Page 28 of Beautiful Life
Pulling his brows together, he stops what he’s doing at his desk and stands up straight. “Why would I throw a fit?”
“You might not, but I have a feeling you will.”
He sarcastically widens his eyes. “I’m not five, Leigh. I don’t throw fits. Follow me home, I’ll change and we’ll go together. I promise you, no fits will be thrown.”
“Okay, I’m going to hold you to that.” I know there’s no way he’s going to keep his promise.
*****
Tony
Fucking-A. I think I might throw a fit.
“I’m not sitting in the back,” I say to Brendon, the car salesman, who’s holding the front seat up for me and waiting for me to climb into the back, which I am abso-fucking-lutely not going to do.
“It’ll just be for a little while, then we can pull over and all switch around. I’d like to sit up front with her and show her around the controls as she test drives,” Brendon responds with a smarmy smile.
I’m sure he’d like to show Leigh around. I’m positive he’d like to do more than that with Leigh. He was all over us like scum on a pond when I pulled in driving Leigh’s two-seater BMW. But I know his scum to our pond has more to do with the way he keeps raking his beady eyes over Leigh than it has to do with selling her a clown car. I’m sure he wants to sit close to her in the front seat, which is the only way you can sit next someone in a damn clown car.
“Not gonna happen,” I bite out and look over the clown car at Leigh, who’s biting her lip to keep from laughing. Probably at me because she can tell I’m about to throw a fit. “It’s small enough, I’m pretty sure you can talk her through the controls from the backseat. Not to mention, it’s a car, not the space shuttle. I’m sure she can figure out the controls on her own.”
Brendon glares at me out of the corner of his eye before begrudgingly climbing in the back of the ridiculous VW Beetle we are about to test drive. I look back over the car at Leigh, who looks like she’s having a lot of fun and not able to bite back her giggles any longer. That look on her face almost makes me feel better about climbing into this car. She looks more like the old Leigh I remember. I grin back at her as I throw back the front seat, hoping to slam it into the asshole car salesman who is now in the back but I’d rather he be in the miniature trunk.
“Climb in sweetheart. Let’s give her a go.” She grins again as we climb in to the confined space. I move my seat back as far as it would go, hitting Brendon’s knees. I smile to myself. “Fire her up.”
Starting the car and pulling out of the dealership, Leigh navigates the clown car through traffic. I feel the salesman move through our front seats, leaning into Leigh pointing out the features of the car. Which are the same damn features on all cars.
I move around in my small space and suggest, “You should buckle up.”
“I’m fine,” he says without giving me a glance.
“Brendon,” I bite and wait until he looks over to me. “You should buckle up. It’s the law. I’m an attorney, I should know.”
He huffs before he sits back to reach for his buckle. I turn back to the front and try to enjoy the miserable ride.
I look over at Leigh and she looks like she’s having fun and not just with the test drive but also my exchange with Brendon. “Are you sure you don’t want something bigger?”
She doesn’t look away from the road. “This is bigger than my BMW.”
“True. But I was thinking you’d want to move to at least a four door. This is hardly what I would consider bigger.”
That’s when Brendon starts to point out the trunk space, an outlet for her iPod, and the vanity mirror. Wanting to get his attention off Leigh, I ask, “What’s the safety rating?”
“Top in its Class,” Brendon answers.
“For compact cars,” I add.
“Well, yes. That is its Class,” he answers.
“Gem, maybe you should think about a different Class of cars. Go for a crossover, a small SUV.”
“Well,” she starts hesitantly. “I’ve always wanted one of these.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
