Rainier Drive (Cedar Cove #6)(30)

When Teri finished Justine’s cut, Grace Harding arrived for a perm. Grace tried to book all her perms on weekends because she worked full-time at the library.

In fact, Grace’s perm was the first of three Teri had scheduled for the day.

By six that evening, her feet hurt and she hadn’t managed to have lunch. She was hungry, tired and feeling irritable about a certain spoiled chess player who was far too accustomed to getting his own way. Still, Teri was gratified that Bobby Polgar had made the effort to find out who she was and where she worked.

Actually, that was a noteworthy feat. She hadn’t given anyone her name, although now that she recalled, some of those pushy security people had checked her identification.

Teri was the last person to leave the salon that night. She set a final load of towels in the dryer, turned off the lights and headed out the door, locking it carefully before leaving the mall. Her feet hurt, and she was looking forward to a soak in her tub, a microwave pizza and a good book.

The stretch limo in the rear of the mall lot caught her attention right away. As soon as Teri appeared, the car started moving in her direction.

Teri froze.

Sure enough, the car slowed to a crawl and stopped directly beside her. The door opened. Apparently she was supposed to get in, no questions asked.

She bent over and looked inside.

Just as she’d suspected, there sat Bobby Polgar. This car could easily seat ten thin people or maybe eight women her size. Yet the only person inside was the chess player.

“Why wouldn’t you see me?” he asked.

“I told your driver I was booked for the day. I was.”

“Do you have time now?” He gestured toward the seat next to him. She studied him critically—he was of average height and build and wore glasses with dark frames. Quite nerdy looking, really. He didn’t appear to give much thought to fashion…or anything other than chess.

“Why?” she asked, genuinely curious.

Her question seemed to surprise him. “So we can talk.”

“What do we have to talk about?” she demanded.

“Are you always this much trouble?”

“No,” she told him truthfully. “But I had a very busy day and I’m tired.”

He frowned as though he found her statement puzzling. “You weren’t busy last Saturday?”

“I had a lighter schedule. I rescheduled two afternoon appointments in order to get to Seattle.” She didn’t mention the money she’d borrowed.

“Your diagnosis was correct,” he reminded her. He leaned forward and offered her his hand. “I won the match.”

Capitulating, Teri reluctantly climbed inside the limo, which was the biggest one she’d ever seen. She ran her hand over the plush upholstery and gazed up. The ceiling had lights that changed color every few seconds, subtle pastel colors that gave the interior a soft, flattering glow.

“Would you like something to drink?” Bobby asked.

“What’ve you got?”

“What do you want?” was his reply.

“A beer sounds good.”

“A beer,” he repeated as if he’d never heard the word before.

“Preferably a cold one.”

Bobby pushed a button and spoke into an intercom. “A cold beer for the lady, James.”

Teri nearly burst out laughing. “Your driver’s name is James?”

“That amuses you?” He wore the same puzzled look he had earlier.

She did a poor job of hiding her amusement. “It’s just so…clichéd.”

“Is it?” he asked, his expression still bewildered.

The car took off.

“Hey, just a minute,” Teri said, glancing around, suddenly unsure. “Where are we going?”

Bobby stared at her. “To get you a cold beer. Don’t worry. James can be trusted.”

“I trust James. You’re the one who’s got me worried.”

Bobby Polgar nearly smiled. “I like you. You’re a little on the fat side but—”

“And you’re on the rude side,” she interrupted. “Now take me back to my car.”

“In a minute.” He seemed to be in no hurry.

She crossed her arms. Never had she dreamed she’d be riding in a vehicle like this. “I thought you would’ve left the area by now.”

“Aren’t you pleased to see me?”

She shrugged. “Not particularly.”

He frowned.

Teri supposed that Mr. Bobby Big Shot wasn’t used to someone unwilling to pander to his gigantic ego. “You know, you didn’t pay me last Saturday. That’s fine, although payment at the time is customary. I didn’t intend on charging you—but it would’ve been nice if you’d offered.”

“You got the money?”

“Yes, thank you. That was a pretty hefty tip.”

“You deserved it.”

“You didn’t bother to thank me, either.”

“No,” he agreed, “I didn’t. I don’t think much about anything other than chess.”

As if she hadn’t figured that out.

The car stopped. About three minutes later the door opened and James, the man who’d come into the salon earlier, handed Teri a cold beer.