The Designated Drivers' Club (3 page)

“Ah, there’s my passenger,” she said. “Have a good night.” Jenny flicked a casual wave at the man and worked her way forward through the crowd.

Lady Gaga, in full pink hair and overly exposed cleavage tripped out the door. Yes, it was a little odd that the woman was black but then, a lot of people wondered that about the up and coming star when she first debuted anyway. Besides, when a person had Lauren’s body, they could pull off almost any costume. A shiny red, four-inch platform heel clattered on the wet pavement as she walked right out of it. Jenny moved to her, grabbed the shoe, and pulled the chute on the umbrella. “Hey, Lauren. Did you have a good time?” She licked her teeth and forced the business charm smile. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the unfriendly, dark, umbrella-hater staring at her.

“Oh, hello there. Are you giving me a ride again? Yes, it was great. Really great. You want to check it out?” she slurred.

“No, that’s okay. Time to go home, girl. Your daughter’s getting worried. Here, get under this with me and I’ll get you to the car. It’s across the way.” Lauren shot her a puzzled stare.

Jenny held her hand and shoe as they maneuvered through the puddles. Forty minutes later, she had successfully deposited Lauren at her door. There was still another pickup waiting before she could make her way home to her apartment. Lauren’s delay had left her no recourse other than to ask Katy to pick up a couple of extras. Jenny ran her fingers through her hair, flicking it away from her face. After a drenching downpour, clothes tend to stick to the skin, hair mats and tangles, and makeup runs. Jenny knew she had hit all three — a home run as far as wet days go. A quick glance in the rearview mirror confirmed her fear. She was a complete mess. Some girls could run through a day like this and look glowing. She wasn’t one of those girls.

Tires. She reminded herself. She needed to get new tires. The tread was practically gone. On a normal day, it wouldn’t matter. In pouring down rain, it could prove dangerous or worse — cause an accident. She grabbed the pencil from the cup holder and added
tires
to the ever-growing list she kept lodged on the dashboard. Jenny had acquired affection for making lists. It was almost obsessive the way she made sure to write down new tasks, and then crossed them off when complete. Crossing the tasks off certainly brought a measure of self-satisfaction. With so few accomplishments to measure her progress, the lists were her only measuring stick. A quick glance proved that more tasks had lines through them than were added. “Good.” She grinned. If she actually chose to buy into the positive psychology thing, her cup was half-full today.

Jenny slipped and slid along the deserted road to the cliffs. She was late and she hoped he wasn’t completely drenched. As the car reached the end of the path, she looked through the glow of the headlights for his silhouette. The rain had subsided to a slight drizzle but it still hindered her view. She couldn’t see him. With the aid of the umbrella, she picked her way to the edge and called out for David. He wasn’t there. She panicked and took a quick glance over the edge, then chastised herself for doing so. He wasn’t drinking much lately — he wouldn’t fall, and he was anything but suicidal. He was an up and coming music talent with loads of fans and great reviews. He had either stood her up or grown tired of waiting. She tried his cell to no avail.

She slopped back to the car and drove home to her apartment on the off chance that he went home instead. David had taken to crashing at her place a couple of nights a week. Sometimes he called for a pickup, others he just arrived at the door with that happy smile. As she pulled into the parking lot, she glanced at her dark windows. A disappointed, uneasy feeling settled upon her. Her cell summoned her as she stepped out of the car and she glanced to see if it might be a customer. It was Katy.

“Hey, there. Where are you?” Katy said with barely masked impatience.

“Home, why?”

“I have David. He waited for you and you never showed, so he called back and got me.” Katy’s phone went muffled as if she’d covered the mouthpiece for a few seconds, and then she let out a giggle
. Holy Cow, is she flirting with my boyfriend?
Jenny didn’t care if the woman was committed, a surge of jealousy slammed through her.
Is he really a boyfriend?

“No problem, I’ll come get him. Where are you?” She tried not to sound annoyed.

“Don’t worry about it. I can bring him to you.” She sounded sickeningly sweet. David’s voice sang in the background as he often did when he tried to work through a problem with a new song.

“Are you sure?” Jenny’s voice clipped. “He hasn’t been drinking, right?”

“No. No.” Another muffled conversation as Katy whispered behind a clamped mouthpiece, “Here, why don’t you talk to him?” There was a short set of whispers, and then David was on the phone.

“Hey there, Jen. Where’ve you been?” He giggled. “Oh, my God, that rhymes, doesn’t it?” His voice was lilting and soft.

“Are you okay?”

“Fantastic, babe. We had a great night. It was awesome. The crowd loved us. We couldn’t get out of the place in one piece. This girl tore my shirt. You have to see it. She nearly ripped the sleeve right off!” He laughed. “I can’t believe it. Hey, Katy, babe, can you stop here for a second?”
He called Katy ‘babe’?
Jenny felt alarm bells go off in her head. She thought that was a word he’d reserved for her.

There was a commotion and a loud noise, and then Katy’s voice came on. “Sorry, Jen. David went in this store here. Look, we should be there in twenty minutes or so. Okay?”

“Thanks.” Jen hung up and tromped into her apartment, where she changed out of the wet clothes and combed her stringy hair before he arrived.

Another gift, this time a charm bracelet with a tiny guitar, graced Jenny’s arm as she headed out the door to pick up her first customer of the day. It was 4:30
P.M.
— an early start, especially for a Wednesday night. According to Katy, David had arrived late the other night because he spent an hour searching for just the right gift. He was lucky to find anything open at that time of night.

The sunlight caught on the chain and cast a small rainbow across her wrist. She smiled, remembering how sweet he’d been when he gave it to her. He was so excited about the concert and he wanted to celebrate. She very quickly forgot that she’d heard him call Katy “babe” at least twice on the phone. The entire situation with David was confusing to say the least.

The sun was bright for a November night, but its rapid departure behind the trees signaled the pending time change. Her call was at least forty-five minutes away on the far side of the city. Jenny punched the gas, hoping they wouldn’t mind the wait. Traffic was horrendous — she’d forgotten how bad rush hour could be when everyone else was heading out of town. She fumed and pounded the steering wheel as everyone slowed to a crawl in front of her. If it weren’t for her waiting client, she’d enjoy the twinkling lights of downtown against the dusk. She didn’t have the time now. She sighed briefly. All she could see in front of her was four lanes of stacked cars. There must be an accident. As she crept forward, she strained to see what was causing the delay. No sirens or lights. That was a good sign.

“Great,” she muttered. “Now, I’ve seen everything.” A guy chased a black and white great dane amongst the traffic. All four lanes of cars were at a standstill waiting on him.

“The entire freeway is shut down for a dog lover. Get the stupid thing on a leash, guy.”

The dog bolted right, and then left, as the man lunged after it. Apparently, the canine had no sense of urgency due to the surrounding cars — he just wanted playtime. His front paws went down low as he wagged his tail in an almost rotating gesture while waiting for the man to come close. Some of the car riders had stepped out and were trying to assist with herding the small horse toward the man.

After several chases and lunges, the man finally latched onto the dog’s collar, snapped the leash in place, and yanked him toward a waiting BMW on the side lane. The man shoved the dog into the back seat of the car, slammed the door, and walked to the back.

Traffic began flowing again. The man pulled his spare tire and jack from the trunk of the car. Not only did the goofus let his dog block traffic, now he intended to change a tire during rush hour on the side of the freeway?

There was a familiarity about the man’s stance as he contemplated the flat. The closer she moved, the more she thought she knew him. Still, she couldn’t place the car, the dog, or the profile. Then he turned and looked straight at her. A flash of recognition crossed his face. His brows jutted down before he turned his head, moved around the car, and bent down to his tire. Mr. Happy Pants from the bar on Halloween night. On a whim and a glance at the sky, Jenny careened her car in behind his and stopped. She crawled to the passenger side and stepped out on the asphalt shoulder. “Need help?” she asked. He slid his eyes sideways briefly.

“I’m good,” he answered. Jenny debated that statement. She peeked around him at the tire iron sprawled on the ground and the spare that looked worse than the one that had spread itself like cheese on the road.

“Good at dog catching or changing a tire?” Her thoughts spewed involuntarily out of her mouth.

“You just can’t hold back, can you? The sarcasm just pops out of you like hiccups.” He frowned up at her, squinting his dark, smoke-colored eyes into the sun that was diminishing behind her in a bright orange burst. “Not playing golf in the rain today?”

“Look, Mr. Happy Pants, I thought you might want some help,” she spurted. “I guess I thought wrong.”

“Yes, you did. Don’t you think it’s a little ironic calling
me
‘Mr. Happy Pants’? That’s kind of like Scrooge calling the Grinch grumpy,” he snapped, pressing down on the edge of his spare. She wasn’t sure, but she thought he’d just insulted the both of them. Did he realize that? “How exactly did you intend to help with this? Have you ever even
changed
a tire?”

Okay, that was it. An uncanny urge flowed through her to yank the tire iron away and wrap it around his head. Or maybe just fling it across his shin a couple times. She checked the urge and scowled at him. He’s on his own. She whirled around and stomped toward her car without answering. What a jerk. What an ass. What a …

“Wait.” She heard a clatter as he dropped the tire iron on the concrete. “I’m sorry. That was out of line.” He rose and walked toward her, stopping as the dog plunged its head out the window into his gut. He let out an exasperated grunt then shoved the head back into the car before taking a few more steps toward her.

“Nice dog.” Jenny smirked. “You have a way with him. If I were a dog whisperer, I’d probably say that he doesn’t care too much for you.”

He glanced back at the drool hanging off the dog’s lower jowl and shrugged. “Then the feeling’s mutual. I swear that thing is like a 200-pound toddler. Always drooling and eating, thinks everything’s a game, and has no control of any body function whatsoever. He’s not mine. He belongs to my boss.”

“Your boss? Why do you have him in your car?”

“Because I’m too accommodating for my own good.” The dog barked at him and Jenny could swear the man growled back. Immediately the big pointed ears fell back and the dog ducked his head into the car.

“I doubt that,” Jenny snipped, and then once again slammed her hand over her mouth. She stifled a giggle.

“Yeah, you should keep it there for a while. Listen, I didn’t mean to growl at you. It’s just been a rough day.” The man then grinned and Jenny was startled. He actually looked nice when he did that. All those harsh, angry lines just melted away. It gave an aura of — she hated to admit it — niceness. Dark curls framed his face which had the angular, solemn, sexy look of a — what? She wasn’t sure. “Look,” he started, “the spare’s flat too, and I need to pick up my boss at the airport in thirty minutes. Would you mind giving me a ride to my apartment and I’ll grab my car?”

Jenny dropped her hand. “The car isn’t yours, either?”

“No, it’s his. He’s … odd. Wants to be picked up in his own car with his ‘family’ in tow. Hence, the dog.”

“His family is that thing?” She pointed to the dog. The beast shook his head sending swirls of drool showering around him. Fortunately, he had his head back out the window. The slobber foam landed neatly in a line across his nose. Jenny screwed her mouth up at the sight.

“Now it is,” he admitted. “He’s been divorced twice. The dog seems to be the only relationship he’s good at. Or at least that he cares about.”

Jenny looked at her car, then back. “Sounds like a great guy. I can give you a ride, but I’m not so sure about him.” She pointed at the dog again.

He stared at her. “He has to go too. I can’t leave him here — he’ll eat the inside of the car. Have you ever seen a dog act out when it’s left alone? It’s not a pretty sight, especially when the dog’s that big. He’s already chewed up the back seat when Hodge left him in it once before. The man would probably fire me if I did it. Besides, it’s not safe.”

Jenny nervously looked at her Mercedes. The boss’s name was apparently Hodge. She wondered if her car looked like a doggy snack to that small horse of a mutt.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let him eat yours.”

“Okay, but you’re gonna pay for any damage. Understand?” She sent him her most scorching stare. It was lost on the man — he had already opened the car door and yanked the dog out. Ironically, the dog sensed his annoyance and showed impeccable manners as it strutted alongside. It looked at Jenny and she had the distinct feeling that if he’d been a person, the dog would have had a smug grin on its face. Jenny eased them gingerly into traffic. The spacious car seemed a lot more cramped with a 200-pound dog in the back seat, along with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Grumpy sitting shotgun.

“What’s your name?” she asked. “I want to know who to send the cleaning bill to.” She motioned to the back seat where another six-inch piece of slobber hung from the dog’s mouth.

“Grant.” He held out a hand. “Tucker.” He whisked the towel in his other hand back to catch the pending goo from the dog’s lip.