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“Maybe I’ll go to the beach. I don’t know anyone here.” This is sad. I sound pitiful and I hate it. I’m an independent woman and this will not break me. “Maybe I’ll go to some motel.”
With what money?
“No.” Two letter words slice through the air like a sharp machete.
Eyeing him, “What do you suggest I do?” I search my jeans for some cash in the meantime, praying for a hundred-dollar bill to pop like a rabbit from my pockets.
I love rabbits.
They’re calm.
I take a deep breath in and exhale it slowly. Nodding to myself, an upside-down grin pops on my face. I’m cool as a cucumber that has been sentenced to become a pickle. It’s just a curve in the road, I’m still alive and well.
“You can stay at my place. It’s a pretty spacious house… views the ocean.” He replies and the determination is written all over his features.
“I don’t want to intrude.” Yet my body doesn’t like my answer when it tingles in excitement so I fix my strands. “Except you’re my boss.” Isn’t it weird to sleep at your boss’s house on the first day you’ve been accepted to your new job?
Also, after you chatted online about all sorts of dirty things for months.
Well, I’m homeless now so I don’t know what to think and my pocket only produced a twenty-dollar bill, a gum, and a band-aid.
My purse is snuggling against my pillow. In. My. Van.
The silver lining is that I can buy pizza.
“First, nonsense, you need help and I have extra room. Second, I hate that word. You’re my co-worker. I rely on you just as much and I could use your help. Third, you can’t tattoo our clients if you haven’t had a good night’s sleep. I won’t let you. So it’s a lesson as well.”
His legitimate clarification beckons me to accept.
I’m impressed. For someone who doesn’t say much unless it’s part of the conversation, he is a hell of a persuader.
It doesn’t seem like I have a choice. I don’t have friends here. I don’t know anyone. And I do know him… Ish.
“Sold! I’ll be your new roomy for today.”
“In that case, that way.”
Putting his hand on the small of my back, he ushers me to his parking space and opens the passenger door of his black Jeep Wrangler.
I hop on the seat and he closes the door behind me.
My heart thumps as he rounds the hood and climbs inside, flooding the cabin space with his cologne that screams masculinity in a subtle, yet addictive way.
Turning the ignition, he smoothly backs out of the parking lot and heads to the highway.
I stare outside the car’s window, the bile still whisks in my stomach but I manage to stay optimistic, knowing I can retrieve Bette and it’s not the end of the world.
Pointing to a black Dodge Charger that is flying past us, I note, “Sexy muscle car with sick horsepower, nice!” I focus on lighter topics.
I look away but I know Dean’s eyes are on me, I can feel him studying my ardent expression as he pushes the shifter.
“You’re into classics?”
I swallow my saliva.
“Sure do! If my old Volkswagen is any indication.” I declare with a sly grin. “Her name is Bette.”
A tiny chuckle slips out his mouth while he shakes his head sideways.
