Test Drive (26 page)

Ripped jeans, a long-sleeved skater tee, and a pair of boots completed the outfit, giving Dale a grunge-skater-motorhead look that the kid wore well. Went with the sneer too.

“Hey, Johnny.” Somehow Dale turned his name into three syllables. “You done with Mrs. Rivera’s car?”

“Yeah. It’s just—” His phone buzzed. “Hold on. Hello?”

“Johnny.” His father sounded…off.

Johnny tossed Mrs. Rivera’s keys to Dale. “Hold on a sec, Dad. Yeah, Dale. All set and cleaned up too.” He’d vacuumed the sucker as well as spruced up the inner windshields.

“Great. So
I
gotta move it?” Dale gave a pained sigh but looked eager enough to get out from behind his service desk up front.

“Just do it, sunshine, and quit your bitching.” Johnny took the call into the small lunchroom, where an old refrigerator that had seen better days hummed, on the throes of death. The Formica table and chairs were sturdy enough if not stylish. They went well with the scarred wooden cabinets, ancient microwave, sink, and overused coffeepot.

He kicked back in a chair. “Yo, Dad. What’s up?”

“It’s…well…”

Johnny knew that tone. With a heavy heart, he listened to his father’s downtrodden explanation of his recent breakup from Kathy. Finally, a woman with a halfway normal name and decent personality, in addition to her silicone double-Fs and tiny waist. He’d thought his dad might have struck gold, especially because Johnny liked her.

“What did you do, Dad?”

“Hell if I know. Kathy just got to be too much. Said I wasn’t sharing, kept it all to myself. Kept
what
all to myself? Shit, Son. You know me. Ain’t got but a few thoughts rattling around in here as it is.” His dad gave a half laugh.

“Are you okay? Want some company tonight?” They’d made a tradition of sharing a six-pack of Bad Breakup Beer each time Jack lost another one, followed by a rousing night of whatever sports game happened to be on TV.

“Nah. You go ahead. If I know you, you have plans with your new girlfriend.”

“I do, but we can always reschedule.” Johnny loved his dad, maybe more because he knew he’d been the only constant in the old man’s life since he could walk.

“I’m good. I, well, I broke it off with her. It was just too damn hard to get through a day without another lecture on how I’m closed off. Woman nagged too much, and life is about living and having fun. Not about wallowing in shitty feelings, right?”

“True enough.” But Johnny knew his dad had been lectured on the same subject a number of times throughout the years. Johnny had no problems with his father. Life with Jack Devlin was about scoring a good time and enjoying the moment. Laughter, a good beer, and a nice-looking lady, and a guy’s life would be complete.

But Jack’s lady friends seemed to want more from the man. It made Johnny wonder if that’s why he never seemed to gel with his own girlfriends. Was he the not-sharing type too? Would Lara eventually throw him over because he couldn’t figure out how to communicate well? A sick feeling balled in the pit of his belly.

“Just thought you ought to know.” His dad paused. “I’m holding interviews for a general manager position this week. So if you can stand by me for another couple of days, that would help a lot.” And the pattern continued. When Jack went solo, he devoted himself to work. So much so he’d built a profitable business out of his club and bar in less time than it had taken many of his competitors.

“No problem. I’m good helping out, just not all the time.” Johnny liked to keep up with the girls at Strutts, especially to make sure the dancers were taken care of. It helped that Jack made sure his people were nicely compensated, that the club was clean, and that no one was allowed to abuse his dancers.

“Yeah, well.” His dad sighed. “I’ll talk to you soon. I’ll need you at the club during the evenings next week, but hopefully I’ll have the new guy or gal in place by next Friday. Fingers crossed.”

“Okay. Talk to you later.” Johnny disconnected, knowing his father felt worse than he’d let on.

He was torn, wanting to be with Lara but also needing to support his dumbass of a father. Lord love him, but Jack hadn’t had a lasting relationship in years. Even Kathy had only been a three-month fling. Hell, the one woman Johnny thought might have gone the distance had left fifteen years ago. To this day, he still thought about Amber and her generous heart. He wondered if his dad did too.

Now depressed when he should have been pumped about finally getting with Lara again, he finished work. He left for the day and cleaned up. Plans for a wine-and-dine date night seemed too superficial, something he’d do with just any girl. So he did what he’d decided earlier—to live in the now and appreciate what he had.

He picked up Lara at her apartment at six. She opened the door on the first knock. As usual, she turned girl-next-door pretty into casual-chic glamorous without trying. She wore her hair down, and it framed her face in a dark curtain of silk. A faint glitter of gold above her eyes, thick lashes, and a dusting of rose over her cheeks subtly blended to accentuate a beautiful face and slick, red lips he wanted to kiss and keep on kissing.

And there goes my cock. Hel-lo, Lara.
“You look downright hot.”

“Not too creative, but I’ll take it.” She smiled at him. “You don’t look half-bad yourself. Anytime I see you out of a T-shirt, I think you’re dressing up.”

“I am. Impressed?” He tugged at the collar of his black button-down shirt, which he’d tucked into dark jeans capped with his favorite biker boots. He fingered his hair, wondering if he ought to see Rena about getting it cut.

Lara read his mind, stepping closer to run a hand through his long bangs. “I like it a little long up top.” She kissed him, and his worries melted as he returned her embrace.

“Without a doubt, you’re the best part of my day.” A truth he really should start keeping to himself, but holding her, looking down at her, he had a hard time hiding his feelings. “So how did your Friday go?”

“About the same, and better than my Thursday. The bursar’s office is still giving me trouble with my financial aid.”

“Anything I can help with?” came out before he could think the better of it.

Fortunately, Lara just brushed him off. “Nah, I’ll get it handled. Besides, this is my worry-free Friday. My one day with no classes, when I normally get most of my schoolwork done. But Ray needed some help with inventory earlier, so I scored an extra shift. Not a bad way to spend my afternoon, especially because I knew I had a hot date tonight.”

“Really? With who?”

She chuckled, and they left her place and headed to his car. The air had a crisp, clean bite that refreshed him, and the cloudless evening let them watch the indigo sky blend into black.

“So, Mr. Hot Date, where are we headed?”

He sat with her in the car, unsure how to say what he wanted to express.

“This shouldn’t be a hard question. What’s going on? You look serious all of a sudden.” She took his hand and held it in hers.

The warm comfort he felt made him want to tear his hair out, because he felt a schmaltzy feel-good moment and couldn’t avoid it.

“I was totally pumped about tonight. I thought we’d hit dinner, maybe a show, add a little flowers and candlelight.”

“Sounds good to me. But then, I’m happy just hanging out with you. I’m easy.”

He paused, then had to say it. “Really? ‘I’m easy’? You’re just putting that out there for me to run with?”

“Please, Amelia could have run with that line.”

“At her age, I’d hope not.”

Lara rolled her eyes. “I
meant
I’m easy to get along with. Anyway, my point is we can just spend time together to have fun. I don’t need a parade.”

“Good. Because all that other stuff felt kind of fake. I’d rather spend time with you, focused on you and not some wackjob with a bad toupee serenading you with a violin while I try to act all romantic and shit.”

“You know, you can fool the guys with your tough anti-romance talk, but I know you read literary magazines and
poetry
.” She nodded. “Yeah, I saw those froufrou magazines you tried to hide behind your big books on literature and Hobbits in your study. You’re a sensitive guy who likes to read. Own up to it, geek.”

“Geek?” He sputtered, not sure he liked her knowing his books were for more than mechanical reference or decoration.

“Nerd? Dork? Does compassionate metrosexual work for you?”

“I am so gonna have to tie you up and act all caveman later to redeem myself.”

“Sure thing, brain trust.” She laughed when he cringed and covered his face in shame.

And then, somehow, his bad mood, depressing thoughts about breakups and lost love, dissipated as Lara’s bright laughter lit him up from the inside out.

* * *

Lara didn’t know what had put Johnny in a funk, but he seemed to break out of it easily enough. And if she could get past possibly having no funding for this term, meaning more loans that would cut into next term and delay—again—her degree, then he should be able to overcome a bad mood.

They spent an amazing evening walking downtown, hand in hand. They ate at her favorite soup-and-salad place, at his insisted expense, and simply shared the clear evening together. Later, they drove up to Queen Anne and enjoyed cocoa and a walk under the stars through a homey neighborhood she liked to pretend she’d soon move into.

“Yeah, see? That would be my style. An old Victorian with that gingerbread molding. Then I’d paint it blue, green, and purple.”

“Seriously?” Johnny eyed her with dismay. “I thought only guys could be colorblind.”

“Look. Tell me that’s not beautiful.” The moon shone over the house she pointed toward, illuminating its intricate detail. Looming oaks and sculpted shrubbery, in addition to the grand size of the place, had to put it worth close to a million, if not more.

“It’s okay, I guess.” He shrugged, one hand in hers, the other on his cup of hot chocolate. “You really like it, huh?”

“Yes.” She sighed, in love with her life right now. A beautiful man by her side, in the most ideal neighborhood under a cloudless, moonlit sky. If she closed her eyes, she could almost dream of her perfect future and pretend it was real.

“So, what? You plan to move out here in a few years?” he joked.

“I wish.” She kicked at a few yellow leaves on the sidewalk.

“You don’t feel like it’s a little too ritzy out here? I mean, half of these places have gotta go for at least six figures. Look, a BMW.” He glanced across the street. “And a Mercedes. Now we’re talkin’.” He laughed and shook his head. “I don’t know. This seems kind of unreal to me. Like,
real
people are living down the hill in
real
jobs. Upper Queen Anne is for a different sort.”

“It looks just fine to me.” She glanced at him but couldn’t read the look on his face. “I’m not saying you have to move out here. But I’d sure like to.”

“Why?”

“Why? Seriously?”

“I understand this looks nice on the outside, but everyone’s got the same problems on the inside. Kids who don’t listen, spouses who cheat, family who’re out to rob you blind.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. I kind of like it more authentic. In my neighborhood, people aren’t putting on airs. We are who we are. You come to my place, you know me. I work hard, I play hard, but I’m a real guy. Not some idiot wishing he had a bigger dick and compensating with a Porsche.” He glanced at the shiny car in the driveway of the house they passed, this one twice as big as the last.

“My perspective is a little different.” Funny that he seemed defensive about the neighborhood. Then again, a lot of her friends acted the same way. Better to make fun of the more affluent than to admit you wanted to be one and couldn’t hope to aspire to that kind of money.

“How’s that? Are you telling me you need a million-dollar house to make you happy? ’Cause I won’t believe it.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Of course not. You work hard to make a living. Or am I wrong? Do you work at Ray’s just because it’s fun? Amused by us peons, and screw the paycheck?”

“No, smart-ass. I grew up with parents always scraping by. I’ve watched them work just to make ends meet for too long. Don’t get me wrong. We’re a loving family, and I know I’m lucky to have parents who love me and are still married in this day and age. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my mom or dad.” Because she owed them. Lara lived up to her responsibilities. She always had, always would.

“Yeah, I get that.” He nodded and squeezed her hand. “But being rich isn’t the answer. Being happy is.”

“True, but I can guarantee money would make my folks smile a lot more. It’s better now for them that I’m out of the house. If I can help get Kristin out too, then maybe they can take a vacation that’s not one where they watch the grass grow in the front yard.”

“Ouch.” His smile looked brittle, but she had to make him understand.

“I’m not some money-grubber. I’d never be with a guy for money or what he could get me. I want my own money. I don’t need to be rich, but I need to be comfortable. You’ve seen my apartment.”

“Unfortunately, yeah.”

She frowned at him, and he hurriedly corrected, “Your place is nice. But the building’s sketchy, you have to admit.”

“What? Our neighborhood meth heads aren’t cutting it for you?”

He shuddered.

“It’s not great, but it’s the best I can afford while I’m taking classes. I’m not complaining,” she said to forestall his comments. She didn’t want him pitying her, or God forbid offering her money to help her out. “I’m proud of my own place. Of my schooling. I’m paying for all of it, and one day my education is going to pay for a nice house and a nice car.”

“And if you’re lucky, it’ll pay for a quickie divorce from the boring bastard living in suburbia with your two-point-five kids. Ech. Come on, Lara. You’re smart. You’re pretty and determined. You don’t need to live in Queen Anne to make something of your life. You’ll be a terrific nurse, even though I think you’re the best bartender I know.”

She beamed. “Yeah? Even better than Sue and Rena?”

“Hell, yeah. I love Sue, but she’s a little scary. And Rena spends too much time trying to pump me for questions about my love life.”