“Pete, you are a very lucky guy… and I’m so happy for you both.”
6
STEFFI
He was ignoring her.
Steffi couldn’t blame him because her life was kind of a ‘thing’ now. The first day she had Drake’s car, a bird pooped right in the middle of the windshield – then on the hood. If she didn’t have bad luck, she would have no luck at all. It was like she had a target on the car, and it had to chap Mr. Perfect’s backside to know that she had not washed it off yet.
Um, hello – bird poop?
Steffi wasn’t touching it. She wasn’t taking a chance of scratching the pristine car by scrubbing it with a wash rag – or heaven forbid – she might use the wrong soap… nor was she paying for a car wash until Friday. That’s when her next paycheck was going to be direct-deposited. She’d just pay for a fancy brushless car wash with all the ‘bells and whistles’ out of her grocery money. That was really the only place in her tight budget she had wiggle room, because unfortunately, Drake’s car used a little more gasoline than her tiny old Geo Prism did.
Four cylinders – meet Six.
The car was plush… like freakishly plush compared to her thirty-year-old Geo. Her car just had to last, and like a champ,it did. She lovingly called it ‘The Crypt Keeper’ because no matter what happened, it simply didn’t die. When Drake offered to repair her car, she had been certain he was joking because there wasn’t a thing on the car that wasn’t leaking, seized, or rusted now – well, that sounded bad, like she was bemoaning the vehicle that served her well, but honestly, the car had been lovingly coaxed along by her mother and now her. Over three hundred thousand miles, and the Geo was hanging on by a thread… aknocking-oily-thread.
The interior of Drake’s Camry was pale tan leather complete with the darkest tint she’d ever seen. Pristine. Goodness, the man probably drove with plastic gloves on compared to her makeup-stained steering wheel. It kept the interior cool, and she put plastic sheets from the garden center over the driver’s seat, terrified her blue jeans would rub color on the immaculate car. Honestly, the whole thing was ridiculous, but she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth – and nearly drove past her rental house when she saw Drake in the yard working.
He was gonna flip his anal-retentive lid when he saw the two splotches of white bird doodie that had smeared due to the wind. Pulling into the driveway, she saw him look up from where he had what looked like a steak knife with a green handle, cutting out a lump of grass from the yard. Would that be the instrument he used to ‘off’ her once he’d reached his limit?
Drake sat back on his knees, watching and waiting for her to get out of the car… and Steffi sighed. There was no avoiding this confrontation. He’d given her a cell phone, an engagement ring, heck – loaned her his freakin’ car. He’d spent money on her to make this fake engagement look real, and she was just going to have to take the verbal tongue lashing on the chin like a good girl.
Drawing in a deep breath, she braced herself and smiled wanly. “Hi Douche-Wanker.”
He frowned.
Uh oh…
“That makes you Mrs. Wanker,” he said instead, his tone even and tight. “Hi, right back ‘atcha - or would you prefer Mrs. Walker?”
“Hm. You know, I never imagined you’d make a valid point that would have merit, but I guess there’s a first for everything, isn’t there? No more ‘wanker’ comments.”
“Oh, thank heavens…” he muttered.
“I’ve got a whole slew of other things I can use instead, like Dumb Worrier, Dump Worker, Driven…”
“Insane?” he interrupted curtly – but there was a slight upturn to his mouth that stopped her as she chuckled.
“That starts with an ‘I’ – not a ‘W’… which means the ‘Dumb’ part sticks.”
“Gee. I’m so lucky,” he said drolly – but they were both smirking at each other across the yard now.
Was this banter crossing into the flirting zone? Say it isn’t so…
“What are you doing?” she asked politely. “Digging the slowest grave on earth?”
“Removing the crabgrass clumps that have invaded my yard,” he countered, and then a slow smile spread across his face. “But your suggestion has merit. Are you busy Friday?”
“Are you asking me out?” she gaped in shock. Maybe he was actually flirting with her? Oh my gosh, what would that be like to have this guy paying attention to her in a good way – not commenting negatively on everything she did… including breathing.
“Heavens no – do I look stupid?” Drake said flatly, frowning.
And there it was, she thought immediately.Crisis averted.
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
“I have a baseball game – and I thought you might like to go.”