side of him.
"Oh no!" Harriet started, "no not tonight." Steve stood suddenly and turned to the crowd. "Harry Osborn everybody!" clapping his hands he looked back to her.
"I can't believe you did that!" she exclaimed. "I thought you were on my side," standing to a raucous applause Harriet reluctantly stepped onto the stage.
"Good evening ladies and gentleman, it seems I've been backed into a corner!" laughing she turned to the band and whispered some instructions. Steve sat back and watched as she took the mic and after a couple of deep breaths waited for the band to start up.
"The very thought of you, and I forget to do, the little ordinary things that everyone ought to do. I'm living in a kind of daydream, I'm happy as a queen and foolish though it may seem to me that's everything." Harriet's voice swept over Steve like treacle and the silence that swept over the club was palpable. Steve watched as Harriet, with her eyes closed swayed back and forth to the music and when she opened her eyes and stared at him he felt his stomach fill with butterflies. "The mere idea of you, the longing here for you, you never know how slow the moments go, till I'm near to you I see your face in every flower." He watched as she looked out to the rest of the crowd and immediately felt jealous she wasn't looking at him. "Your eyes in stars above, It's just the thought of you, the very thought of you, my love." As the song came to an end and the audience applauded Steve jumped to his feet, extending his hand to Harriet as she stepped down from the stage.
"You were fantastic!" he told her as they both took their seats.
"Thank you," Harriet replied modestly and then taking a large swig of her drink laughed and shook her head. "There's more to you than meets the eye Steve Rogers," she told him.
"I could say the same of you," Steve replied. A comfortable silence fell over them and finishing their drinks they naturally stood and left the club together. Once outside Harriet pulled her coat around her as Steve's hand rested on her back, guiding her down the sidewalk.
"Are you retired?" Harriet asked as they walked.
"Pardon me?" Steve was caught off guard by her question.
"You said you were in the Army, are you on leave or retired? Sorry, I didn't mean to pry…" Harriet felt like she shouldn't have asked when she saw the look on his face.
"No, you're not prying." Steve replied quickly. He suddenly stopped walking and when Harriet carried on then turned on her heel quickly his hand on her arm stopped her from toppling.
"You don't have to tell me Steve" Harriet smiled at him, trying to make him feel at ease.
"I'm technically not in the Army now," he started and blanched when he saw the look of disappointment on Harriet's face. Harriet didn't say anything but looked at him and made it clear that she expected him to go on. "I technically left…" Steve closed his eyes and took a breath. "…in nineteen forty five." Watching her eyes dance with confusion Steve waited for a response but when none came he wondered if he would ever see her again.
"You know what I've been craving?" Harriet asked him, no hint of surprise or shock in her tone of voice. Steve opened his mouth to ask her if she'd heard what he had just said but the way she was grinning at him made him forget his train of thought.
"What?" he asked.
"That pie we had at the diner, do you remember?" Steve creased his brow in confusion, she either didn't hear him, was choosing to ignore him or didn't care. He had no idea which one it was.
"I do," he answered finally. Harriet stepped towards him, they were still stood on the corner of the sidewalk facing one another.
"Do you fancy a slice?" she asked as Steve took a step towards her.
"I do," he said once more as his hands came to rest on her shoulders and he gently pulled her towards him. Harriet laughed lightly and then focused her gaze on his lips, letting him know she was happy for him to lean in and kiss her. Steve didn't fail to notice her tongue quickly slip over her bottom lip in anticipation and that was all it took for him to close the gap between them. As his lips softly landed on hers they both closed their eyes and let the rest of world melt away. When a contented whimper rose from Harriet's stomach to her lips Steve grinned and reluctantly pulled away.
"That was nice," Harriet said quietly still reeling from the feeling of electricity flowing through her from head to toes.
"You want to go get that pie?" Steve asked her and when Harriet nodded enthusiastically, slipped her arm through his and turned to walk Steve smiled and took a step forward also, eager to see where he would end up.
The End