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It physically pained me to see her upset.
I was not a man who reacted to the sight of a woman crying that way.
It was normally my cue to tap out.
Get the hell out of there.
But for whatever reason, I was fighting the urge to pull her close.
“That’s what you took from all of that?” She swiped at her cheeks and shook her head.
“It’s very fitting.” I leaned forward, using the pad of my thumb to swipe beneath her eyes, one at a time. “Stop crying. Now.”
“You can’t tell me to stop crying.” She threw her hands in the air.
“I can, and I just did. So, your argument is already flawed, per usual, Tink.”
“I’m not giving you my address until you tell me why you’re firing me.” Her bottom lip trembled.
“For fuck’s sake. I’m not firing you. We’re going to the city. You need a bag because we’re staying the night.”
“I’m going to the city? With you?” Her eyes widened as she waited for an answer.
“Correct. We’re meeting with Mara Skye’s agent. He’s an asshole, but we need to close this deal before he shops it. So, could you please tell me the address to your home so you can grab a bag? We’ll discuss the rest of your insults on the helicopter.”
She nodded. “Take this street down to the stop sign and make a right.”
She proceeded to direct me to her house and then asked me to pull over.
“Is this it?” I asked, glancing out the window at the ranch house set on a large lot that was a good two hundred feet from where I’d stopped the car.
“Umm… you know how you asked me to answer a question and not ask one myself?”
“Yes. We need to get going, Tink. I don’t have time for games.”
She bit down on her bottom lip and fidgeted with her hands. “I need to take the scooter out here. My brother lives two blocks away, and I’m staying in his casita. It’s like a guest room with its own entrance.”
“I know what a casita is. Why the fuck are we taking out your hunk of junk two blocks from his house?”
“Because they don’t know that I drive this. I don’t want my family to worry about me. They think my car is in the shop.”
I groaned. Everything was like a fucking riddle with this girl. “Where is your fucking car? No more stories. Just spit it out. You can tell me.”
She let out a long breath and looked out the window before looking back at me. “My ex-boyfriend didn’t take our breakup well, and he stole my car right before I graduated and came home. He won’t give it back to me. So, everyone thinks it’s in the shop. I bought the scooter to get me to and from work until I figure out what to do.”
My hands fisted in my lap. I made an effort to calm myself down before I spoke. “How did he steal the car?”
“He took the keys, and he has it hidden somewhere. I went to the bar where he and his band perform in the city twice and tried to get him to tell me where it is, but he won’t give it back until he gets what he wants.”
“Who the fuck does that? What does he want?”
“He wants to get back together.” She shrugged.
I ran a hand down my face. This was completely unacceptable. This dickhead was holding her car hostage, and that shit would not fly with me.
“What’s his name? And what’s the name of his band?”
“Why?”
