The Ex Files (Ocean View #1)(8)

“No one knows where you are?” I pick up the cold metal wrench and get back to tightening the nuts, making sure they’re even and secure.

“Well, my assistant would probably notice in the morning that I was gone, but….” Once again, I pause to look at her. She’s beautiful. And through the frustrated, bitchy mask, I think she’s kinda sweet. She has to have someone waiting for her at home.

“No man?”

“What?”

“No man to keep tabs on you?”

“I don’t need a man to keep tabs on me.”

“You were stuck for an indefinite amount of time in the middle of nowhere with no cell service. If you had a good man, he’d have found you.” She never answers my question, nor does she argue, even though the stark look on her face says she disagrees with me, but drops it. Smiling for some strange reason, I go back to finishing my job. Finally, her voice breaks the silence.

“Wow. It’s pretty out here.” The soft breath of her voice has me stopping again, but when I glance at her, she’s not looking at me. Instead, her head is tipped up, taking in the clear night sky dotted with stars.

“Stars are bright.”

“Yeah. I never… I’m usually in the city. No stars out there. The lights and the boardwalk are too bright.”

“We’re just far enough to catch the stars out here. You want to see them for real, though, go up to the mountains. Poconos. Bright as can be out there.” She pauses, staying quiet as we both stare up at the twinkling stars.

“My dad’s getting married out there in a few weeks.”

“Yeah?” I tighten the last bolts and brush off my hands before I stand.

“Yeah.” The words are clipped, annoyed.

“Sound pissed about it.”

“Not… not pissed. Just not excited. A messy divorce, weird family dynamics. The normal, you know?” I look at her as I lift the flat into her trunk, but her eyes are still to the sky. The truth is, I don’t know. I have friends who understand, even cousins. But not my family. My parents love each other more today than they did years ago, still kissing in the kitchen just because, my dad still grabbing my mom’s ass when they think no one’s looking. My sisters are both head over heels in love with good men they made adorable kids with. But you don’t say that to a stranger who may or may not be having an existential crisis in the middle of nowhere.

“Yeah.” It’s all I can say as I pack away the jack, flat tire, and tools before wiping my hands on the jumpsuit I’m still wearing. I need to drop the truck back off at the garage before heading home to change. When I slam the trunk closed, she comes out of her daze and looks at me.

“Ugh, I’m so sorry. I’m out here losing my mind, telling you all my problems, and having a meltdown while you’re just trying to get your job done.” She laughs, the sound self-deprecating. Now that my eyes have adjusted to the dark more, I can see her better. She’s cute though, curvy, with a pretty face that I’m sure in better light is drop-dead gorgeous, despite the black stains on her cheeks. And now that her anxiety and frustration have ebbed, I think she might also have a decent sense of humor.

“No problem, Cassie.” Pretty name too. “So here’s the card for the garage. Jeff, the owner, won’t rip you off. Tell him Luke said you’re cool and you’ll be taken care of.” Thinking back on my conversation with Quinn, I decide to shoot my shot. When the world drops an opportunity in your lap, you know?

“Hey, look, I know this is weird, but—”

“Oh, that’s super sweet, but I am so not the right woman.” She digs in the purse on the passenger seat. “So, do I owe you anything? Or is this included in the service?” I blink at her, confused. Was I just turned down? Or did I read the situation so totally wrong? Something tells me I didn’t, but…

“Service?”

“Roadside Assistance? Do you need my membership card?” A hand waves a laminated card at me, and I remember. She doesn’t think this is good luck and I’m doing this to be nice. She thinks I work for some kind of roadside service company. I huff out a laugh and try to explain.

“No, I—”

“Great, well, that should be good, right? I can go?” She walks around the car to the driver’s side, heels sinking in the not-quite frozen grass and nearly tripping. I lean forward to catch her if she falls, but she grabs the door and gets her footing before climbing in and starting the car. “Thanks so much for everything. Here’s something for your help,” she says, handing me a few folded bills before shutting her door.

As she drives off, I stare at her taillights, wondering what the fuck just happened.





Five





-Cassie-





Walking into the office the following day with a latte for Gabrielle and me, I’m a mess. My body aches from the shivering and crying jags—yes, jags, plural—I had in the car, my favorite shoes are scuffed beyond repair, and I have to call somewhere to see if they can fix my tire. On top of that, I had a nasty voicemail from the client who was stood up last night waiting in my inbox when I finally got in cell range.

Well, at least he outed himself quickly. No need to waste my time on the required two dates if that’s how he acts when he doesn’t get his way.