Page 12 of Push & Pull
Simone was not committed as she cracked open a paperback and scratched the side of her head. “Don’t kill me and leave me in a ditch somewhere.”
The car pulled to the nearest street. “Would an old friend of Hailey’s do such a thing?”
Simone did not answer that. Petra was only slightly miffed.I don’t kill people!Never in her life. That was more her uncle’s thing.
When was the last time Simone had actuallyseenAtlanta, and not merely suffered a layover in the airport? Seven years? Ten?
Ever?
I still can’t believe this is happening.If she had her phone, she could easily arrange transportation on her own. But, no! In everyone’s mad dash to load her up in a stranger’s car, they had overlooked the phone that was probably lying on the bed back in Hailey’s apartment.
Breathe. It’s not the end of the world.One thing Simone remembered from her countless therapists – and rehab – was to court mindfulness when anxiety and frustration mounted. That meant mentally stepping back and taking a deep breath.
She needed to bring herself back to the present, not the place where she had no control over what happened to the things and people around her. Even if the present meant she was cooped up in a Volvo with someone who could have been a serial killer, for all she knew.
Petra wasn’tbad,but what did she want from Simone? Automatic friendship and camaraderie? In some alternate timeline, where Simone was naturally outgoing and eager to make friends with everyone she met, shestillwouldn’t automatically trust a woman she barely remembered meeting the night before.At a drug-infested party, no less.Simone still couldn’t believe that. Er, she could. This was Hailey and the Marseille sisters she was talking about, after all.As long as I didn’t touch the stuff.No, instead, Simone had drunk herself into Blackout Town.
Somehow. This was a woman who had seriously cut back on her drinking since her last stint in rehab. Something she had been proud of until now.
I only remember the first drink.Was there ever a second?
“So, we’re not staying in the Hilton,” Petra said as she veered down the next exit, “but I promise that when I stay in any city, I try to do it in style.”
“As long as it’s clean and quiet.” Simone still had a slight headache from her hangover. The liquids had helped, but they weren’t enough to put life back into her limbs. “I’m not as precious as you might think I am.”
“Gee, I dunno. A pampered heiress of New England? I know your type.”
Simone slowly turned her head toward Petra. “What’s my type, huh?”
Petra shrugged. “Even if you don’t think you’re super spoiled, you are.”
“Oh, in that case.”
“I promise that there will be no bed bugs.” Petra referred to the map plotted on her phone when she slipped into another lane. “I know the person who owns the hotel. It’s not part of a chain. In fact, it’s right in the heart of the nightlife action.”
“Please don’t say nightlife right now. I can’t stomach the thought.”
“Works for me! I desperately need some sleep tonight. What say we check-in, drop off our stuff, then go get some dinner before turning in early? You’ll want to get to the airport bright and early to catch any flights available tomorrow.”
Simone had already forgotten that she had asked to go to the airport. Probably because she was still sore over missing her flight out of Miami earlier that day.I had first-class seats…Someone had been bumped up from coach. She hoped that stranger appreciated it.
“Fine. I’m… fine with whatever.”
Simone foolishly assumed that Petra was too focused on navigating evening traffic in Atlanta to continue her end of a conversation.Never assume anything with a stranger. Especially one like her.So far, Petra had proven to be reliable and polite, if not a bit rough around the edges, but Simone had accepted the situation. For now.
Then Petra started talking again.
“So amiable.” Petra stole a look in Simone’s direction as they waited at a light. “You really go with the flow, don’t you? Me too. You only control so much in your life, let alone this world. Sometimes you drink yourself half to death and wake up in someone else’s car. Anyway, you like waffles?”
Simone scratched the spot behind her ear where her sunglasses had been rubbing all day. “Waffles?”
“I’m really in the mood for waffles.”
Simone groaned. She already regretted saying anything.
Chapter 5
Shereallyshouldhaveknown better.
