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The Girl who was tied to a man

by D.L. Marsh

Copyright 2013 D.L Marsh

Published by D.L. Marsh at Smashwords

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Mary said, "It's sounds like an odd prank. Why are we doing it?"

Judy added, "It'll be interesting. He really never says anything to anybody. Somebody needs to change that.”

Hannah added, "I don't want to make him feel uncomfortable."

The other Hannah settled it. "He's really handsome and big and strong. But he's fragile. It would embarrass him and I don't like it."

Judy said, "You're no fun. We could make him do something for us and get him to talk. He needs to step out of his comfort zone."

The first Hannah responded, "This isn't the way to do it, though."

Judy said, "Alright. We'll forget about it."

The four women were all in their mid-twenties. Mary looked nice and friendly. She was a bit plump, but nothing objectionable. Judy was the opposite. She dieted too much. No one ever saw her eat. He figure was short on curves. The first Hannah, Hannah Manwaring, had blonde hair and blue eyes and a lovely figure. She was in her last year of college and headed for a career in government. The second Hannah, Hannah Jonas, came from a family dedicated to law enforcement. Her father, brother and uncle were all in the Morgan's Crossing Police Department. She had short hair and wore pants every day.

Judy suggested earlier that they put up signs saying "Wet Paint" on the door to the office and force Tom to work at a small desk in the main part of the fabric store. Judy said it would be good for him. She was disappointed when the other ladies wouldn't go along.

Tom Jenkins was notorious for talking so little and in such short sentences that the ladies wondered if he would ever get married since he'd have to say four words, together, in one sentence, to propose.

Hannah Manwaring had special reasons for not wanting Tom embarrassed. She'd fallen hard for him the first time he came to work at the shop. Pine Needles sold fabric and patterns for quilters. Tom handled the books and the business side of the shop.

When Hannah first saw him six months earlier, he was standing by the front counter waiting to be interviewed by Mrs. Howard, the owner of the shop. Hannah came around the corner and there he was. She saw him from the side first. He stood up straight and tall with a muscled chest and strong arms. She never mentioned it but she got a good look at his butt and felt a little faint. She walked up to him and said, “Hi, I’m Hannah. May I help you?”

He had the nicest brown eyes she’d ever seen. His face was masculine and friendly. He simply pointed to Mrs. Howard’s office and said, “Interview.” He smiled and Hannah’s heart leaped. She managed to say, “Good luck.” He nodded back.

The one word answers continued for another six months.

The ladies waited for him to say something. He didn’t. They waited for him to come out of the little office. He didn’t. Judy helped with the books so she went inside the office from time to time, but she said he never talked to her except for business. He smiled. He was polite and friendly in a non-verbal way, but no words.

Hannah wondered if he liked her, then she wondered if he liked girls. Her fears were banished during the first staff meeting of the month. They met in a small room with chairs around the walls in a circle. Mrs. Howard encouraged them to talk with the customers and help them find the fabric and thread they wanted.

Hannah and Tom sat across from each other. The meeting had been moving forward as fast as a snail on a slippery board when Hannah looked up.

Tom was looking at her legs. She’d worn a short skirt that day and as sitting with her legs crossed. He skirt had hiked up her legs just a little. She saw his eyes studying her legs and reflexively thought about pulling her skirt down and uncrossing her legs. Her practical mind rescued her. She thought, "He's a man. He may not be paying attention to me romantically, but he's certainly paying attention. I'm not going to waste this opportunity."

She moved her legs from one side to the other and adjusted her skirt to show more then less of her legs. She was careful not to look at him. She thought, "Not yet. Not yet." She paused and nodded to herself. "Just one more thing. I'm a person not a thing. He has to look at my face so I can show him I'm human and a woman and that I like his attention."

She patiently waited, watching him like a mother with a sick child, until he glanced at her face. She had to catch him quickly. She knew he'd realize he was looking directly at another person and shut himself off. She smiled the best and warmest smile she was capable of. She radiated approval and enjoyment. She saw him linger on her eyes for just a second and the smallest breath of a smile leap onto his face.

After that, he still didn’t talk to her much, but staff meetings were more interesting.

She didn’t see it at the time, but one of the other women in the room frowned then glowered at her when she when she made contact with Tom.


The Man with the gun told Hannah to lift her skirt. He walked into the shop just at closing and pointed a gun at Tom and her. She froze.

She resented that. The criminal would see her legs and Tom, the man who didn’t talk and hadn’t asked her out, was too distracted to pay attention. He seemed intent on getting them both killed. She hesitated.

The man gestured with the barrel of the gun. “Let’s see what’s underneath, babe.” His voice was amused.

Hannah raised her light blue skirt half way up her legs. She looked down at her legs then up at the man.

He shook his head. “Come on, babe. Let me see something. Higher.”

Hannah glanced at Tom, and her heart froze. He wasn’t looking at her. He was looking at the man and leaning forward. Hannah did two things at once. She jerked her skirt all the way up, and told Tom, “No.”

The man swiveled his gun toward Tom and said, “Don’t even think about it, sport.” He paused until Tom stopped moving. When he was satisfied that Tom had temporarily calmed down, he gestured to Hannah to turn around.

He studied Hannah’s body as she stepped around in a circle. His eyes filled with mean hunger. Without looking away from Hannah, he said, “Sport, I’m not going to touch her. I got orders, and I got something better waiting for me so don’t get yourself killed over something that’s not going to happen.” He shook his head. “Damn, I’d like to though. Damn, I’d like to.”

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