Page 40 of Penthouse Prince
Nothing, my ass.
Fortunately, before we can get into it further, my phone rings.
“One sec,” I mumble as I pull it out of my pocket. “Let me check this . . .”
The name on the screen definitely isn’t work-related.
“Corrigan?”
“Lex!” she shouts loud enough for the whole table to overhear. “I’m really sorry to call you out of nowhere but my car won’t start and I have to be at the dentist in forty-five minutes and I tried calling roadside assistance but my membership expired literally two days ago and Dak isn’t answering his phone, he’s probably still asleep or forgot to turn on his ringer again, and Sarah Jo’s gone to friggin’ Wyoming to visit her parents, so I didn’t know who else to—”
I reflexively put my hand up, even though she can’t see it. “Hey, slow down, don’t worry about it. Send me your address, and I’ll be right over.”
“Are you sure? I can call a tow truck.” At least she’s calmed down enough to pause for breath again.
“I’m not going to make you pay an arm and a leg for towing when I’m right nearby. Seriously, it’s fine.”
Standing, I look to Mom and Gail. “Sorry, I have to go help Corrigan real quick. Should I bring Grier or would it be okay to leave her here?”
Mom shakes her head. “We’ve got her.”
I nod, and press a kiss to the top Grier’s head. “Stay with Grandma.” I glance at my mom with appreciation. I’ll be back in . . .” I check the map link she sent me. “Twenty minutes. Here’s my credit card in case the waiter wants our payment.”
Ignoring Mom’s renewed look, I jog out to the car, and a few minutes later, I pull into the parking lot of an apartment building that looks like it’s seen better days. I drive slowly around until I spot Corrigan standing next to a small silver hatchback with its hood standing open. I maneuver as close as I can, pop the latch on my own hood, and get out.
Corrigan is wearing a pale blue sundress and strappy tan sandals. Her long bare legs are tanned, and her hair lifts in the breeze.
Shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand, she turns and gives me a little wave and a nervous smile. “Thanks for coming.”
“Of course. Should I take a look?” I tip my chin toward her car to keep myself from looking at her legs again.
She nods. “It’s just a dead battery, I think.”
“I have jumper cables.” Turning, I open the trunk of my car and pull them out.
“Sorry about dragging you out here on such short notice,” Corrigan says behind me.
“It’s not a problem.”
After I hook up our batteries and I start my car, I let it run for five minutes, during which I watch Corrigan waiting in her driver’s seat. Getting paranoid that I’m staring too much, I look away, look back, and repeat.
Finally, I yell, “Try it now.”
Corrigan’s engine struggles, then kicks over and growls. She sticks her head out the window to give a celebratory whoop. “It worked!”
“Great. Now just sit tight and keep it running for at least half an hour. I’ll take these back.” I turn off my ignition and get out to unlink our cars.
“Thank God. I didn’t know what I was going to do.” She flashes me a relieved smile that makes my stomach do gymnastics.
The back of my neck feels hot and I rub it, feeling both pleased and awkward. “Seriously, it was nothing. Consider it payback for saving my ass with Grier while Mom was in the ER.” I finish and loop the cables over my arm.
She shakes her head with a wry heh. “That time doesn’t count. You paid me actual money for that, so you don’t need to do me any favors.”
I inhale deeply and take the leap. “Well, if you really feel indebted, maybe you could come over and hang out tonight? We’ll order a pizza, do some finger-painting with Grier . . .”
Her face falls into a frown. “I can’t. I have my date.” Her tone is a little irritated, but it’s mixed with something else. Regret? But that’s probably wishful thinking.
“Right,” I mutter.
Of course. I knew that was happening. I haven’t been able to forget it for a minute since she told me.
Some stupid, desperate part of me was hoping that the guy got food poisoning or something and canceled at the last minute. Or that she’d woken up one morning and thought, Actually, I changed my mind. I’m totally cool with that little ripping-my-high-school-heart-out incident now—let’s go on a date!
Corrigan gives me a small, almost shy smile. “But thank you for rescuing me. I really appreciate it . . . and you.”
“Anytime,” I say, and mean it.
• • •
“Sorry about that,” I say as I sit back down at our table. “I hope Grier didn’t make too much of a fuss.”
