Page 47 of The Perils of Paulie
“You’re in America now. Here it’s a vest. And a dapper one, too. All you need is one of those wax-tipped mustaches, and you’d be at home in any Edwardian drama.”
“We have enough drama already, thank you.” He looked mildly unhappy. “I heard that Kell did not go easily.”
“Go?” I swallowed the last of my granola, glancing again at the clock. I had ten minutes before we were due at the start. “Go where?”
“You didn’t hear? Roger mentioned it at the dinner last night.”
“I had to... er... duck out for a bit. It was over by the time I was done. What did I miss?”
“Kell being formally removed from competition. He claimed he had done nothing wrong and wasn’t in the least to blame for yesterday’s incident, but luckily the dash cam evidence was enough to prove he violatedthe terms of participating by putting Rupert, me, and the car in danger.”
“Wow. So it’s just you and your brother now?” I had a horrible suspicion what he was going to say next.
“And a new man, Anton Serik. I haven’t met him, but Roger said he had been originally on the list to race but had been bumped in favor of Kell.”
“Is he about five foot eight and bald, and has suspicious little eyes?” I asked, nodding when Melody tapped her watch at me and left the room.
“I don’t know. Why?” He gave me an odd look.
“I think my dad sent him. Although he wouldn’t have been on the original list if that was the case. Damn. Maybe I was wrong about him, in which case he probably thinks I’m certifiable. Crapstones! I have to go. Good luck today!”
“And to you,” he said, half rising when I leaped up to dash away. I wondered for a minute if he had been about to kiss me, and turned back to him. He had sat down, but noticed me clearly standing there, waiting for a good-bye smooch. He rose just as I figured he wasn’t going to kiss me and turned to go to the door. I caught the movement from the corner of my eye and, having taken three steps, stopped to look back at him. He was sitting again, but at my look back to him, he started to rise, freezing halfway as if he was not sure what I was going to do.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, this is worse than a slapstick movie!” I said loudly, and ran back to him where he was lowering himself back into the chair, grabbed his ears, and laid my lips on his in a fast-and-furious kiss.
I was out the door before I remembered that we weren’t going to give anyone an idea of what we were doing in private, cursing to myself all the way to the car.
I’m happy to report the day’s drive passed without any untoward events, although Louise was increasingly unhappy.
“I don’t know why the film crew is spending all its time on other people when we are the ones who are interesting.”
“Wow. Self-centered much?” I murmured in the backseat.
She slapped her hands on the wheel, causing the car to jerk dangerously to the side. “It’s just not like what Mom said it would be. Look at me, sitting here doing nothing but driving all day long. How am I ever going to get the Instagram followers I need by doing nothing but driving a moldy old car?”
Melody cast a glance over her shoulder to me. I shrugged.
“Mom said it was going to be likeThe Amazing Race, only with costumes. This is nothing like it, nothing at all. There are no challenges, no excitement, and not nearly enough cameras. I’m the producer’s daughter, for god’s sake! I should have a dedicated camera of my own. I was almost onHousewives of Catalina, except I’m not married.” She slapped her hands again.
“I don’t quite know—” Melody started to say, but it would take a stronger woman than she to stop Louise once she was in one of her soliloquys.
“I’m going to tell Dad that things have to change, or else. I’m not going to waste a whole four weeks justdriving.”
I wanted to ask her what she thought a round-the-world car race would entail, but decided I really didn’t want the answer. Instead, I tuned out her continued complaints and spent my time making character sketches of everyone I’d met, talking to Melody, and taking copious amounts of photos.
Since we’d made good time—too good, as a matter of fact, which would have left us arriving before the allowed time (and thus earned another infraction)—we stopped at a coffee shop outside the city and enjoyed an hour ofWi-Fi, lattes, and the attention of everyone present. Louise posed for pictures with patrons, while Melody and I showed off the Thomas Flyer. Louise was miffed that the camera crews were not there to catch her doing her thing, and drove the rest of the way ranting about it being a conspiracy to keep her off the screen.
We rolled into our hotel checkpoint during the time allowed, and after a bit of mechanical talk from Graham (who wanted me to check oil, water, and gas levels, since there were no modern-day gauges), I toddled off to remove the corset and pretty outfit.
I stopped by the minuscule desk and picked up a key. Evidently this hotel—more of a motel than anything else—was built around the turn of the twentieth century and hadn’t upgraded its doors to modern standards. I climbed the stairs to the first floor, turned down a long hallway, and toward the middle of it saw Dixon talking to his brother at the door of a room. Judging by the numbers on the doors, my own room was a few beyond the two men.
“Hello,” I said politely as I scooted past them.
“Hullo,” Rupert said. He’d already peeled off his high collar and necktie and opened his vest and shirt. He didn’t look anything like his brother, and although he was handsome enough, he couldn’t hold a candle to Dixon. “How was your drive?”
“Fine. I think the probability is quite high that Melody might murder Louise if she continues to narrate her every thought all day long into the dash cam, but I’m OK with that. How was your guys’ trip? No problems with the new guy? Speaking of him, where is he?” I looked around, but it was only the two brothers and at the other end of the hall the German ladies all going into their rooms.
“Anton? He’s around somewhere.” Rupert gave Dixonan odd look. “I’m off to take a shower and then commiserate with the French team before they fly home.”
