“I’m sorry!” I yell again, readjusting my foot pressure. “I think I’ve got it now.”
“Youthink?”
“I’ve got it! I swear, I’ve got it.”
And I do. The car glides along smoothly, practically purring beneath me, and for the first time I actually understand the allure of a well-crafted engine. I drive for a while, lost in appreciation for the automobile. I might as well enjoy it while it lasts; no doubt Grayson will never allow me within a five-foot radius of it ever again.
I glance over at him and see he’s rubbing at a large red lump in the center of his forehead. It’s not funny — really, it’snot— but a laugh pops out from between my lips anyway.
His eyes narrow. “First she tries to kill me, then she laughs at my pain…”
“I’m sorry!” I say, gasping for air as mirth overtakes me. “It’s not funny. I’m not laughing. Really.”
“Convincing.”
Another snort escapes. “I really am sorry.”
“For the attempted vehicular homicide, or the shameless amusement at the goose egg on my forehead?”
“Both.” I grin at him, the first real grin I’ve had in days. His eyes watch my mouth stretch with an intensity that makes me nervous.
“Kat—”
I press my lips together to quash the smile. “Yeah?”
“I—” He cuts himself off. “Just… watch the damn road, please.”
Flushing, I turn my attention forward and focus on getting home alive. I hear him sigh, deeply relieved, when I punch in my security code and we pull into my driveway a few moments later. The air is unnaturally silent with the engine off.
“I should’ve said this before, when I first found out — I’m sorry about Helena,” I blurt, cheeks flushing. I glance at him. “I don’t know what happened exactly, but I’m sure it wasn’t an easy situation for you. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. She just…broke. Sometimes this life, the pressure… Not everyone can handle it.”
We’re both quiet. The air is so heavy I can barely breathe.
“I’ve heard it makes some people go on crazy camera-smashing rampages,” I say carefully.
He smirks. “That guy had it coming.”
“So long as you realize he’s going to sue you for damages…”
“I have a fleet of overpriced lawyers for exactly this kind of bullshit.” He shrugs. “They’ll take care of it.”
“Ah.” A massive yawn cracks my face in two. “Damn, I’m beat. Thank god we have the next few days off.”
His mouth flattens. “We do? Why?”
“Don’t you read your schedule?”
“That’s what assistants are for.”
I roll my eyes. “Typical.”
“Really though — why don’t I see you tomorrow?”
“Dunn, tomorrow is Christmas. We’ve got the next week off.”
“Oh. Right. Still, I’m surprised Sloan is giving us a break.”