Page 61 of Her Beastly Billionaire Rock Star
She walked to the open car door and leaned across the seat to grab her phone. As she straightened, she sighed. “No bars?” What was she going to do now? With another exasperated sigh, she sat down hard in the driver’s seat and leaned her head against the headrest.
“If anyone is listening, I could really use a break.”
The blue blur of a pickup whizzed past her. She didn’t know how fast they were going, but it had to be more than the 65 mph speed limit she’d been driving.
A moment later, the blue pickup returned, facing her head-on as it stopped a few feet away. An average-height man wearing jeans and a denim button-up got out and approached her. If she were to guess age, based on his tanned, weathered face, she’d put him in his fifties.
“Uh, you need some help?” he asked.
“Um.” What did she say? Yeah? This was a great place to run into the wrong person and wind up on a missing persons list. Although, he didn’t look like a homicidal maniac. Then again, how would she know?
He smiled. “I swear you’re safe with me.” Holding up both hands, he chuckled. “See, no weapons.”
“You could just be saying that.”
He shook his head and put his hands on his hips. “I’m Quincy Bellamy, and I’m guessing you’re lost.”
Grace chewed her thumb. Indecision gripped her. What should she do? Did she have a choice?
She stood and put the car door between them as she stuffed her phone in the pocket of her navy slacks. “I’m Grace Maddox, and I don’t think smoke is supposed to be pouring out of the engine.”
His smile was warm as he closed the distance between them. He stopped at the front of the car and took a deep breath. “It’s a shot in the dark, but by the smell, I’d say your radiator’s busted. If you want, I can give you a ride into town, and you can see about getting your car towed.”
This man was the first human she’d seen in hours. What if she turned him down? Or better yet, what were the chances of someone else stopping?
She fanned herself with her hand as sweat began to form along her brow. With as hot as it was, if this man didn’t kill her, the heat would. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Sure.” He nodded his head toward the truck. “Get in.”
Grace grabbed her purse and locked the car door before walking to the old seventies pickup. It might not be pretty, but it was running, which was more than she could say for Bret’s—her Mustang. She pulled on the door handle, and it didn’t budge.
“Oh yeah. I’m sorry. That door is persnickety.” Quincy jumped into the pickup and reached across the bench seat to push the door open for her.
Well, if Quincy was a killer, at least she knew she could get out. “Thanks,” she said as she got in and shut the door. “I appreciate you giving me a ride.”
“No problem.” He chuckled. “So, you’re lost, huh?”
Grace nodded. “Yeah, I’ve never been more lost. I know I put the address in my GPS correctly. I don’t know what happened.”
“Willow Valley isn’t what you’d call mapped.”
“What? Willow Valley?” That wasn’t what she’d put into her GPS. How could she have gotten so turned around? She’d even downloaded the app’s newest version before she left home.
Quincy glanced at her. “That’s where you are.”
“How far is Abilene?”
“You’re at least three hours from Abilene.”
Her eyes widened. “Three hours?” And a broken-down car. How was she going to make her appointment now? Yolanda was going to kill her, raise her from the dead, and kill her again. And promotion? Forget it. It seemed like the last eight months had been one continual shoe drop after another.
“I take it that’s not what you wanted to hear.”
Grace shook her head and sighed. “No. I wish I knew what happened.”
He shrugged. “I guess someone thought you needed a detour.”
She snorted. “I wish they’d asked.”
