Mr. Bad Boy driver opens the car door and motions for me to get in as Jules hands me my sketches along with theitemsthat fell out of mypurse.
Heat rushes to my cheeks as I toss the tampons into mypurse.
“Now, you’re certain you’re alright, eh? You landed quite hard,” Jules asks as I hastily slide into the backseat of thecar.
“Yes, Jules, I’m sure.” I lean in close to him before saying, “Thanks for covering my ass,” in a hushedtone.
He cocks his head to the side and says, “Of course, LB. Shall I put a call into André at your office to let him know you’ll be needing a newphone?”
“Yes, that would be perfect,thanks.”
Jules nods, closes the car door, and waves as the car speedsoff.
And I suddenly have this uncanny desire to hop into my own car and drivemyself.
