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“Of course not. I’m circling the block, but I don’t see you,” I said. “My GPS is saying I’m here, but I don’t see you. I’m sorry. This never happens.”
I circled for another two minutes, following Petra’s directions, feeling like she was speaking in a different language. Granted, she had an accent, but she was definitely speaking words of the English variety.
“I’m sorry, I just don’t see you,” I said. “I’m going to park, and maybe you can find me?”
Petra blew out a breath but agreed. Two minutes later, a red-lipped, bottle-blonde, stick-thin figure pulled open my back door.
“Trixie?” Petra drawled in between puffs on her cigarette. “Are you my ride?”
“Yes, Petra, I’m so sorry,” I said. “This has never happened before.”
“Are you blind or what?” she asked briskly. “Hurry. I’m late now, and I can’t be late to meet Victor or he’ll kill me.”
I wasn’t totally sure if she was joking or not, but I decided not to risk it. I stepped on the gas and floored it, heading to the destination she’d entered into the app.
“Wrong turn,” Petra barked a few minutes later. “You idiot, the directions pointed the other way.”
I glanced down, and sure enough, she was right. I could’ve sworn I’d double checked the upcoming signal, and it’d pointed to the left. Now it was clearly pointing right. I cursed under my breath and pulled an illegal U-turn. The sound of a siren approaching made my blood boil.
“This is bullshit,” Petra muttered. “Let me out of here.”
Petra was out of the car before a member of The Hollow’s police department approached my window. I gave a poor attempt at sweet talking my way out of a ticket. Not surprisingly, it didn’t work. I drove away several minutes later with a ticket in hand and a fine to pay.
Not only had my first fare of the day ditched me, but I’d actually had to pay for the effort of picking her up and driving her around. After I turned around, I watched Petra puff angrily on a cigarette as I passed her standing at the end of the street, presumably for another ride. She flicked me off, and I muttered a sorry out the window as I blew through a red light. Except I could’ve sworn the light wasn’t red a minute ago. Had there even been a yellow?
I decreased my speed until I was cruising at a turtle’s pace. I racked my brain for what could possibly be happening to me. Was I that distracted because of my conversation this morning with Emmy?
A beep sounded on my phone. Someone was requesting a ride just two blocks away. I drove the two blocks, carefully parked the car, and then stepped onto the pavement. My fare, a man named Jimmy, found me a minute later and was tickled pink when I opened the car door for him.
“So now my rides come with a pretty chauffeur?” Jimmy, a big man with lots of chest hair, gave me a wink and a smile. “Do I gotta pay extra for that?”
I groaned, flipped my pink pepper spray into the cupholder so he could see it, and started driving.
Unfortunately, Jimmy was less tickled pink when his ride came to a very unhappy ending. Some twenty-five minutes later, we weren’t any closer to the strip club where he was trying to meet his poker buddies, and I wasn’t any closer to being able to find the grimy joint.
“I swear it’s this way,” I muttered. “The directions say—”
“What directions are you listening to?” Jimmy demanded. “We’ve driven around this block eight times. Let me ’outta here. I’ll walk.”
I turned back, hoping Jimmy would pay me something for getting him within the vicinity of said strip club. The man rolled his eyes, tossed a couple of bucks on the backseat, and slammed the door shut.
Another ride that had cost me money, seeing as it’d taken me so many wrong turns to go three miles that I’d spent the money he’d given me in gas alone.
I pulled over, feeling shaky, and decided to pick up a coffee from a gas station nearby. Something cheap and caffeinated that might help snap my brain out of the funk that was ruining my workday.
A few sips of iced coffee later, and I was back behind the wheel, blaring Taylor Swift and hoping it would give me a fresh lease on life. I felt better, mentally and physically, now that I was caffeinated. Extra caffeinated, seeing as Dom had technically already delivered a coffee to my door this morning.
Third time’s a charm, I told myself as I accepted a fare from Natalie in the app.
Except my third time was not charmed whatsoever. It was cursed.
I couldn’t find Natalie at all. She couldn’t even find me. I gave up the search for my third fare after five minutes of circling the block and failing to connect. I parked on the side of the road and pounded my head against the steering wheel, cursing the peppy beat pulsing through the radio, while I slurped down a very sugary and very overpriced gas station coffee.
That was when it hit me. Dom hadn’t stopped over this morning just to see me. He’d stopped over to hex me right back. The idiot had cursed me with the coffee delivery—he’d handed me a pretty cup with caffeine in it, and I’d looked right past the fact that he’d doctored it up with a revenge potion. Really, it was smart on his part.
I plugged directions to my apartment into the GPS to test my theory. Normally, I wouldn’t need directions to get to my own home, but today was an exception. Unfortunately, as soon as I looked at the screen, my instincts were right. I sighed, knowing that it would be stupid of me to continue driving at this point. At best, I’d spend the foreseeable future lost. At worst, I’d hurt someone in the process.
Seeing as I wasn’t willing to risk hurting someone, I stayed put instead and burst into tears. Big, fat elephant tears. Tears because my life was falling apart. Tears because I might no longer be able to live with the roommate I loved like a sister. Tears because I was on the cusp of losing the one place that had been home to me my entire life. Tears because I couldn’t even manage to do the crappy job that paid my utilities.
