Page 24 of Bishop's Queen

“What is your deal? No bullshit.”

“I—”

“No. Bullshit.”

“I try to live with as little of a negative carbon footprint each day as possible, and two cars, or your truck… that leaves a larger one.”

“That’s why we’re packed like sardines?”

“Yup,” she quipped.

“Isn’t there a quality of life that you’d like to also live?” He hoped to whatever her higher authority was that she said yes.

Her chin dropped as she fidgeted with the keys. “My quality of life is fine.”

The way she said it… where had all the sass gone? He recalibrated his approach, obviously hitting on something that wasn’t in her file, like a mental health check. “Well, mine might be a little better if we took my ride.”

The stoic look worked for her as she remained silent. He could see how thousands of people would follow her all around the world, trusting her when she leveled her serious stare. Even trapped like a gorilla in a hamster cage, he almost wanted to put up with their planned forty-five-minute drive. His leg cramps said otherwise. “I’m getting a charley horse, babe.”

She grimaced on his behalf, and there it was. He was making a little bit of headway with her, even if he couldn’t get her to say it. Whatever her issue was, she wasn’t a cramp-giving client from hell—just a crazy one.

“I just looked at your blog.” He tried again, hoping to find common ground. It was the truth too, even if it had only been two minutes of fast skimming, solely for the purpose of opposition research. “You don’t want people to live and suffer. You want them to adjust their lifestyle so the world is a better place.This. Sucks. I’m not adjusting anything based off this.”

“You were on Eco-Ella?”

“Bits.” He tried to shift, and the mouth to the seat belt dug into his side. “You wouldn’t video this and put it on there. You’d be off message.”

Her mouth dropped.

“It’d be against everything you say you want.”

Pink lips dropped a little more.

Bishop went in for the final offer. “Two cars, or I’m more than happy to drive with that eco-button pushed in my truck.” Who knew that thing would ever come in handy? “Eco-button for Eco-Ella?” She slid him a sideways glance but was a moment away from giving in, he could tell. “Who knows? Maybe I should’ve had it pushed in all the time. I never thought about it before now. Come on, better than two cars. Or your car in the bed of my truck.”

She laughed quietly. “You know it won’t really fit.”

“I know.” Though it might.

With a tiny breath, she slumped back. “You win round one, Muscles.”

“Didn’t know we were playing games.” But inside, he was running around the car, giving high fives, throwing the football in the end zone, and doing a damn touchdown dance.

A flash of awareness danced in her eyes. “You did too.”

He leaned closer, letting the seat belt bite into his side. “I win round two. Round one went to you and the jerky-paper towel fiasco.”

Blue eyes lit—all the confirmation he needed—and Ella pulled her buzzinghandbag from behind her seat. “You’re right.”

Bishop reached for his door, and she pressed a button on her remote to pop the trunk.

“We should keep better score,” Ella said as she hopped out of her microcar and shut him in alone.

Yeah, sure. It was all a game. No death threats or stalker, who apparently wanted her dead. “You got it, Crazy.”

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