Prudence: Fine.
Jack: FINE.
Jack: …
Jack: Please, don’t be mad at me I’m sorry.
Prudence: What is the model of the car?
Jack: I don’t know.
Prudence: It’s supposed to be written on the app.
Prudence: Jack?
Prudence: ??
PRUDENCE
I’m regretting the color of the buttoned-down I chose.Cream. In the rain. What an absolute idiot.
I’ve been waiting about forty-five minutes now, and I’msoaked. Not to forget that this damn shirt is now completely see-through, no matter how hard against my chest I’m clutching my little shopping bag, it’s not hiding much.
And I’m losing hope of getting back to the house before nightfall. Am I exaggerating since it’s not even noon? Maybe. But no one’s here to contradict my anxious brain.
The person who told me that in L.A, the rain never poured long, obviously lied. It’s been raining for at least two hours. And it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop anytime soon.
Footsteps sound behind me and I tense.
“Come on, Prue. Your Uber is obviously not coming, just let me—”
“No,” I grumble, squeezing my arms tighter around myself to try to cover the black laced-bra peeking through.
I hear him sigh just behind me and he starts pacing.
“Just go back inside and leave me alone,” I add, rolling my eyes in annoyance.
“What if I ask another officer or detective to drive you home?”
“No. I’m fine, a car will be here any minute.”
“Stop fooling yourself!” He snaps, stopping just behind me. “No one’s coming! I’ve checked the Uber app, there’s no one with less than a two hours waiting time!”
Jack said a car is coming. He wouldn’t lie. Not about that.
“Please,Ortega.Just leave me alone. Go back inside, I’m sure you have work to do, I wouldn’t want todistractyou.”
“How can I focus knowing you’re outside in the rain waiting for a car that may never show up?” he asks, crouching just behind me.
I close my eyes and release a heavy sigh. After what he told me, why does he care?
A beautiful, tall redhead in fancy clothes nestling in his arms, their twin red wristbands, the look of horror on his face as he’s spotting me.
“I don’t care,” I whisper. “Just go back inside. Focus or not, it’s not my problem, as I’m not your problem.”
I hear him standing up abruptly, swearing under his breath.
“I’m getting my car. I don’t care that—”
