Isaac winked. “You’re a redhead with a heart of gold. Like Pippi Longstocking. Or the Little Mermaid. Or Fiona fromShrek—”
“Please stopattemptingto compliment me. You’re only making it worse.”
She unearthed the jack from beneath a bag of aluminum cans she’d be taking to the recycling center (eventually) and a beach towel of unknown origin, then kneeled in front of the flat, picturing the kind of life where she could afford to say no to an extra nineteen dollars and a free coffee.
Once the donut was fitted to the rear wheel on Isaac’s Jetta, Lainey climbed back inside her car, yanked the door shut, and rated Isaac one star.
“I didn’t realize you rateduson these things,” Olive Rain Jacket Guy said from the back seat.
Lainey pressed her forehead against the steering wheel as though the cool, hard object held the power to protect her from this particular humiliation. Her seat was damp, and her hands were as slippery as they were perplexingly gritty. All she wanted was to go home and climb into bed, but there was still a stranger in her car who required a ride.
She bravely lifted her head to respond. “You rate us. We rate you. It’s a balanced social contract.”
A tense silence fell between them, as though she’d suddenly transformed from a chimpanzee in a chauffeur cap to a moody gorilla with a penchant for tearing off her passenger’s faces.
She rolled her shoulders back and jerked the sticky gear shift out of park. Uber Black drivers probably didn’t get conned into changing tires in exchange for positive ratings and coffee coupons.
Lainey tapped her phone’s map to start the next route. A new name appeared on her screen:Elliot.
“So, Elliot,” she said, enjoying the sound of his name on her lips. “Would you be so kind as to leave this part of the ride off your review?”
She fixed her eyes back on the road as the woman in her GPS directed her to turn right.
“Because I’m not normally…” Lainey let her voice trail off.
“Are you planning to finish that sentence?” Elliot asked.
“I was going to say ‘I’m not normally messy like that,’ but this isn’t even the first time I’ve yelled at a passenger in front of another passenger, so…”
She rubbed her temple, wanting nothing more than for the gesture to magic her back home. She could already feel theglimmering aura of a migraine coming on, which was truly an insult to injury as she was currently rationing her last six pills of the one medication that provided any sort of relief. The only insurance plan that covered them was, to the best of her knowledge, reserved for high-level federal government employees and first-round NBA draft picks, so when it came to managing her chronic condition, she was, in a clinical sense, shit out of luck.
Her backseat passenger was quiet the rest of the drive until the app directed them into an empty Kwik Trip parking lot. The chime sounded again.
“This is your destination?” she asked him. “AmIthe one getting kidnapped? My oh my, how the tables have turned.”
He laughed. It was a nice sound. The quiet rumble of coals shifting in a fire on this miserable day. “Expecting something better?” he challenged.
She stepped out of her car, offering her palm to him as he climbed into the front seat. “You’ve seen Norm’s urinal advertisements, so you must be aware that Timber Creek has so much more to offer you.”
“The Museum of Vintage Taxidermy and Other Curiositieswasvery tempting.” Elliot stepped onto the oil-stained pavement under the gas station canopy, looking just as unfairly good looking from this new vantage point. He was tall—any taller and it would’ve been something she’d feel compelled to remark on—and the eyes hiding behind his glasses were a hypnotic chocolate brown with ribbons of gold. His gaze caught hers like a latch on a zip tie, and suddenly it seemed as if the world was cinching around them.
“I’m here to pick up my car,” he explained.
The sentence sliced the moment with a pair of shears.
“Right,” she replied through pursed lips.
It shouldn’t have surprised her. Plenty of tourists opted to rent. Lainey was the sole cabbie on a rideshare app that was spreading malware to her contact list. What surprised her was how disappointed she felt at the prospect ofthisguy renting a car for what was left of his stay in Timber Creek. This was probably the last she’d see of the man in the olive rain jacket.
“I should probably…” She fidgeted next to the still-open door, worried she’d missed a moment of natural transition back into their roles as driver and passenger. She faced the opening, prepared to drive away forever, when an arm appeared between her and the car.
“Don’t worry about your rating,” he said confidently. His body angled itself toward hers, making her insides swoop. “That guy probably deserved the one star. Anyone can see you’re a very decent person, and he was clearly taking advantage of that.”
An involuntary snort blew out of her. “When it comes to me, people tend to think it’s the other way around.”
His forehead wrinkled like he was taking her accusation seriously. “Is that right?” He took a step forward, and she took a step back until the car pressed against her spine.
There was no one particular feature on Elliot’s face that Lainey found so striking. It was simply the way he stood. The way his brows furrowed and his eyes softened when she spoke, as though he was actually listening and not waiting for the next pause to jump on. The way his jaw widened ever so slightly when he smiled. He was just…easy to look at.
