“Ooh.” She perked up. “Norm promoted me to the spot next to the penis pills?”
His chuckle was light. A breath of air. “You’ve been working your way up to that spot, huh?”
“Above the urinals is prime advertising real estate in this town. It’s our version of a highway billboard.”
He lifted his glasses to his lips, exhaling a warm breath onto the lenses. “I had no idea there was so much market research involved in bathroom flyers.”
“Absolutely,” she answered, flicking on her blinker. “I thought I’d plateaued at the bulletin board between the piano lessons and the rooms for rent. Good to know I made it out of hallway purgatory.”
She lifted her chin up to spy his reaction in the mirror.
“Congratulations,” he said with tilted lips. “Do you have a background in advertising?”
“More of a hobbyist,” she replied coyly. Lainey made it a point to never get too friendly with tourists, but she couldn’t seem to help herself with Olive Rain Jacket Guy. His voice stretched at the vowels, making him sound vaguely East Coast–y, but he possessed a timeless handsomeness that she’d thought was reserved for British men in period dramas. It was his jaw or maybe his cheekbones. He definitely had the bone structure of a man who penned letters by candlelight, a look that wasn’t exactly characteristic of the surrounding region. This man seemedso out of place in her back seat. She couldn’t figure out how he fit here, in her town, and during the offseason, no less.
Her app chimed to signal that they’d arrived at a destination.
“Just pull in here.” Isaac pointed out a warehouse on the edge of town.
Lainey’s shoulders jolted at the reminder that Isaac was still in the front seat. She’d almost forgotten how this ride had begun until suddenly they were pulling up next to his car.
Isaac stared back at her expectantly.
She looked at him, confused, then her eyes wandered from him to his car’s rear—very flat—tire.
“No.”
Isaac looked back at her, infuriatingly unbothered. “Grab the jack from your trunk and it’ll take us two minutes. Tops. We’ve gotten so good at it!”
“I should not be good at changingyourtire, Isaac. Why does this keep happening? Your dad owns a VW dealership.”
“He’ll give me a new car when I agree to join the family business, but I can’t. It’s not my passion.”
“You work at a beanbag store in an outlet mall!”
Olive Rain Jacket Guy poked his head between them. “I can help him with—”
“Absolutely not,” she snapped, before realizing she’d sent her ire in the direction of a tourist who might’ve otherwise tipped her. “Sorry. This is an ongoing…thing between the two of us. A fundamental misunderstanding on the appropriate uses of a rideshare app.”
“I’d do it for you,” Isaac argued.
“I’m positive that’s not true.” And even if it were, Lainey wasn’t the type to bank on favors.
With an inhale through her nose, she chose the path of least resistance. “I want fifty dollars cash right now.”
“I have nineteen dollars and a coupon for a free Caribou Coffee.”
Her tongue prodded the hollow of her cheek as she reflected on every one of her poor decisions, lining them up like dominoes and watching them topple her into this exact moment. “Any drink?”
He nodded.
She sighed. “Fine.”
Isaac stared at her. “I need you to climb out first—”
She muttered a curse under her breath and flung open the door.
“This will only take a minute,” she assured Olive Rain Jacket Guy, who audibly swallowed, his discomfort palpable. There went any hope of a tip. Raindrops plopped on the crown of her head as she made her way to her trunk. “You better leave me five stars on the app.”
