Page 52 of You're So Vine
I can start by facing the shitstorm that’ll be waiting for me back at work—deservedly so.
And then I can apologize to Ava.
Time’s precious. Don’t waste it.
I put the Dodge in gear and hit the road.
ChapterSeventeen
AVA
The feisty little Mercedes is red, like all good sports cars should be. It’s showing its age, like Danny said, but I can see how fantastic it would look fully refurbished. Danny has good instincts for cars: he can see the potential below even the roughest surface. And he knows exactly how to connect the right car with the right buyer, because he can strip away their rational top layer and see what pushes their emotional buttons. Hint: it’s not miles to the gallon.
I pushed Cam’s emotional buttons this morning in all the wrong ways. And he pushed mine. But now my head is clear of my initial resentment, I can see our argument was a goodthing. The rosy haze of sexual attraction does a great job of blinding us to each other’s faults. It’s nature at her finest, making sure we procreate before we realize we want to punch each other’s lights out. Getting to know each other on a deeper level is where a lot of couples fall apart, but it’s the onlything that will keep you together. I’m glad Cam and I had our first fight. When we come back from it, we’ll be so much stronger.
At least, that’s my hope. Not exactly sure how the coming-back-from-it part will work with Cam because—oh, the irony—I don’t know him that well. With guys in the past, I’ve opted for the direct approach, going straight to the issue at hand. And when my directness proved too much for them, I just saw it as a sign we weren’t supposed to be together.
But those guys … it was never serious. I didn’t want a relationship with any of them. Not like I do with Cam. He’s the first man I’ve felt connected to in more ways than physical. He’s the first man I’ve ever thought about spending my future with. Whatever future that might be…
Dammit. I was feeling positive and now I’m anxious again. I need a distraction. Good thing there’s one sitting right next to me.
“So,” I ask Jackson, “did you quit or get fired?”
This kind of car isn’t really made for someone of Jackson’s bulk. The driver’s seat is pushed as far back as it can go but he’s still crammed in. His big mitts are clutching the narrow wheel, and he’s driving cautiously like he’s afraid the wheel will snap. Or maybe he’s just nervous about being responsible for Danny’s new car. My question doesn’t help. Jackson jumps and the car does a little shimmy on the road.
“Shit,” he says. “Give me some warning next time. Ring a small bell. Or cough discreetly.”
“No way,” I say. “Element of surprise is key.”
Jackson blows out a breath—either releasing stress or resigning himself to his fate. My guess is the latter.
“I got made redundant,” he says, “along with ninety-nine others so, you know, nothing personal.”
“A hundred layoffs. Tidy round number. What was the firm?”
“Tech start-up. Layoffs in San Francisco, Chicago and Phoenix, Arizona. Where I was.”
“Why Phoenix?”
“Steve Miller Band,” says Jackson. “You know, the song about going to a bunch of cities to get work so he could be with his sweet baby, yeah?”
“Absolutely no clue,” I say. “More of a metal fan. Not a lot of sweet babies in grindcore.”
“Don’t ever tell me what that is.”
“Did you get a payout?”
“I got my last paycheck,” says Jackson. “Used it to get out of my apartment lease. Landlord wasn’t going to budge.”
“Capitalism at its finest,” I say.
“And before you ask, I have some savings,” he adds. “I just don’t have a job. Or a car. Or a place to live.”
“Does—?”
Jackson lifts one hand off the wheel in the stop signal.
“And before you ask that, no, Shelby doesn’t know, and neither does Mom or the rest of my family. I didn’t want to be a downer at the wedding. Plus, I still have a tinybit of pride.”
