Page 6 of Just Another Silly Love Song

Sure, I was forty years old and some would say I had officially entered ma’am territory, but you can tell every single one of those people that I’m not listening.

I tried to hypnotize Mr. BMW with my glare to get him to move out of the way, but all it did was give me an acute pain between my eyes. Sort of like a brain freeze, but without the added benefit of ice cream.

I shook it off and focused on the situation at hand.

The parking spot that I wanted.

Needed.

Neither of us were making a move.

It felt like we were playing a game of chicken with our cars. Twelve to fifteen inches separated our bumpers, and neither of us could claim the open parking spot unless the other person moved.

Well, I wasn’t going to budge.

This shopping center was notorious for having the worst parking ever, especially during the evening rush when people were frequenting one of the many popular restaurants and stores. I was in desperate need of my usual large mocha from Peet’s, and I needed to get back on the road before I would be late for work.

Normally, I wouldn’t get into a confrontation with a rude person because it wasn’t worth the negative energy in my life, but this man was the moldy, rotten cherry on top of my already craptastic cupcake of a day.

He pointed at my Fiat 500. “How was I supposed to know you wanted this parking spot? Men aren’t mind-readers, you know.”

Believe me, I know.

“I think it was pretty obvious I wanted this spot,” I said.

He slid his glasses down his nose and arched his eyebrow. “Not obvious at all. Now, if you would’ve used a blinker . . .”

There was something oddly and annoyingly familiar about the man. “Do I know you?”

He smirked. “You don’t know if you know me?”

This man had an ego the size of my Fiat.

I sighed. “Look—I need to get my mocha from Peet’s.”

“So do I.”

“Yeah, but the difference is I’m in a hurry. Can you please just back out of the way and look for another place to park?”

He chuckled, which wasn’t a good sign. “You want me to drive around in circles until I find another spot, even though I have this perfect location right in front of the door? No way.”

“I’m having a horrible day and don’t need something else to add to the list.”

“Your day couldn’t have been worse than mine.”

“Wanna bet?”

He stared at me like I was crazy, which probably wasn’t far off the mark after what I had been through today. “No bet, although I’m sure my day was worse.”

I let out a frustrated breath. “Okay, I’m running out of time, so let’s do this. Whomever is having the worst day gets the spot.”

He chuckled. “Seriously?”

“Yes—I’ll go first.” I lifted the sleeve of my blouse and showed him. “I snagged my favorite top on my car door but didn’t have time to change because I was running late.”

He laughed. “And because of that your day is horrible? Nice try.”

“Oh, I’m nowhere near done. My hair stylist canceled my appointment on me today.”