Page 5 of On the Run
“Fine, then.” I tapped the credit card again. “Any color convertible is—”
“Don’t have one.”
“But I have a reservation number—”
“Sorry. Our reservation system is down at present.” Her lips twisted to one side, and she shrugged. “I can’t look anything up.”
The vomit on my toes grew colder.
“A sedan, then.” I waved a hand and scooted the card closer to her. She took it but shook her head. “A compact?” She shrugged. “Asubcompact?”
“We don’t have any of those, sir. And our reservation system is—”
“Down at present? So you said.” I sucked my top lip between my teeth. “Well, what do you have?”
“I’ve got…” Sofi tapped the screen idly. “A fifteen-passenger cargo van. It’s the last thing in our lot tonight. You can exchange it tomorrow.”
“Fine. I’ll—”
Behind me, a baby laughed, and I glanced back at the Vomitous von Trapps. The mother clutched a packet of baby wipes and bounced the human projectile launcher, who was now giggling merrily, having deposited his unhappiness on my shoe.
I sighed.
“I think someone needs the van more than me. But surely there must be something else, Sofi,” I told her with my widest, most charming smile. “Maybe if you check with a different company here at the airport?”
“Can’t.” She grabbed a piece of dirty-blonde hair and twirled it with one finger. “Their reservation systems are down too. Catastrophic outage,” she said, and it was the happiest she’d looked during our whole interaction.
I set my jaw. “Fine.Fine. I will catch a cab. Thank you so much for your exemplary customer service and willingness to go the extra mile.”
“Welcome!” she said with no irony at all.
I huffed out a breath. It was impossible to slay someone with my rapier wit when they didn’t realize we were dueling.
I grabbed my suitcase and dragged it toward the closest bathroom, hobbling along in my sticky shoe until I got some damp paper towels to clean off the worst of the damage.
Didn’t bad things come in threes? First there’d been the photographer at the nightclub, then the puke, then the rental car. Surely that was enough.
I dragged my phone out of my pocket one more time as I left the bathroom and jabbed Mason’s number. It was time to play hardball and actually leave the man a voicemail.
“Mason, sweetness,” I said when it clicked over. “Toby here.Again. You, ah, may have seen my many missed calls? You may have wondered why I didn’t text? Ahem. Well. The thing is. I find myself in a bit of a sticky situation. A situation best explained in person. You might remember that time a few months back when you said, ‘Come visit! Anytime you like for as long as you like’? Well, today might be your lucky day, precious. I sincerely hope you’re not having some kind of epic tantric sex marathon with your boy toy right now. Or that you’ve left room for me, if you are. Ha ha.” I swallowed. “But, um, seriously. Call me.”
I clicked off the phone, rubbed it against my forehead, and sighed, then scooted out of the way as the floor scrubber headed right for me.
Lovely. Here I was, being stalked by a guy with a floor scrubber, in need of a cab and possibly another strong drink. But the important thing about hitting rock bottom was realizing you were there, right?
I put my phone on top of my suitcase and dug through my bag for my credit card so I could pay for my ride, but I couldn’t find it.
Fuck. I’d left it at the car rental place. Which I now saw had turned its lights off while I was in the bathroom, like it had closed up for the night. Sure enough, Sofi was disappearing through the door to the back room.
I grabbed my suitcase handle and ran for it, only remembering why that wasn’t a good idea a second too late. I turned and watched in horror as my phone fell off my suitcase and slid across the slick floor… right past the whirly thing on the side of the floor scrubber and then—with a sickening crunch—underneath its back tire.
“No no no no no! My baby!”I screeched, running after the machine, which was dragging the carcass of my phone along inside it, leaving a trail of phone pieces stuck to the linoleum in its wake. “Stop! Halt immediately!”
But it was too late, and the floor scrubber guy drove on, blissfully unaware thanks to his noise-protecting ear-thingies.
I dropped to my knees like Demi in that scene fromGhost, gathering the remains of my darling, perfect, life-giving device in my tiny hands and cradling them tenderly.
“Oh, you were so young,” I sobbed, squeezing my eyes shut. “You had so much left to give!”
