Page 40 of Slumming It
That did it.Ever since knocking on his door, I'd put up with his endless bullshit – the stupid clothes, the overly long agreement, and his condescending jerkwad attitude.Enough was enough.
Through gritted teeth, I said, "You know what? Stop the car."
To my surprise, he actually complied, easing the vehicle onto the shoulder of the long winding road, surrounded by deep woods on either side. He shifted the car into park and cut the engine. He turned to face me before asking with feigned innocence, "Is there a problem?"
I was glaring now. "Yes. A big one."
"And that is…?"
"Oh, come on," I said. "You're not stupid."
His mouth tightened. "Obviously."
"Yeah, well I'm not either. And I'm not going to sit here and listen to you call my family trash."
He glanced toward the passenger's side door. "So, you're walking?"
My heart sank as his words hit home.What an asshole.
I thought of Cassanda Bloom. She'd been his real girlfriend, not a fake one like me. She was rich and famous. And he'd abandonedheron the side of some highway, wearing a formal evening gown no less.
I looked down at my own attire. It wasn't formal, but it wasn't walking-friendly either. Plus, like a total dumb-ass, I hadn't even thought to bring a coat. Sure, the weather was mild enough for September, but the air wasn't balmy by any means.
I turned and eyed the passenger's side door. As far as leverage, I had absolutely nothing. But Ididhave a cellphone and plenty of family within driving distance.
If I left his car, I wouldn't be walking for long.
Or at least, I sure hoped not.But would it truly come to that?
When I looked back to Reese Murdock, he was studying me with an expression that I couldn’t quite decipher. Whatever it was, it wasn't humble regret.
Again, I considered his question.WasI planning to walk? The cool weather aside, tottering down the road in high heels and Daisy Dukes wasn't my idea of a good time, especially with those stupid shorts riding up my ass.
Don't get me wrong. I would do it if I had to, but I refused to let him offthateasily, not without a fight.
I told him, "Nice try, Bucko."
He cocked a single eyebrow. "Bucko, huh?"
"It's either that or jerkwad." I gave him a sarcastic smile. "Your choice."
His lips twitched like I'd just said something funny. "Bucko, it is."
That hint of a smile – or whatever it was – made me pause in sudden confusion. For a moment there, he'd looked almost boyish, and I tried to imagine him as a kid.
Probably, he'd been a monster back then, too. After all, you don't grow up to actthatentitled without a good chunk of spoiling along away.
Pushing aside the distraction, I said, "Well,Bucko…I never said I was walking."
His smugness returned. "Good."
"But…" I paused for emphasis. "Youwillapologize for insulting my parents."
He gave me a dubious look. "I will, huh?"
"Yes. Because we're not driving another mile until you do – not together, anyway." I crossed my arms. "And just to be clear, I'mnotjoking."
And then I settled in to wait.
