Page 57 of Down Shift (Driven 8)
“She sure does have a good eye, doesn’t she?” I murmur in agreement even though I already know she hasn’t gone to any estate sales.
The piles of clothes around her room. My assumption that she was a spoiled trust fund kid with so many designer threads she didn’t need to take care of them. The obvious burner cell phone. The lack of interest in having Internet access.
She’s not just starting over after a messy divorce. She’s running from someone.
I’m such an asshole. Like a royal prick of an asshole.
It’s the thought that’s on repeat in my mind as I try to wrap up the conversation with Mable, who keeps chatting away.
Getty’s not a spoiled brat in the least. Her only use for the clothes from her past is to sell them to help secure her new future.
Like selling clothes to get her car repaired. Talk about feeling like a jerk after my “call Daddy and ask for money” comment the other night.
Yes. That’s me. Asshole with a capital A.
“I can give her the check, Mable. I’ll just set it inside on the counter for her.” It’s the least I can do. Her eyes narrow, and I kind of like that she cares enough about Getty that she’s worrying over whether to trust me. If she only knew the purse I win in a single victory on the track. “I assure you I’m not going to take it.”
“You sure?”
I should feel insulted, but I don’t. “I promise.”
She looks down at the sealed envelope in her hand and then extends it out to me. “Okay, well, you make sure she gets it. She’s a sweet girl and deserves for good things to happen for her.”
“Agreed. I’m glad she has you looking out for her, Mable.”
* * *
I let out a whoop as Getty’s car sputters to life. It may have taken longer than I figured it would between Mable’s pit stop and a quick run over to the auto parts store for some oil to service her car while I was at it, but mission accomplished.
And I’ll take anything to make me feel useful, considering my carpentry skills are definitely still being called into question and I feel like a fish out of water away from my everyday life. That damn deck is going to be the death of me.
When I rev the engine a few times, the sound reaffirms that I’m a bit less of a dick since Getty can save that money Mable brought her today for something more important, like treating herself.
After I let the car idle for a few minutes to make sure she’s running okay, I turn her off in order to get cleaned up in time to pick Getty up from her shift. I owe her an apology but don’t know how to go about bringing it up without the walls around her going up too.
When I slide out of the car and out from behind the raised hood, I do a double take at the black luxury town car parked across the street with dark tinted windows. I stare at it momentarily, thinking how out of place it seems in this quaint little town, before shutting the hood and heading for the shower.
Time to eat some crow, Donavan.
Maybe I need a beer first to make it go down a little smoother.
Or maybe I just want to watch the woman who’s pouring it for me.
My bet’s on the one that wears the sexy socks.
Chapter 17
GETTY
“I’ve got a surprise for you.” I grow still at the sound of Zander’s voice at my back and have to close my eyes momentarily. Tears of frustration over the encounter with my father have been burning the back of my throat for hours, and yet the immediate relief at knowing Zander’s here tells me how much I’ve grown to depend on him in a sense.
And with the relief comes a reminder of last night’s dream in full 3-D color. Oh God help me. There’s no way I can look him in the eyes and not blush. Or think about the imaginary warmth of his mouth on my breasts. Hands on my thighs. Tongue on my—
“Getty?”
When I turn around from straightening bottles behind the bar, the first thing I see is that boyish grin of his. It distracts me momentarily as it tugs on my heart in ways I never expected. I look up to meet his eyes and blush like a kid with her hand caught in the cookie jar, guilt presumably written all over my face.
Our eyes hold for a moment, his searching, mine feigning normalcy, and in that flash of a second, I realize the anxiety I’ve felt all day over my father’s arrival is gone. While it may be a momentary respite, it’s pretty powerful that Zander can do that for me.
