Page 72 of Driftwood Daffodil 2

“Then you should also be aware of where you should be. Or did you forget what you agreed to?”

But did I agree to it, or was I just told how things were going to be?

“Oh I remember. I also remember that I wasn’t given a timeframe and technically…” I paused to look at the clock on the wall. “It’s Friday night for another three hours and twenty-eight minutes.”

“Technicalities aren’t going to get you out of this one.”

Showed what he knew. Life was all about technicalities.

“I’m following the parameters that were set out for me, and… I’m comfortable.”

Not really. The padding in the chair was worn down, and if I shifted too fast to the left, the plastic covering would bite my ass.

“How’s this for parameters, if you’re not standing at my door in ten minutes, I’ll come and get you.”

What kind of vague ass threat was that? “I’ll lock the door.”

“I’ll kick it on.” He growled. “And drag you out by your fucking hair.”

Okay, that was a little more clear.

All I could see when I looked at our flimsy wooden door was the look on Veda’s face when she came home to her sister being drug out of the house by a Mancini.

“Fine,” I sighed. “I’ll leave now.”

“You have eight minutes and forty-seven seconds.” Gio said and hung up.

Of course he was timing me. So much for lounging around for another minute or two.

Grumbling under my breath, I got up, marched into my room to grab the bag I packed, and headed out to my truck. I may have to go to Gio’s house, but I’d be going with the satisfaction of knowing he was thoroughly pissed off.

That probably wouldn’t make my weekend very enjoyable, but it was still a win in my books. And that was all I needed to smile. Until I stuck the key in the ignition, and nothing happened.

I twisted my keys again, and I got nothing but a few soft clicks.

I tried everything. Beating the engine with my trusty wrench, kicking the tires, and talking sweetly to my truck before turning it on. Nothing worked.

Groaning, I dropped my forehead on the steering wheel.

This was all Atlee’s fault. If he hadn’t messed with my truck, then I wouldn’t have had the false delusion of it working properly. At least before I knew what to do. This truck was a fickle beast. It took me months to figure her out. God knew what she wanted now.

“Okay,” I sat up and sucked in a deep breath. “We can do this.”

I held my breath, closed my eyes, and prayed to the truck gods as I turned the key.

The engine roared to life, renewing my faith in my beloved vehicle.

With a smile, I placed a firm kiss on the steering wheel. “I knew we could do it.”

Unfortunately, my ten minutes had run out.

As I was preparing to pull away, a Range Rover pulled up beside me.

The scowl causing deep lines in Gio’s forehead was thing of beauty. His finger lifted, giving me a signal to roll my window down.

Pride fille my chest as I cranked on the window handle. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him that mad, and I pissed him off a lot.

“Hey,” I sang with a grin. “Fancy meeting you here.”

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