Page 33 of No Limos Allowed


Font Size:

She squinted up at me. "So you're telling me…you'll work for food?"

I nodded. "That's what I'm telling you."

"Oh, come on. You can't be that desperate."

"Can't I?"

She blinked, and I could see her trying to decide if this was an elaborate joke or a strange cry for help.

While she was thinking, I added, "I'd also need transportation."

Her eyes filled with mischief as a horse-drawn carriage clattered past. With a twitch of her lips, she asked, "You mean like a horse?"

I gave her a look. "Yougota horse?"

"No," she said, looking ready to laugh. "I'm just making a point."

"Which is…?"

"I know you're joking."

"AndIknow I'm not."

She hesitated. "Seriously?"

"Dead serious. But I'd still need transportation." I glanced toward the street. "And I'm no cowboy." The analogy didn't quite fit considering that every horse within sight was pulling a carriage. But the point remained. I wasn't about to saddle up – or sign on to feed something larger than myself.

Maisie asked, "So…you want a bike?"

"Not for keeps," I said. "Just to use."

"For how long?"

"We'll get to that later," I said. "But the wayIsee it, if I'm working at a bike shop, it's a decent perk. Cheap for you, nice for me. Call it a fair trade."

Her expression turned thoughtful. "So sandwiches and a bike."

"Anda lock."

"For the bike?" She gave me a funny look. "You wouldn't need one."

Yeah, right. "And why's that?"

She gestured toward the sidewalk. "You see any locks on those?"

I looked. Sure enough, at least a dozen bikes were lined up outside the café across the street – not a lock in sight.

"Huh," I said, taking all of it in. "Is that normal?"

"Here, it is."

I was still eyeing the bikes. "Unbelievable."

"Or maybe you just think so, because you're used to the city."

I looked back to Maisie. "Who says I'm from the city?"

Her eyebrows lifted. "Are you saying you're not?"