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Genevieve rushed out to the east side of the back parking lot. Every second counted for getting on the road before Roman became suspicious and came looking for her. She pondered how to enlist Mr. King’s help while she tried to block visions of Roman bursting through the lot’s main gate. After fifteen minutes of hiding behind a parked car, Mr. King finally emerged.
“It’s freezing out today.” He pulled a sleek, shiny black key fob out of his suit pocket. “I should have suggested you wait at your desk. Sorry about that.”
“No problem. It was my idea to wait out here.” Genevieve beamed another smile, the kind that brought most men to their knees. For heaven’s sake, what’s wrong with you? Tone it down, Gen! It’s not the time to flirt.
Mr. King gulped and stuttered, “Through here,” in a surprisingly deep and oh-so-sexy voice through his jitters. He punched a code into a panel, opening a private gate without looking her way, and headed toward a few parked cars—executive parking, it seemed. Clicking on his key fob, the lights of a blue Tesla thrummed to life.
Genevieve spotted a Plaid badge on the back. “Holy shit.” She covered her mouth with her hand. “You have a friggin’ Model X Plaid?”
He fisted the bottom of his suit jacket. “Yeah, are you into cars?”
“Not really, but I’ve heard these things are really fast.”
Mr. King hesitated before launching words out so quickly she had to focus on processing them all. “It’s the fastest accelerating SUV on the planet. It can go from zero to sixty miles per hour in less than two seconds—at least that’s what the Tesla website claims, but most argue it takes two-point-three seconds. My opinion is that the right driver can get it under two.”
Genevieve’s mouth parted open in awestruck amusement as she observed Mr. King jump from shy to giddy within the same timeframe that he’d said it would take the most expensive car she’d ever seen to sprint.
“And get this”—his glasses slid down, and he propped them back up as he walked to the trunk to help her with her bags—“I’ve heard it can reach two hundred miles per hour. That’s faster than the maximum speed recorded in NASCAR last season.” He smirked. “Want to try it out with me in the desert on the way? I haven’t had the chance to test its limits yet. There’s got to be a mud flat or an empty section of highway somewhere in Utah or Nevada.”
“Yeah!” Genevieve smacked her hands together, eyeing the shiny black wheels. “That sounds amazing. I’ve never done anything like that before.” She smoothed her fingers across the deep blue metallic paint on the passenger’s side and watched him flinch while she touched his car. He was probably afraid she’d get smudges on it. So cute! Gosh, she wished she could flirt for a date with him. Her stomach dropped at the thought and, with it, all her new-found excitement. Unfortunately, a date with a nice man wasn’t her reality—none of this was. “I mean”—she bit her lip—“that is if we can get to the conference on time. We have to be there tomorrow by six.”
Mr. King tilted his head while those deep cocoa eyes contemplated her like some kind of complex math theorem could explain her reactions. Sorry, buddy, but there’s no statement that proves to be true when you dissect me. Good luck!
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks and rocked back on his heels. “We should have plenty of time for a test ride, and if we’re late, you can blame the loss of revenue on me.” He winked. “I won’t hold it against you.”
Her stomach tangled in butterflies. Where had this confident Mr. King come from? From seeing her excited about a car? This version of him was hot as hell. No, don’t go there! She needed to focus on getting to Reno, or Jed would tighten his control over her mom.
“We can’t be late,” Genevieve shot out tensely.
“Okay.” Mr. King nodded, studying her carefully while he opened the passenger’s side door for her. Was he going to analyze everything she said? “Seems like a bit of a role reversal here. Usually, I’m the one worried about schedules.” He shrugged. “But if this conference is really that important to you, then I’ll make sure you’re on time.”
“We’re on time.”
His mouth quirked into an adorable grin. “Sure. We’re on time.”
“Thank you.”
After she slid into the leather seat, Mr. King shut her door and pulled the nozzle out the Tesla’s charging port. He climbed into the driver’s seat, started the car, clicked a button on the touchscreen to open the private front gate, and drove them through, tapping his left blinker on.
“Oh, no, go right.” Genevieve pointed out her window.
“But it’s faster to get to my house if we?—”
“Please, Mr. King, just trust me. Chris said there was an accident and seeing that sort of thing makes my feet freeze. I don’t mind if it takes longer to get to your place.”
Ugh, more lies! She could actually handle blood and guts just fine as long as the blood wasn’t on her hands. But with Roman still parked in the front semicircle, if they turned left, they’d pass by him, and he’d notice her hair. The bright red was hard to miss. It worked well to draw attention away from her face, but now that Jed’s crew had her color pegged, the bright strands were a liability. She needed to dye it a different color asap!
Mr. King nodded, quickly masking a disbelieving frown, but she’d seen it. “No problem.” A mischievous glint danced in his eyes before his grin returned. “I’m certainly not the one in a hurry.”
A gentle laugh tickled her throat. “So the illustrious Mr. King has a sense of humor?”
“Occasionally…with the right person.” His smile lifted even higher, and her stomach fluttered in response.
With the right person! OMG, her mom’s words flitted through her mind. No one in this world is worse off if they rely on the right people.
Mr. King’s fingers tapped repetitively on the steering wheel as he maneuvered his smooth Tesla along the Aspen city streets. He really was such a nice man—he deserved better than what she was doing to him. She clasped her palms together, squeezing tightly. If Jed found out that she was allied with another man, would he kill him? He didn’t typically operate that way, but with his possessive feelings for her, if he thought she cared about Mr. King, what then? Her heart rate slowly climbed, and shallow breaths escaped her throat. This was wrong. Her mom’s words were all that kept her from blurting out that he should turn around and run.
“Are you okay, Gigi?”
