Leslie LaFoy – Blindsided (страница 11)
His hands stopped and his gaze came up from his plate. He studied her for a long moment. The edge of his anger seemed to dull a bit. “They didn’t have one the last time I was here. Where is it?”
“Just west of McLean on Maple. Across the street from the baseball stadium.”
“How long is practice?”
“An hour and a half.”
He cocked a brow. “Get us double that until I tell you otherwise.”
Who’s paying for the extra time? she silently demanded. You want me to rob a bank on my way home?
“Who unlocks?”
“I do,” she answered tightly. “At five.”
“It’s going to be a short night,” he announced as he laid down his silverware. He glanced over at her barely eaten salad, at her napkin beside it, and apparently came to the conclusion that she was as done as he was. He rose to his feet, saying, “I’ll walk you to your car.”
It crossed her mind to tell him that she was perfectly capable of finding it on her own, but she bit the words back as he stepped to her chair and put his hand under her elbow to help her rise. Damn him and his timing. She slung her purse over her shoulder as he tossed two twenties on the table. Just when she had a really zingy comeback, he got chivalrous. It took all the righteousness out of the being snarky.
“Pack it in, gentlemen,” she heard him say from behind her as she headed toward the door. “Tomorrow’s going to be a long, hard day.”
Yes, it was, Cat admitted to herself as they moved toward their cars. Her agenda had been full before she’d fired Carl, before Logan Dupree had shown up out of the blue. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to wait until daylight to make sure things were set straight. Sleeping on problems never helped; they just made the bed lumpy. She fished the car keys out of her purse and tried to think of what to say, of what questions she needed to ask, what answers she needed to collect. And if they were the wrong answers… Geez Louise, how did you fire someone you hadn’t really hired? How did you question motives and tell someone they weren’t as perfect as you’d thought?
She stopped at the back of the Jeep, took a deep breath to steady herself and looked up at him. “Look, Logan. I—”
He shook his head, took the car keys out her hand and walked up the side of the Jeep. She watched him, her jaw dropped. No one had ever unlocked a car door for her. Not ever. Good God. He really was a gentleman. She’d always thought of them as being right up there in the Real Department with the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. But against all the odds, one had—
She started and winced as he opened the driver’s side door. The sprung door whose front edge popped the front quarter panel every time it swung open or closed. And not quietly, either. The sound made climbing in and out an acutely public declaration of poverty. On good days she could smile about it and tell herself that a car wasn’t anything more than a way to get from one place to another, that the Mom-mobile ran and it was paid for. On bad days, though… The Junkmobile was rolling, clattering, baling-wired proof of just how badly she’d failed at life.
She glanced over at the shiny black Lexus Logan had rented and then back to her Jeep. Today had been lousy pretty much all the way around. She’d had enough. So the bed was lumpy. She couldn’t remember the last time it hadn’t been.
Cat went up the side of the car, accepted the keys from him and slipped into the driver’s seat with a “Thank you,” that sounded every bit as exhausted as she felt.
It wasn’t until she’d cranked the engine over that he said, “I’ll see you at the rink at five sharp,” closed the door with a huge pop and walked off toward his own car.
Tired, embarrassed, and not at all certain whether Logan agreeing to coach was good news or bad, Cat backed out of the space and headed for the street. A quick check in the rearview mirror relieved her conscience. His headlights were on and his car was moving; he wasn’t stranded. She turned west and checked the rearview again as she stopped for the red light at Emporia. No Lexus headlights, no Logan behind her. Just a battered old pickup truck. Good. She was so ready to be alone.
The light turned green and she pressed the accelerator. The Jeep went nowhere. With a sigh, Cat slammed it into Park and turned the ignition off and then on again. The engine roared back to life, the choke wide open. She closed her eyes, clenched her teeth and tried to kick the revs back down into the normal range. As always, it didn’t work. The pickup truck driver honked his horn. The tires of the Jeep squealed as she put it in drive and shot forward. They squealed again as she took the corner at Douglas and Main and headed for the highway.
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