Page 17 of The Match
“Our electronics are probably dead.” I reached into my pocket to find out this was true. I’d get a new one tomorrow.
Grace gasped. “Oh no, you’re right.”
“Listen, I have a proposition. You wait here; I’ll find a cab.”
“But do you have any cash?” She was looking around, still not coherent of the entirety of the situation.
I felt my back pocket, which was bulging. “My wallet is still here. Soaked, but it’ll do. I won’t be long.”
“Okay.”
She was still glancing about when I said, “I’ll be right back,” then hurried off.
I didn’t like leaving her alone, but I didn’t have a choice. I looked left and right. This was a relatively deserted stretch. I liked that even less. I had no idea how long I’d have to walk to find a cab, but it was my best plan for now.
I was lucky, as a cab passed me only a few feet down the street.
The guy looked me up and down and said, “Hell no. You’ll ruin my back seat.”
I took out my wallet. “Listen, all the money is soaked, but it’ll dry up. I’ll give you enough to clean the car and buy yourself dinner.”
His eyes widened. “Let me see the money first.”
I took it out, flaunting the wet bills in front of him.
“That’s good. I’ll take it.”
“We need to go by the river first. There’s a woman waiting for us.”
“What the hell did you two do? Fall into the Mississippi?”
“Exactly.”
The man turned white instantly. “Jesus, you’re lucky you made it out.”
“I know. Come on, let’s go get her.”
Grace was still in the spot where I’d left her, holding her knees with her arms. She was still in shock. It was a good thing I was going home with her.
“Grace, cab’s here.” She immediately jumped to her feet at my words. “Can you walk?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”
Before I could offer to carry her, she darted toward the taxi.
I slid next to her on the back seat. “What’s your address?”
She named a prominent area in the warehouse district. I was surprised. I would’ve taken her for the type to have a mansion in the Garden District.
We didn’t speak during the drive to her place, which thankfully didn’t take that long. When we exited the cab, I looked around, taking in the view. Grace lived in a luxurious condo in a redbrick building.
“You have your key?” I asked when we stepped into the foyer.
“My bag!” she responded with distress. “No, I lost my bag. Oh no!”
“Grace, don’t worry. All that’s replaceable, yes?”
She nodded in agreement as we approached the concierge. He did a double take when he saw us. “Ms. Deveraux, are you okay?”
