Catharine Bramkamp - Real Estate Diva 04 - Trash Out (44 page)

“How did you manage to avoid the
persistent
administrations
of the valet parking
team
?”

“Bribes.  Come on. Before someone catches
us and
kills
us with small talk and questions.

“Death by
a thousand cuts
,
” I
agreed
.

He loaded
me and all my red satin into the cab of the truck
and carefully, so not to call
attention
to what we were doing, pulled out to
the road.

“Are we going home?”  I
rolled down the window and
leaned back in the seat.  I would be happy to go home, any home that held Ben on a semi
-
permanent
basis worked for me. 
It
didn’t matter, I realized, where.  The open window
allowed
snatches of scents: the warm vines, the
sweet
raisin
scent
of dried fruit,
the
light
yeasty
wisp
of fermentation. My hair loosened in the wind. I closed my eyes and let the whole season wash over me.

“Nope, we’re flying to Vegas.”  He checked his watch.  “And we just may make it out of the River’s Bend airport.”  He pressed on the gas, and the rest of my
elaborate
hairstyle
fell victim to the wind.

“Vegas
,
”
I repeated. 

“It solves a lot of problems.”

I could
dress in
a toga
.

Be
married by Elvis.

Live happily ever after.