Title: Curbside Heart to Hearts and Rubber Ducks

Summary: My angst needed to be released, and unfortunately, he was the first person to come around. So I spilled all my secrets to him on that New York City curb. It's that rubber duck's fault, I tell you… One-shot.

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The day was just like any day in New York City. The sun was out, business men and women were crowding the subways, and tourists were literally swarming the streets. After a long day of shopping, I, Lexianne Hammond, was tired.

I had been out all day looking for gifts that could possibly please a set of quadruplets, all of which were girls and seventeen years old. Her nieces all had different personalities. Kiana was the independent, "if you mess with me, I'll mess your face up so bad even your mother wouldn't recognize you" type of girl. Reese was the environmentalist, good girl who never failed to please her parents. She was a bubbly girl who never failed to smile. Jan was the girly girl, who reminded me of a girl I loathed in high school. And finally, Yvanna was the girl who did everything wrong, but managed to make everything right in the end. Yvanna in particular reminded me of myself.

In spite of their differences, I loved them all the same. Although because of their differences, I had been out since 9 in the morning, perusing every shelf in almost every store, searching for the perfect gift for each one.

I stopped at an intersection, squinting up at the sun. It was directly overhead, meaning it was noontime. In my intense examination of the sun's position, I had failed to notice a man cut off the straps of my purse and ran away with it. Someone tapped my shoulder, and I looked at the source of the intrusion of personal space. Colored circles dotted my vision.

"Miss, he just stole your purse," the woman informed me politely, pointing to a man walking down the sidewalk frantically.

"Hey! You!" I yelled out in alarm. I looked down at my heels. 'Damnit, I can't run in these!' I thought, frustrated. "Someone stop that man! He just stole my purse!"

Of course, nobody moved to help me out. I growled furiously, taking off my heels, preparing to run after the man.

"Miss, do you need help?" a curt voice asked from over my shoulder. I turned my head and was met by startling grey-blue eyes.

"Yes, actually, someone just ran off with my purse," I replied dazedly, "which happens to contain my… credit cards." I blinked for a second as this fact washed over me. Tears then began forming at the corners of my eyelids. I started cursing up a storm, using every possible expletive in every possible language that I knew. I threw my shoe at the wall and the lack of damage the impact caused on my shoe furthered my rage. People began to stare. The man who was the owner of the grey-blue eyes waved for them to keep on walking. They seemed to want to stay behind to watch the scene, but one look at the man and they increased their pace onwards. The man then began talking quietly with an officer, who then spoke to me. The officer asked me for a description of the thief, and I did the best I could, seeing as I had only seen the back of his form. The officer then hopped on his motorcycle and sped off in search of the thief.

After he had disappeared from view, I sort of swayed on the spot before falling heavily to the concrete ground below me. I didn't care if people were watching, or if someone would steal my bags. This event just sort of emphasized how steadily horrible my life was turning out to be. It looks like karma was coming around to get me, and it was dealing its blows in spades.

"Is something wrong, Miss?" the man who had helped me out inquired politely. I don't know what convinced me to spill all my secrets to him on that New York City corner. Maybe it was his incredible listening. Or maybe it was because of that friggin' rubber duck that I then held in my hand…

Either way, I began to reveal my entire life story to him. How my childhood had been good, normal, without taint. How everything started turning bad when I graduated from college. I told him how I had caught my boyfriend of two years cheating on me a scarce few months after graduation. I told him how I had to take care of nieces because my sister and her husband had been killed in a way that they were just at the exact wrong place at the wrong time – below a collapsing bridge in gridlock.

I even told him how Reese was suffering from leukemia and may not live to see her eighteenth birthday. I spoke about how the rubber ducks always reminded her of home because Reese was constantly in the hospital. I narrated about my other three nieces who constantly stretching themselves thin were working in different jobs after school because I could only provide the simple necessities to be able to pay for Reese's hospital bills. I told him of the fact that I was the only one the quadruplets had left to take care of them. I choked out in sobs of how my own parents had died two years ago; my father from lung cancer, and my mother out of pure grief and bone weariness. I'd also told him how it was my best friend that I had caught my ex-boyfriend cheating with.

Through my outpouring of angst and tears, he had listened. I took a deep breath, using the moment to examine him. Maybe it was because of all the turmoil that was growing inside me that caused me not to notice how attractive the man was. 'His name is Robert Hatcher,' I berated myself mentally. Robert had already given me his name earlier, but I failed to use it because of my own selfish reasons. Now, though, I had time to consider him.

And Robert Hatcher was a very attractive male specimen. 'Makes him sound like a slice of beefcake,' I thought amusedly. If he was a beefcake, he was one sexy beefcake. He had a beautiful pair of grey-blue eyes that was accented by long, dark eyelashes. His hair was of a jet black color and his skin evenly tanned. I noticed three lines of wrinkles on his forehead. A business man, he has to be a business man. His mouth could be described as kissable, although his nose was slightly off-center, which was probably a result of some sort of injury. He had broad shoulders and, from what I could tell from his stiff business suit, firm upper body muscles. His business suit was neat and clean, as opposed to my rumpled skirt and jacket. His hair looked messily combed, yet still looked put together. I envied that. It usually takes me a good half-an-hour to work out all the tangles that get in my hair after a shower, or in the morning. His overall appearance made him look like a member of the Men in Black, yet his style made me think of a young corporate business heir. He looked like the type of man that slept with his secretaries, to tell you the truth.

He must have noticed my silence and my careful observation of him because he began to smirk. He opened his mouth – I honestly thought he was going to spew some sort of innuendo. I was surprised when he started telling me about his life. I found out that day that Robert Hatcher had a very lively childhood. He had been raised mostly by his football-worshipping father because his mother had left their family shortly after his birth. He narrated, with liberal amounts of bitterness, the fact that his mother refused to get tied down by some sort of child. Nevertheless, his father had given him boundless amounts of love (tough love it may have been, but it was love). Through high school and college, he had played football as a quarterback. By the time he was a senior, he had been the number one draft pick for the NFL. After playing in the league for two seasons, he was hailed as the best of the new blood by announcers everywhere. His football career had been cut short by a leg muscle injury that never quite truly healed. After that, he had been living off his earnings for a year, being bitter about life in a quiet apartment in Boston. It had taken a very jaw-breaking punch from his best friend to get off his ass and piece his life back together. He began a small business (he had graduated college with a Bachelor's degree in business) and slowly, the small business climbed until it surpassed everyone's expectations. He refused to tell me what business he ran, saying, "You'll find out soon enough." Very cryptic, if you ask me.

He also told me of the worse parts in his life. His father passing away a few months ago from a heart attack, divorcing his wife of two years because there was no love in their marriage, and finally, his mother coming back and begging for forgiveness. He told me how he had refused to forgive her, simply because he had found out of her ulterior motive – to be able to dip in his money without restraint. After he finished, we sat (I really had no idea when he had eventually sat down next to me during our elaborate sharing of our lives) on the concrete in contemplative silence.

"So what are we going to do now?" I finally spoke bitterly. "You know all my damn secrets and I know all of yours. God, if you're some TV exec staking out victims of karma, I swear I will sue your damn show so much you would blink and all your money would be gone. If not, I'm totally sorry, I'm not that cruel, really, I'm not! If you never want to see me again--"

"How about I take you to dinner?" he interrupted smoothly.

"… I would totally understa—what?"

"Dinner," he repeated slowly. "Is that concept foreign to you?"

"Dinner," I echoed in a parrot-like tone. "Uhh… right. Dinner. Well. Um."

"Ma'am, we've retrieved your purse," an officer suddenly came up somewhere to my left, holding said item out and panting. The officer must have found the thief and chased the man down on foot.

"Oh, thank you, sir!" I exclaimed in gratitude. The officer made to comment but simply closed his mouth, tipped his hat, and went on his merry way. Unbeknownst to me, Robert had flicked his wrist, dismissing the officer with a tight-lipped half-grimace, half-smile. So wrapped up in eternal gratefulness to the officer I was, that I had forgotten Robert's earlier query.

"'Yes' and 'No' are the most common words used to answer the question, Lex," Robert enunciated sluggishly, as if relating the information to a five-year-old.

"Yes, I know. I mean, no. Err, no, yes. I really meant yes, but—" I stopped abruptly. "Did you just call me Lex?" Robert nodded carefully, as if dreading what stuttering mess I would erupt into this time.

"Sure, I'd love to go to dinner with you, Mr. Hatcher," I answered formally.

"Great," Robert said, a pleased look in his eyes. "Tonight at seven then, my place?" I agreed and he helped me up off the cold, hard concrete.

"What's your address?" I blurted out before he could turn away to leave. He glanced back at me and raised an eyebrow. I fumbled with my sleeve with the pads of my fingers. "You know, so I know where I'm supposed to be going."

He smiled at me this time, a close-lipped smile, but a genuine one. "I'll pick you up," he promised.

"Alright, well… um… bye then," I finished lamely. The smile remained on his face as he lifted a hand in farewell. As he began to move, my mouth again decided to make its presence known.

"Wait!" I called out unintentionally. Robert returned his attention to me once more, and I blushed under his scrutiny. After fiddling with my shopping bags for a moment, I freed up my right hand to touch his right cheek, placing a chaste kiss on the other. It only lasted a moment, but it was enough to make me blush an even darker shade of red.

"At seven." I beamed then, the tears finally dry and my voice clear from stuttering.

"At seven," he repeated, affirming our new relationship. Robert walked away, probably to go to where he was originally heading to but had been delayed by me here on this curb. I couldn't stop smiling. I hadn't been this happy in a long time.

As I picked up the remainders of my shopping bags, I took a glance at the rubber duck inside one of them.

"Who knew you'd be of any use?" I muttered at it in a low voice. I lifted my chin, straightened my back, and tossed my hair back. It's all about confidence, Lex. I grinned at the nickname. I've always had a fondness for nicknames. Lex. Lex Lex Lex Lex.

"I could get used to that," I mumbled to myself. "Rubber ducky, you're the one… You make bath time so much fun…"