My stomach lurches, and Miles shouts a curse that’s barely audible over the roar of the rumble strips. Coffee sloshes out of my open cup, splashing over the center console, but I ignore it. Clamping two hands on the wheel, I jerk the Jeep back into the right lane and glance in the rearview mirror to confirm the Airstream has followed.
“What the hell was that?” Miles asks, clutching theoh shithandle like his life depends on it.
“Just a little wind.” I try to keep my voice bright, though my heart is slamming against my rib cage like I’ve just run wind sprints. “No biggie.”
“No biggie?” he echoes, voice ripe with incredulity. “You nearly ran us off the road.”
“But I didn’t run us off the road, did I?” Not entirely, anyway.
Miles twists in his seat, eyes narrowed. “Do you even have a license to pull that thing?” he asks, hitching a thumb over his shoulder.
“Texas doesn’t require a special license.” At least, I don’t think they do.
He pales and scrubs a hand over his face. A spark of hope ignites in my chest. Is he going to throw in the towel? Could it really be this easy?
Might as well press the advantage while I’ve got it.
I sigh dramatically. “If you’re not sure what to say, this would be an appropriate time for something nice like, ‘Great reflexes, Lucy.’ Or ‘You’re such a skilled driver, Lucy.’ Or even, ‘Thanks for letting me tag along, Lucy.’”
He snorts. “I can’t wait to see what you have in store next, Lucy.”
I grin and turn up the radio, satisfaction coursing through my veins. “I guess you’ll just have to stick around to find out.”
Chapter Six
Miles
“Hey!” Lucy swats my hand away before I can change the radio station. “Driver picks the music.” Then, in a singsong voice, she adds, “Suck it up, buttercup.”
“Luuucy.” I’m not too proud to whine. Not when my head is about to explode from the endless stream of peppy K-pop songs that are melting my brain. “For the love of all that is holy, just give me five minutes. Five minutes of something other than pop.”
Hell, I’d listen to the news at this point.
Anything to get a reprieve so I can gather my thoughts for the Zoom meeting with the advertising agency.
With any luck, they’ll have a new list of potential candidates for the fall campaign so I can move on to other business. God knows there’s never a dull moment at Triada. The great thing about running a startup is having total control.
Unfortunately, it’s also the biggest challenge, which is probably why so many businesses fail fast.
Lucy flicks the turn signal, and I glance at the clock on the dashboard.
“Why are we stopping?”
“I have to pee.”
“Already?” She can’t be serious. “We’ve only been on the road for two hours.”
“So?” She shrugs and guides the Jeep onto the exit ramp. “It’s not like we’re in a hurry. Besides, you’re the one who brought the coffee.”
“It was a gesture of goodwill.”
“Yes,” she says slowly, as if talking to a toddler, “and now I’m going to go make a gesture of gratitude.”
A gesture of gratitude? Did she just—
“Besides, it’s a good idea to take regular breaks so we can stretch our legs.”
“At this rate, we’ll never get to Chicago,” I mutter as she pulls into the rest area.
