My One and Only (17 page)

“You’re such a weenie, Nick,” I said, smiling as the Mustang did what she was built to do.

“Pray, Coco. Dear St. Christopher, patron saint of travelers, please protect Coco and me from this insane Massachusetts driver. Amen.” Coco barked and wagged, then picked up her bunny and shook it. She loved speed. Of course she did! She was my dog.

At that moment, my cell phone rang. “Oh, service! How thrilling!” I said, grabbing it. “Hello?”

“You’re breaking the law,” Nick commented.

“Not in this state, I’m not,” I answered, not that I knew either way. The call was from Dennis. Well! How unexpected! “Hi Dennis!” I said brightly.

“Hey, Harp. How you doing?”

“Oh, I’m just great, Den,” I said, smiling at Nick. It occurred to me that Nick didn’t know Dennis and I were over. Hmm. I decided to keep that little nugget to myself. God knows he would run with that…divorce attorney unable to keep boyfriend. In fact, it might be nice for Nick to be a little jealous. “So, Den, you got home okay?”

“Oh, yeah. But what about you? The airport was closed?”

“Yes. Some computer thing. Software. Whatever. I’m on my way to a bigger city. I should be home sometime tomorrow, maybe even late tonight.”

“Cool. Well, I just…I just wanted to check in.”

Huh. That was nice. “What are you up to right now?” I asked, hoping to prolong the conversation a little. It was reassuring to talk to Dennis. Uncomplicated. Every sentence wasn’t loaded with a quadruple entendre.

“I’m at work,” he said. “Might grab a couple beers with the guys.”

“Really? That sounds great.”

There was a pause. “So you’re okay, Harp?”

Did he mean okay about our breakup? “I’m fine, Den. How about you? You okay?”

“This is the most boring conversation I’ve ever listened to,” Nick observed mildly. Coco was standing on his lap, her tiny paws on his chest, obviously having changed her mind about him. One scratch behind the ears, and my dog was a whore.

“Who was that?” Dennis asked.

“Um…that’s Nick. He’s taking me to the airport.”

“Nick? Really?” Another pause. “Your ex?”

Did I have more than one Nick in my past? “Yes. The very same. He offered to drive me, there were no rental cars, it was kind of a mess.”

Nick turned to me. “Can I say hi?”

I shifted the phone away from my mouth. “Why? Do you have a man crush?”

“Let me talk to him,” he said.

“Den, Nick wants to say hi. I’ll see you back home, okay?”

“Okay. Hey, Harp, take care, okay?”

“You too, Den.”

Not without suspicion, I passed the phone to Nick. He grinned. “Hey, Dennis, my man. How’s tricks? Is that right? No kidding. Nope, actually I didn’t know that.” He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. Well,
crotch.
If Dennis had just told him about our breakup, I’d be pretty pissed indeed. After all, it was personal, and Dennis shouldn’t be—

“She has her moments,” Nick said with a half grin. He listened for a second. “I know. Really? Huh. No, you don’t have to tell me.” He laughed, and I shook my head, disgusted. “She’s not bad, is she?”

“I hate men,” I muttered.

Nick shifted the phone away from his jaw. “Maybe you’re a lesbian,” he whispered.

“I wish I was.”

Nick laughed at something Dennis said. “Well, she’s mine for now, anyway.” I twitched, and the car swerved a bit. “Oh, yeah. She’s sweet, all right. In her own special way. Yep, that, too. Totally. Okay, good talking to you, dude. You too.” He closed the phone and put it down. “Nice guy you got there,” he said.

“It’s so eighth grade, Nick, talking about me when I’m sitting right here.”

“How do you know we were talking about you?” he asked.

“Oh, please. You were talking about me. You know you were.”

His smile grew. “Coco, is your mommy having a little hissy fit? She is? She has them all the time, doesn’t she? You poor thing.”

“You know what, Nick? You’re an idiot.”

“You know what, Harper? You’re doing ninety-three miles an hour.”

Whoopsy. I took my foot off the gas and slowed down. That was the thing with a car like this. Hard to stay moderate. My face felt hot.

“Coco, tell your mommy that not everything’s about her,” Nick said to my dog, who was now cuddled in his lap, staring up at him with her big brown eyes.

“Okay, Nick. You weren’t talking about me. ‘She’s not so bad. She has her moments. She’s sweet in her own way.’ What were you talking about then, huh?”

Nick smiled, his eyes crinkling. Not fair that men got more attractive as they aged. Not fair at all. “Well, you do have impressive recall, Harpy, but the truth is, we were talking about this car.”

My mouth opened, then shut. “She’s mine for now?” I asked.

“The car.” He glanced at me again. “It belongs to a friend of mine.”

Crotch! Nick did that on purpose, I just knew. I really did hate men. Especially this one.

After fiddling with the radio and finding no signal, Nick opened the glove box and pulled out his iPod, plugged it into the dashboard. He pressed a few buttons, and the husky voice of Isaac Slade, lead singer of The Fray, came over the speakers. “You Found Me.” One of my favorite songs. One of Nick’s too, apparently. The next group was Kings of Leon. I had the same song on my iPod. Not in the exact same order, but damn it, in the same playlist. Then came U2’s latest. Had it. Next was “Vida la Vida” by Coldplay, a song I’d probably listened to a hundred times.

“I think I’ve heard this one a little too much,” Nick said. “Mind if I skip it?”

“Nope. Go ahead,” I answered. Crikey.

So. We had similar taste in music. Not a surprise, I guess. We were both from the Northeast, both roughly the same age. Whatever. Still, it was a little unnerving.

We stopped twice more, me biting my tongue so hard I nearly drew blood and trying not to fidget as Nick voiced his fascination with the exciting dam and spillway in one town, and several huge grain silos near the train tracks. But eventually, we came to a town—a megalopolis, compared to what we’d seen thus far. Four blocks, a stoplight and everything. And, more important, a restaurant. Two, even.

It was very pretty…brick buildings with some nice detail. Clean. Friendly. If I was looking for a place to hide, I’d pick here. Maybe my mother had, too, at some point.

“You hungry?” Nick asked.

“Starving.” The six-pack of doughnuts was a distant memory.

No one else was inside the restaurant, and the bartender welcomed us with an amiable twang, asked us where we were from and didn’t mind the fact that Coco was with us. People were nice out here. In no rush, not like us Yankees, always dashing about from here to there.

Nick and I sat in a booth, each of us ordering a reuben, which was surprisingly excellent. Nick read the local paper, idly stealing my fries as if we were an old married couple, occasionally giving one to Coco. He asked the bartender a question about the area. Lou was a local, answered a few questions about the dams we’d just seen, then said he’d been to New York twice, and the two men chatted amiably about restaurants in the city.

Nick had always been good with people. Much better than I was.

When Lou had to answer the phone, Nick took out his book, a manly tome on the great subway systems of the world.

“We probably want to get going, huh, Nick? To the airport? So you can be rid of me and I can get home?”

He didn’t look up from his book. “We’re only a few hours away, Harper. Try not to stroke out, okay? I want some huckleberry pie. Can’t say I’ve ever even heard of it before.” He glanced up. “Life is all about new experiences, don’t you think?
Carpe diem
and all that?”

I rolled my eyes. This whole little road trip was getting a little…unsettling. I wanted to be home. All this sky, all this land…it made me feel exposed. Too many memories, too much current buzzing between us. Nick turned back to his book.

A couple came in, greeted the bartender by name and sat at a nearby table. Perfect. I could eavesdrop, one of my favorite pastimes. The man spoke first.

“What does my wittle kitty want?”

Jackpot! A man (and I use the term loosely) speaking baby talk? He reached across the table and tried to take Wittle Kitty’s hands. Kitty ignored.

“Is oo a wittle bit mad?”

Oh. Dear. God. I kicked Nick’s shin to get his attention.

“No kicking,” he said unquietly, not looking up from the book.

“Kitty? Oo wuvs me, wight?”

“Jesus, Alec, can you drop the LOL Kitty talk? I hate those damn things,” she hissed (appropriately, I thought).

“I fawt oo wuved da LOL Kitties!” Alec said, making a pouty lip. “Oo wuvs dose kittehs! Wemember, Pwitty Kitty?”

“God. Lou, can I get a beer, please? A Bud?”

“Um, Lainey, sweetie,” Alec said, using normal diction. “It’s only one o’clock.”

“Lou? A Bud?”

“Coming up,” the bartender answered, frowning.

The LOL Kittys man recovered. “Well, what looks good, honey? Other than you, that is?”

She sighed pointedly. “I’ll have a quesadilla with barbecued chicken.”

Alec smiled. “Same for me, Lou.”

“You got it,” Lou answered, then looked over at Nick and me. “How about you folks? Can I get you anything else?”

“We’re fine,” I said. “The check would be great, though. We still have a long way to go.”

“I’ll have a piece of huckleberry pie,” Nick said. “And some coffee would be great.”

Fine. I’d be patient. It was possible. Taking a slow, deep breath and resisting the urge to kick Nick once more, in a softer part, perhaps, I resumed my eavesdropping. Nothing else to do.

“Should we talk about the wedding, sweetie?” LOL Kitty Man asked.

“Alec, not now!” Lainey snapped. “Okay? Can we just…sit? Please? For crying out loud?”

“Sure, sweetie,” he said instantly.

Doomed. There was no way in hell they’d make it.

Alas, Alec apparently reigned supreme in the Land of the Obtuse. “You know, I think Caroline would be a nice name,” he said.

“For what?” Lainey asked.

“For a baby. A daughter.”

She stared at him, disgust and incredulity painted on her face with a heavy hand. “What
ever
.”

“Hi, there” I said, waving to the happy couple.

“Don’t,” Nick muttered, still reading.

“My name’s Harper, and I couldn’t help overhearing.” I stood up and approached. “Mind if I sit for a second?”

“Not at all,” Alec replied. “I’m Alec, and this is my fiancée, Lainey.”

“Hello. Harper James. I’m a divorce attorney.”

“Harper,” Nick called, glancing up from his book. There was a note of warning in his voice.

“I couldn’t help overhearing you two,” I said, ignoring my ex. “Alec, you seem like a nice guy. And Lainey, you seem…well, listen. I’m just wondering how you two are doing.”

“We’re great!” Alec said with tragic sincerity. “Um…why do you care?”

“Call it professional curiosity. See, I hate to be rude, but I feel compelled to point out that if you two are already having trouble, it’s not a great sign.”

“Mind your own beeswax, lady,” Lainey said, baring her teeth at me. She had braces.

“Let me guess, Alec,” I said quickly, ignoring her. “At first, Lainey was so nice, right? But then, once you proposed and gave her an Amex with her name on it—”

Nick materialized at my side. “Okay, we’ll just get going here,” he said, giving me a tug. “Sorry to bother you folks.”

“How’d you know I gave her an Amex?” Alec asked me, frowning.

“Car, too, I’m guessing?” I asked.

“Mind your
business
, lady,” Lainey snarled.

“Alec, I wonder if you have to work this hard now, when you’re supposedly in love—”

“Shut it, Harper.” Nick’s voice was low.

“—just imagine how—” My words were cut off as Nick clamped his hand over my mouth. He hauled me out of the chair and began steering me to the door, Coco following obediently, her leash trailing.

“Oh, that dog is so cute!” Lainey exclaimed. She looked up at Alec, her steely eyes morphing to calculated softness. “I wish I had a wittle doggy like dis one.”

“Want me to buy you one?” Alec asked.

“Wiwwy? You would? Faw me?” she said. She reached out for Coco, who wisely dodged away. Nick let go of me and picked up my dog’s leash.

“She’s just after your money, Alec,” I said quickly. “Make sure you have a prenup!”

“Sorry,” Nick said to the happy couple. He grabbed my arm again and practically dragged me out the door, then released me. Coco sat down and stared at me as well, as if in a collusion of disappointment. “Did you have to do that?” Nick asked.

“What? Tell the truth? Try to save that guy some misery?”

“It’s not your job to decide, Harper,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

“It’s like watching a car head for a telephone pole at sixty miles an hour. I couldn’t just say nothing.”

“Just let them be. They’re strangers, for God’s sake. You don’t know anything about them. Maybe their…thing…works.”

I took Coco’s leash out of his hand. “Right. And you know what else, Nick? The Brooklyn Bridge is for sale.”

“You sell everyone short, Harper. You’re such a cynic.”

Oh, those words…that condescension! “I’m a realist, Nick,” I said. “This is what I do for a living—deal with crappy relationships every single day. He’s crazy about her, and she can barely stand him. But he’s pretty well off, as we can see from this brand-new Chevy pickup, Exhibit A, Your Honor.” I pointed to the shiny black truck in front of us. “She might have a three-carat diamond on her hand, but Mom and Dad couldn’t afford dental care, because she’s only got braces now, Exhibit B. I bet we both know who’s paying. He’s a nice guy, bending over backwards to make her smile, and she can hardly look at him. It’s not fair. They shouldn’t get married. I’d bet you a thousand dollars she’ll cheat on him. I bet she’s cheating on him right now.”

I stopped, a little out of breath. Nick was looking at me oddly. “The window’s open,” he said softly.

Oh…crotch. I turned my head…yes, crotch. Indeed. Lainey looked nervous, her eyes darting between me and her fiancé as she twisted her ring. Because of course, I was right.