Page 17 of Ice Darling
“Travel safe,” I tell her with a little more excitement than is polite.
“Thank you, dear. Before I leave, I wanted to ask you a favor.”
I go tense again.
“You’ve chosen to be a mechanic, and I totally respect that. However, I can’t stand to think of you working for hours on end in the hot sun. You’re still my baby, and you’re still a Davenport, even if youaredoing hard labor.”
I glance up at the tent covering our workstations. It’s not too bad now, but when mid-afternoon comes, it gets sweltering.
“So,” Mom continues, “I’d like to introduce you to a realtor who’ll take you to look at available garages. I’m aware of the legal drama around the building your bosses own, and who knows how long litigation will be?”
“I’m just the new mechanic. I don’t have much say in where they decide to operate, Mom.”
“It’s only a tour. You won’t sign any papers. And if you see something nice, you can forward it to April and Rebel.”
I turn it over in my mind. It’s not a bad idea.
But, then again, it’s an idea from Mom, and I don’t know her motivations.
Mom pushes. “I can tell that you have a lot of respect for those ladies. Wouldn’t it be nice to help them this way?”
Itwouldbe nice. April and Rebel have done a lot for me, and I haven’t done much to show my appreciation. Actually, I’ve done the complete opposite.
Now that the secret’s out and they know who I really am, I don’t mind using the Davenport name and influence for good.
“Where’s the realtor’s office?”
“He’s not local, so he’ll meet you at a public place. Bob’s Burgers? Twelve o’clock?”
Bob’s Burgers.My intuition pings a warning. It’s a strange place to have a realtor meeting.
I agree hesitantly. “That works…I guess.”
“Great! Let’s have a nice, mother-daughter chat the next time I’m in town. Ta-ta!”
I hang up, feeling like I stepped into a whirlwind and not sure why.
The “why” becomes abundantly clear exactly three seconds after I walk into Bob’s Burgers.
I scan the tables, looking for a sharply dressed professional who may or may not have a standing appointment with a celebrity plastic surgeon.
Instead, my eyes collide with a tall, ruggedly handsome man wearing a Lucky Strikers jersey. My heart screams down to my toes, freezing me in place.
It’shim.
Viking Renthrow is sitting with his back to the wall and his gaze observing everyone in the burger joint. His messy black hair is corralled under a baseball cap, leaving most of his face exposed so I can see exactly when he recognizes me.
His entire body stiffens, and his lips turn down in a frown so sharp, I could attach it to the bottom of my sneakers and go skating on a frozen pond with it.
I pointedly look past him, hoping to find the mysterious realtor I was promised. At this point, I’ll be fine if Mom set me up with the realtor instead.
“Cordelia, right?” A teenager wearing an apron and a hair net rounds the counter and approaches me. Her eyes slide past me to the bike parked outside as she pops her gum. “That’s your bike, right?”
“Yeah.”
She grins. “This way.”
My throat goes dry as she leads me right up to Viking Renthrow’s table.
