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She let go of my arm. “It’s amazing how much better this day keeps not getting.”
I let go of her elbow but kept my arm protectively across her waist. “I know I haven’t earned your trust, but I’m just going to ask you to believe me on this one. Everything will be okay if you just stay on your back and don’t move.”
“That’s what all my clients say.”
“Can you just promise to stay down? Please?”
“I promise to stay down,” she said. “It appears I don’t really have a choice in the matter, do I?”
At last, I removed my arm. “I have a restraining order against him,” I explained as I massaged my fresh flesh wounds. “If he comes within one hundred feet of me, he goes to jail. Which means he can’t climb onto the hood of my car and take a picture. But if either of us sits up straight or gets out, he can legally take as many pictures of us as he wants with his long-range camera and there’s not a damn thing we can do about it.”
“You can’t just call your daddy and have the guy killed?”
“You know what?” I said, beginning to lose my patience. “The sarcasm really isn’t helping me find us a way out of this. So do you think you could lose the attitude for five freaking seconds? Do you think you could do that for me, Clara?”
CHAPTER 25
Clara
I think I could not. My mother had once observed that if MTV ever decided to rebootJersey Shore, I could be cast as Clara “The Attitude” Zapata. And believe me, once someone flipped on the Zapatatude switch, it was pretty hard to turn it back off again.
“You’regoing to figure out a way to get us out of this?” I said.
“Yes.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“The man who couldn’t figure out a way to get into his own house.”
“That was a fluke.”
“Or his own car.”
“I admit that intellectually this hasn’t been the proudest day of my life,” he said, his tone pissier by the minute. “But need I remind you that I didn’t exactly get what you’d call a good night’s sleep last night? But in spite of all that, I’m trying to do you a favor—”
“Do me a favor and don’t do me any favors,” I snapped. “You’ve already made today the worst day of my life, which is no small accomplishment considering what tomorrow was supposed to be.”
“Do you think I’m enjoying this?” he said. “Because I’d rather spend a week trapped in a prison cell with a hyena than spend another minute in this car with you!”
“And I’d rather spend a week trapped in an elevator with a fart than spend another minute with you!”
“You know what?” he said. “Go ahead. Do it. Sit up and show Carter your face. Or better yet, just leave. I’m trying to protect you from getting your picture splattered all over the internet a thousand more times, but if existing in the same space as me is so goddamned tortuous, you’re welcome to go on your merry way.”
“What does it matter how many more pictures hit cyberspace? The whole world already knows I’m a two-dollar whore. How could a few more pictures on PerezHilton.com make it any worse than it already is?”
Grabbing his phone, he scrolled through his texts and clicked on a link. “Here,” he said. “Look at the picture.”
I looked. “Why are you showing me a picture of a naked woman?”
He grabbed back the phone and clicked another link.
“I meant this one,” he said, showing me the picture of him paying me two bucks for my services.
I turned away. “Thanks, I’ve seen it.”
“Just look at it,” he said. “Please.”
