Hollis shakes his head. “No one drives my car but me.”
From what I remember, Hollis is an English teacher. Or maybe a lecturer at one of the local community colleges? Something that Josh criticized as low-level but that he was secretly super envious of. Regardless, I doubt he’s rolling in money. “I’ll pay you for your trouble. Name your price. Really. I’m desperate to get to Florida as soon as possible.”
“Sorry. There aren’t enough cinnamon rolls in the world.”
“Wow.Wow.” I stop walking and put my hands on my hips.
I half expect Hollis to keep moving forward, leaving me behindwithout a second thought, but he stops. He turns toward me with an audible sigh. “Look, don’t take it personally, Millicent. You’re pleasant enough company, I’m sure. But this trip is about two things for me: dirty, dirty sex and inspiration. And unless you can supply one or both of those, the benefits of your presence seem unlikely to outweigh the nuisance.” He reaches out and pats me on the head. “Sorry, kid. Safe travels.”
The gesture is so goddamn patronizing that I want to hurl myself onto his back as he walks away. Stick to Hollis Hollenbeck like a barnacle and refuse to remove myself until he agrees to take me with him. But the logistics of doing so while holding onto my backpack and my suitcase are too complicated, so I glance up at the sign above my head and follow the arrow pointing to the rental cars.
2
•••••
Mike seems nice. I mean, I know that a lot of peopleseemnice but aren’t. There are probably some really nice-seeming serial killers out there. But what are the chances that I just happened to approach a nice-seeming serial killer out of all of the people waiting for a rental car at DCA? I’m not a statistician or anything, but the numbers are undeniably on my side here. Besides, we’ve known each other a full ten minutes now, and Mike’s already shown me about a hundred pictures of his wife of twenty years and their three elderly pugs, Rockem, Sockem, and Robot. He’s large and looks cuddly. Total teddy-bear vibes, assuming the teddy bear’s wearing a greige pinstriped suit from Men’s Wearhouse. He’s probably in his late fifties, and he definitely has no clue I used to be on TV. My instincts tell me that Mike here is about as harmless as they come. And most importantly, he’s procured one of the last rental cars in the metropolitan area and is willing to accept $400 in exchange for allowing me to ride with him to Charlotte, North Carolina.
As we wait for the overworked rental car staff to track downthe keys to our Hyundai Sonata, my new friend gives me a genuinely concerned look. “And you’re sure you’re not on the run from the law or anything, right? Nothing that’ll get me in trouble?”
“No, no. I’m just on a very important mission.”
“ ‘A mission from God,’ eh? I do loveThe Blues Brothers.” He chuckles to himself. “ ‘It’s 106 miles to Chicago, we got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it’s dark... and we’re wearing sunglasses.’ Kidding, we’re goin’ to Charlotte, don’t worry. Though Chicago does have some great hot dogs. Hey, did I show you the video of Rockem and Robot fighting over a hot dog yet?”
See? Harmless.
But just in case, I should probably let someone know I’m doing this. I’m not about to terrify my parents. They don’t even know I’m taking this trip in the first place; they turn into nervous wrecks whenever I travel alone and then inevitably guilt me into calling every thirty minutes to reassure them I’m alive and well—Call, Millie, not this texting nonsense. We need to hear your voice.Not to mention my father would alert every extended family member and old friend we have in the state of Florida that I’ll be “in the area,” making me look bad when I don’t drive five hours out of my way to visit them. My younger brother is currently studying abroad in Denmark, and I’m fairly certain if I’m out of sight I’m out of mind when it comes to him. Not someone I would trust to notice with any expediency if I go missing. And while I have a wide swath of people who appreciate my company in small doses (or maybe hang out with me because they like being able to say they know someone who used to be famous), I don’t really have any actual friends. Just Mrs. Nash, and she’s gone.
So I pull out my phone and text my favorite and least judgmental cousin, Dani:Was flying to FL but flight canceled so getting a ride to NC.If you don’t hear from me by midnight tonight, tell the police I was last seen with Mike Burton from Charlotte. Late 50s, Black, bald, pretty tall, and very huggable.
Within seconds, Dani sends a thumbs-up emoji.
Mike is going through his phone, still searching for that video of Rockem and Robot with the hot dog when the rental car lady returns with the keys. But as I turn toward the exit we need to reach the Parking 1 garage, Hollis appears behind me, his arms folded tight across his chest.
“Hello again,” I say.
“Hi.” Hollis gestures to Mike with his chin. “Who’s this?”
“Hollis, meet Mike. Mike’s a hospital exec headed home to North Carolina from a conference. Mike, this is Hollis, a grumpy, blocked writer on his way to a sex appointment in Miami.”
Mike gives Hollis a questioning look but says, “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Hollis replies.
“Mike has graciously offered to let me travel with him to Charlotte.”
“But you’re going to Key West. Charlotte’s not even halfway.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” I say. “I know how distance works. But beggars can’t be choosers. I’m sure I’ll figure it out. Maybe the planes will be up and running again by the time we get there, or I can find my own rental car, or a bus, or another friendly stranger...”
Hollis rubs his hands through his hair and makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “Fine. Grab your bags, Millicent.”
“What?”
“Grab your bags. You can ride with me to Miami.”
My hands find their way to my hips. I should probably be glad he’s changed his mind, but right now I’m mostly annoyed. If Hollis was going to give in and let me go with him, why couldn’t he have done so earlier? We’ve already wasted so much time—time I don’t exactly have. “I thought you said that unless I could offer sex or inspiration, you didn’t want me around.”
Mike’s eyes bounce between us. It’s like the video he showed me of Sockem observing a tennis match at their local park. Apparently, the pugs are very popular on TikTok.
