Page 49 of Riding the Sugar High

“Your car?”

“A rental.” When she nods, I shift on the uncomfortable metal chair. “I arrived pretty late, and once I got to Logan’s house...Well, we hadn’t seen each other in a long time. We spent the night in.”

“Where’s your rental now?”

My mouth opens, but the accident with Logan comes back to me in flashes. Crashing against him. His panic attack. Our kiss. Him fixing my car.

Well, crap.

We didn’t prepare for this.

I turn to Peter, and when he dips his chin, nausea assaults me.If I nod, you can answer the question.That’s what he said this morning. But how can I explain what happened without our story falling apart? What—should I say I got into an accident with my boyfriend? How did she even know to ask?

“The car is at the repair shop,” Peter offers. “How is this relevant?”

Josie shrugs. “I’m trying to piece together what happened. Did you get into an accident or something?”

An accident or something?She knows. Shemustknow.

“No accident involved.” Peter grabs his briefcase, swiftly opens the straps, and takes out a pile of papers. Once he finds the one he’s looking for, he hands it over. “Mr. Coleman was understandably upset about his girlfriend’s vehicle malfunctioning, so he got the mechanic’s assessment. It looks like the car had a defective transmission sensor.” He waves in dismissal. “I have no idea what that means, but...not Miss Bellevue’s fault.”

So Logan was right. The car didn’t break down because of him.

Why did he get that document? I guess it’s entirely possible he’d go through all that trouble to prove he was right, but...could he have done it for me? Forthismoment?

“Oh, that’s...” Josie clicks her tongue as she studies the paper. “You should ask for a full refund.”

I nod, but her friendliness is starting to feel corny. Is she just trying to put me at ease so that I’ll lower my guard and mess up?

“You know, when we came to the farm last Friday, I couldn’t help but notice that Logan’s bike was pretty beaten up.” She relaxes in her chair, her ponytail gently swinging with the movement and her emerald green eyes flickering with curiosity. “Do you know what happened?”

“Mr. Coleman fell from his motorcycle.”

Josie’s eyes flick to Peter. “Oh, come on, Mr. Miller. Give your client some credit—she can answer my questions herself.”

“Officer,” Peter says, “I won’t tell you how to do your job, and I ask that you pay me the same courtesy.”

The sudden rise of tension in the room has me swallowing, then trying to breathe through it though my heart is in my throat.

Josie sighs, her patient expression back in place as she asks Peter, “Why weren’t the police involved? Ambulance? Insurance?”

“There was no need for any of it. The motorcycle only needs minor cosmetic fixes. Mr. Coleman will pay for those himself.” Peter rolls his shoulders back as if he’s suddenly remembered he should be somewhere else. “I struggle to see how this involves my client at all. If you don’t have any more questions directly pertaining to her, we’ll?—”

“Tell me about Derek. He’s your ex, right?”

I nod, slightly more comfortable because, at least, this portion of the story doesn’t involve any lies.

“And you’ve experienced some backlash online after your breakup?”

“Some, yes.” Reminded of Peter’s recommendation not to be overly aggressive when discussing Derek, I shrug. “He’s been sharing his version of the events between us online, and he doesn’t often paint me in a great light.”

“Yeah.” She scrolls through the papers in front of her. “Not a great light indeed.”

I wet my lips, then dry my hands on the flaps of my skirt.

“You mind if I ask you a few questions about that?”

I shake my head. Of all the things she could ask me about, Derek and his lies are the most favorable option, and I never thought I’d say that.

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