Behind the Scenes(43)
I dial the office while I run down the front steps, one palm trailing down the hand rail.
“Simon Mulroney’s office.”
“Dana!” I shriek. “I’m running super late. I am so sorry.”
“Is everything okay?”
I briefly consider lying. “My alarm clock didn’t go off.”
So that’s a half lie, which is not as bad as a full out one. It went off, I just didn’t hear it for sixty minutes. Or rather, I thought it was the shrieking of some yodeler over on the mountain yon while I herded my goats.
“When do you think you’ll get here?”
“I’m almost halfway there.”
Halfway to the car, I mean.
“Okay, just get here as soon as you can. This morning is going to be crazy.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” she says, the word clipped. “See you soon.”
She hangs up. It’s just my luck that the one morning I’m late, I’m also actually needed at work. By the tone of Dana’s voice, I’m picking up the vibe that it won’t be a busy morning sending out Evites or dusting shelves.
My foot nervously taps against the floor as I pull the car onto my regular route. Should I have checked GPS first? Maybe traffic is lighter the back way and I can get there quicker.
No. It’s too late. I need to stick to my usual path.
I’m almost to the freeway when a horrible rumbling begins. It seems to be coming from the beat up truck in front of me, but as my Chevy edges along, I realize with horror that the sound is issuing from my little car.
The needle behind the steering wheel starts to go up, pushing itself all the way to the hot end of the gauge. I stare in terror, unable to believe this. I’m already late to work and my car is overheating.
Can I make it to the office? Is there some way I can just coast my dumb ass to that studio, park the car, and deal with my automobile troubles at five o’clock?
The needle is all the way to the top of the gauge now. Admitting defeat, I pull over into a drug store parking lot. Whipping my phone out of my backpack, I call Eryk.
He’s the best option for a last minute ride to work. I’m only five minutes out from our apartment. The problem is that it’s still morning time, which likely means one thing.
The phone rings and rings.
“Damn it, Eryk,” I mutter.
Can he not roll over in bed for once in his life and answer his phone? If it’s ringing this early, it’s probably an emergency, after all.
He doesn’t answer, and I angrily hang up. Crystal is already at work. Even if she could leave the rec center, it would take her over thirty minutes to get to me.
The only option is to call the office and have Dana send Chuck or Daniel to get me.
Then Divine Intervention happens. I get a text. It’s from Brendan.
Had a great time Saturday. I know you might not have time before work, but I’m in your neighborhood if you do have twenty minutes for coffee.
Hallelujah. Halle-freaking-lujah. The timing is so perfect it’s mind blowing. Instead of texting Brendan back, I hit his name and call him.
He’s there in five minutes. I’ve already called a towing company and given them the address for the car, plus called Dana and let her know what happened.
Brendan pulls up in a red station wagon, his arm hanging out the open window. “Need a ride, miss?”
I take in my first relaxed breath of the morning and walk over to his door. “Soon. I need to wait for the tow truck. Thank you so much for coming.”
“No problem.” He smiles. “You saw my text?”
“Yeah. Why were you in Hollywood?”
“I was dropping off some old records for Steve at his friend’s house.”
“Who’s Steve?”
“The actor.” Brendan lightly taps the outside of the car door. “This is his.”
“Ah.” I shift my weight. “Thanks again.”
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do.”
Especially after the way I shot you down on Saturday.
Instead of saying more, I just smile and look down at my feet.
“Climb in,” Brendan says. “You can wait for the tow truck in here.”
I do as he suggests and he pulls into the parking spot next to my poor car.
“I hope it’s okay,” I pout. “I don’t know how I’m going to get to work.”
“I can help you out if they can’t fix it soon. It’s not like I have anywhere to be in the mornings.”
I give him a half smile. “That’s nice, thanks, but you can’t drive me to work and pick me up every day.”
“I would if that’s what you needed.”
My heart lurches. What does he expect from me? A summer fling? Or is he still holding onto that fantasy he mentioned about me moving back to North Carolina?