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“Your employee’s car on the way here was flashier,” I teased, scooting over to make room for Merrick.
He pulled the door closed after getting in. “Is that a surprise, based on what you know about Will?”
“I guess not.”
“I think the cars most people choose match their personality. Will is definitely a stretch limo. Probably one with a sunroof and hot tub, too.”
I laughed. “Well, he does like attention, and he has a big personality.” A funny thought hit me. “Oh my God, your grandmother’s car—Kitty drives that souped-up red Dodge Charger convertible. I’ve always thought it was an odd car for an older woman, but now that I think about it, you’re right. It matches her personality to a T.”
“When she bought it, it didn’t come standard as a convertible. She had a body shop make it into one just for her. Before that, she drove a Ford Mustang. Always had a car with some muscle, and in a bright color.” Merrick shrugged. “Suits her.”
“Oh crap.” I covered my mouth with a laugh. “The car I had before I sold it to move to New York was a Prius.”
Merrick smiled. “Economical and practical. Fits the woman who barters things, I’d say. Wouldn’t you?”
“I guess… But a Prius is so ugly and unsexy.”
Merrick’s eyes flickered to my legs before lifting to linger on my mouth for a heartbeat too long. He swallowed. “It suits the personality. Not the appearance.”
I felt my skin blush and was thankful for the darkness. “Do you own a car, other than this Town Car you always seem to be driven in?”
“I do.”
“What kind?” I shook my head. “No, wait—let me guess.”
“This should be interesting…”
I tapped my finger to my lips. “Hmmm… Let’s see… I feel like it would be something expensive, but not flashy like a Ferrari or a Lamborghini. That’s more Will’s style.”
“First big bonus he earned, he bought a cherry red Ferrari.”
I laughed. “Of course he did. But that’s not you. I suppose a car like this would suit you—a simple Mercedes or a BMW or something in a luxury class. But I don’t feel like that’s it for some reason. Am I wrong?”
He shook his head. “You’re warm...”
I smiled. “I prefer to be called hot, but I’ll take it. Anyway, I think your car wouldn’t be just for driving around town. You use this Town Car for that. So whatever you drive probably has some meaning.” I paused. “Oh, I know! It’s a classic car.”
“Keep going…”
I rubbed my hands together. “I don’t know that much about cars, so I’m not sure I can tell you the make and model. But I can see you in one of those cars in old movies, the ones people take out for a Sunday drive in California. You know, the woman wears big sunglasses and a pretty scarf around her neck and looks like a celebrity. Maybe it’s a convertible. Probably a dark color with a saddle brown leather interior.”
Merrick shifted to one side and dug his cell from his pocket. He punched some keys and turned the phone to me. “Something like this?”
I pointed to his cell. “Exactly like that. What kind of a car is that?”
“A 1957 Jaguar convertible.”
“Okay. That’s what kind of car I can see you in.”
He shook his head. “That’s an actual picture of my car. I keep it in a garage not too far from the office.”
My eyes widened. “No way.”
He went to his photo app and swiped through a bunch of pictures before turning his cell to me again. The picture was black and white, but it looked like the same type of car. Two men stood proudly in front of it with their arms folded.
“That’s my grandfather and his buddy.”
I took the phone from his hand. “Is that Kitty’s Redmond?”
