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"I don't think those will work today, Tal," I sigh, eyeing the cables.
She shakes her head. "These? They're just a prop. I've already called a tow for this heap. Get in; I'm driving you to your dad's."
I hop into her passenger seat, my hair still damp.
As we hit the road, Talia blasts a 90s hit and accelerates. "You know, for someone in an old pickup, you sure drive like it's a sports car," I tease.
She chuckles. "Hey, it's what I can afford and it gets the job done."
"Thanks for the save," I say. "I'd probably be thumbing it to Dad's rehab otherwise."
Talia, eyes on the road, laughs. "And risk you hopping into a van with a stranger offering candy? Given your sweet tooth, you'd be in a real-life crime show scenario in seconds. No thanks." She pauses. “By the way, how's your dad?”
I gaze out the window. "Stubborn as ever. But after his fall, things haven't been the same. And the bills, Talia—they just keep coming."
We ride in silence for a moment, the road noise filling the space between us.
“The old Honda, though," Talia breaks the silence with a grin. "Had character. Remember sweet-talking it on cold mornings?"
I laugh. "Yeah, 'Please, Betsy, not today.' Felt like negotiating with a toddler. Honestly, that car had more personality than most people. But I think it's finally done for. Sucks, doesn't it?"
Talia laughs, her eyes sparkling with memories. "Well, now you've got a reliable ride for visiting your dad."
I nod, grateful. "Thanks again for covering my rent last week." I pause. "I'll pay you back as soon as possible."
"Don't sweat it," Talia says, hands on the steering wheel. "I remember being twenty-five. Heck, thirty's not any easier. And I'm not swimming in cash either. Running my event planning business is hardly a gold mine with all the expenses. My dad never misses a chance to remind me."
"My mom would agree with him. Ever since I ditched law school, she's been nagging me about getting a 'stable' job."
"Oh, the joys. My parents still don't get what event planning is. They keep wondering when I'll land a 'real' job."
We laugh, the tension melting away. In just a year, we've bonded over bad decisions, terrible TV, and good wine.
Talia's been there for me, whether I needed financial help or just someone to vent to about my family. And I might need her support even more if my summer nannying job goes south.
Driving through downtown Seattle, a question burns in me.
"I'm doing the right thing by working for Aidan Sullivan... right?"
Talia smiles, sunlight catching on the thrifted rings on her slender fingers. "Absolutely. It's not your dream job, but it'll get you experience and some cash." She raises an eyebrow. "Unless..."
"Unless what?"
"Unless you think you can't handle Aidan Sullivan?"
"Besides his gruff exterior and chilly reputation? No, no other reason," I say. "Honestly, Aidan Sullivan is Seattle's version of the Beast from Beauty and the Beast. Half expecting his mansion to be enchanted, with talking candlesticks and a magical rose."
"And the fact he's incredibly attractive?"
"Who, the Beast?"
"No!" Talia laughs. "Aidan Sullivan." She looks at me. "You didn't notice?"
"All I've noticed is that if the man were given a dollar for every time he smiles, he'd be poorer than I am."
I'm joking, but it's partly true. Aidan Sullivan may be handsome, but his serious nature and constant frown make it hard to notice.
"I think you're just intimidated by him," Talia teases as we pull into the rehab center's parking lot, where my dad's scheduled for physical therapy. "I've worked events with the Seattle Storm, trust me, you're not alone."
