Just twenty-four hours ago he’d met an amazing woman and his whole outlook on life changed. The only dark cloud? Brittany wouldn’t stop texting him messages of love and forgiveness and yuck. He’d have to put a block on his phone and email when he got home after his shoot. The day would be long, with multiple sites for a host of different photo shoots. He showered, dressed, and headed out the door. He was known for being prompt to his jobs and prided himself for his professionalism. He stopped cold about ten feet away from his bike. He could see from where he stood that the gas tank and fenders had been keyed, scratched beyond a simple accident, but purposely scratched so that a simple buff wouldn’t be enough to fix the damage. “Son of a bitch!” He hurried up to it for a closer inspection and dialed the police non-emergency number requesting an officer come take a look and write up a report. He called his first job and told them what happened. Pissed as hell, he rescheduled for next month.
