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“Slim to none,” he said vehemently. “That car is the only thing I own that means anything at all to me. I’ve had her since high school. Do you know how much work it takes to keep a ’Vette that old running?”
“I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Clara said, lacing her tone with practiced calm. “I got a job and I need to work my way up to commuting.” Her mother had taught her that any negotiation could be solved with reason and controlled voices.
“Wow. You work fast.” Josh brightened. “It’s great that you got a job, and listen, I know you’re not from around here, but asking to borrow someone’s car in L.A. is a massive deal.”
“It would only be for a few hours,” she assured him. “I’ll work around your schedule, and of course I’ll pay fo
r gas. I could even get it washed. Maybe get the tires rotated?” She elbowed him like an old-timey salesman. “What do you think?”
“You don’t understand how much I love that car. Can’t you think of another favor I could do for you? Are you sure you don’t want to fuck?”
Clara’s fork clattered to the ground and they bumped heads when they both reached for it.
“Sorry,” he said weakly. “That was a bad joke. I forgot you were . . . you.” He moved and fetched her new silverware. “Why don’t you have your own car? I know you moved from New York.” He waved away her interjection. “But why wasn’t ‘get a car’ on your little laminated checklist?”
She fiddled with one of the hooks on her overalls. “I knew I would need to drive eventually. L.A. traffic is famous, but Everett said I could borrow his Jeep and I thought I’d have more time to practice.” The confession cost Clara her appetite.
“Well, hey, you could get a lease. I’ll even drive you to the dealership.” He gave her a brief once-over. “We’ll get you set up in a nice VW Bug with one of those stickers for the window that says Student Driver or Baby on Board or something.”
“I don’t think I can get a lease yet. I’ve got that . . . emotional impediment to driving, remember? That’s why I wanted to borrow your car, to see if I could handle getting behind the wheel at all. I would take it around the neighborhood. Nothing crazy. I’d hire an instructor, but I’m worried I might—”
“Crash?” He nodded sympathetically.
“—lose my nerve,” Clara finished. “It’s embarrassing enough admitting my weakness to you. I don’t need to throw another stranger into the mix if the point is moot.” She chased a blueberry around the plate with her fork. “I figured that since you’ve already seen me in flagrante delicto, the embarrassment veil is lifted.”
Josh frowned. “Is that a fancy way of saying I gave you an orgasm? Because like I told you, that was no big deal.”
Clara ignored his piercing comment. She didn’t need a reminder of how little last night meant to him. “I got a job helping some people I really care about. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’m desperate. It’ll probably take all of five minutes. I’ll sit in the car, freak out, and then we can throw driving on top of the list of failures I am rapidly accumulating.”
Josh resumed eating. “I don’t get it. Why are you so sure you can’t drive? I know you have a license. I saw it the other day when you bought wine at the grocery store.”
“I caused an accident,” Clara finally admitted, the words ripped out of her. “It was a couple of nights before cotillion. That’s like a fancy society event,” she said in answer to his blank look. “I was late to rehearsal and I was so worried that if I didn’t show up, Everett would end up escorting someone else.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Everett Bloom?”
“The one and only.”
Josh sighed. “You know, I’m starting to think that guy sucks.”
“The exit was coming up fast, and I needed to change lanes. I hate changing lanes. I can never time it correctly. In the end, I turned on my blinker and hoped for the best. I don’t recommend that strategy.”
“Hey, accidents happen.”
She struggled to control her breathing. “My younger brother, Oliver, was in the passenger seat. He ended up with fourteen stitches, a bruised collarbone, and a broken arm.”
“Clara,” Josh said gently, “even good drivers make mistakes.”
“Mistakes?” She let out a tight, painful laugh. “I’ve got terrible instincts. Whatever inner voice other people have telling them what to do, mine’s broken. Every time I try to follow my intuition, someone gets hurt. For a long time, I couldn’t get behind the wheel without hearing Oliver scream.”
She tried to shake away the memories but only managed to set flour raining from her hair.
“You’re being too hard on yourself. You were a kid.”
“I had a series of expensive instructors over the years, but it was always the same story. My father wrote me off as a lost cause. Told me to move to New York where I could take the subway and hail a cab.”
Clara’s shoulders slumped forward. “Look, I’m being pragmatic. I’ve never been able to do it before. It stands to reason I won’t be able to do it now. But I told Jill I would try, and I don’t want to be another family member who lets her down.” She stared at her plate. “I realize you have no reason to help me, that I’m already more trouble than you’d prefer, but since you haven’t actually said no yet, I’m gonna ask one more time. Please, Josh?”
He squinted at the ceiling. “You want it bad, huh?”
