“You’re Madison Clark?”
“Yes, my father was sending someone to pick me up, but I guess I didn’t realize it would be an Uber.” She leaned in close. “The thing is, I can’t afford you.”
“Excuse me?” What the hell was she saying?
“I guess I assumed he’d send someone he knew, not an Uber I’d have to pay for.”
As she moved her suitcase, it sprung open and looked like a clown closet had thrown up; more tie-dye shirts, tap shoes, and lots of denim stuff along with four cans of SpaghettiOs that bounced onto the sidewalk, one of which proceeded to roll under my truck. I had no words.
“Son of a bitch, my SpaghettiOs!”
In a split second, she dropped onto her stomach, and her head disappeared under my truck. I looked around, wondering if this was a hidden camera show. “The socialite fools the Uber driver,” but nothing.
She reappeared with the can in her hand and held it up as if she’d won a triathlon before hopping to her feet in front of me. We stood in silence for an odd moment before she cracked a grin, holding out the can for me to see.
“Are you familiar with SpaghettiOs?”
“Uh, yeah.” Again, WTF?
“This is some good shit.” She dropped to her knees and started putting clothing back into her suitcase. “Damn suitcase. Piece of garbage. This has happened four times today.”
I bent down to help her. “Looks like you found it in the dumpster.”
She started laughing.
“Maybe you should invest in a new one.”
She shook her head. “Not when you’re pinching pennies.”
What was going on? “Are you sure you’reMadison Clark? You flew in from New York?”
She raised a brow. “Yes, it’s me. Do you want to see ID?”
“No, it’s okay. Uh, we Uber drivers can’t be too sure.”
She nodded. “Of course. I understand.”
We finished putting the clothing into the suitcase and stood up. “About that, like I was saying, I don’t think I can afford you or this drive to wherever the hell my father resides. Is there like a train or bus or something cheaper?”
Confusion consumed me. Again, I looked for a camera crew, but nothing was there. Was she a cheapskate who got richer and richer by tryingnotto pay for shit? Even in hideous yellow overalls and fishing boots, she looked hot. Her green eyes sparkled, and her cheeks flushed a little as I searched her face for the answer to whatever this was. Did she use her looks to get things the rest of us had to pay for? That was it; it had to be. And you know what? I could play this game too.
“Tell you what, this happens from time to time, and I do have other ways to deal with the cost of the ride.”
I tried to conceal my grin as I held her stare until her eyes grew wide.
“Oh my gosh, are you serious?”
I couldn’t tell if she found it to be disgusting or interesting. “Sure, lots of people live paycheck to paycheck. I’m here to help.”
She stood blinking at me with disbelief, and I literally could not wait to hear what words she would utter next. “So you have a menu or something to get the fare down? That has to be illegal.”
“It’s not illegal if you don’t get caught.” I raised my brows at the same time she furrowed hers. “Some just hit the appetizer menu for a moderate reduction, while others have the main entrée if you’re picking up what I’m laying down.”
She stared with disbelief shooting from her eyes. “I am shocked.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.” I gave her a wink. “If that’s how you like it.”
A gasp escaped her as she folded her arms across her chest. “I, uh, the more I think about it, my dad’s fiancé should be able to pay when we arrive. I hadn’t thought of that until this ghastly conversation occurred.” She cleared her throat and steered her nervous gaze away from me. “So, I won’t need to look at your menu.”
