“My car broke down. I’m in Arizona in this crappy little town.”
“Jesus, honey,” my dad gasps. “Are you okay? Where exactly are you?”
“I’m fine, yeah. A cop gave me a ride into town, and the car is at a shop now. I’m in this shithole called Silvervale.”
“Language, Annabelle.”
I roll my eyes. “Really? Dad, I’ve had a day.”
My dad ignores the last part. “Well I’m glad you’re okay. Listen, honey, there’s been a development in the plan. The little punk who took those regrettable pictures of you at that party caved. He’s going to hand them over and delete any copies for the offer we made him.”
I smile broadly. “Wait, so I can come home?”
“Well…”
Uh-oh. “Dad?”
“Not exactly. The pictures aren’t going to leak, but instead, someone leaked the rehab visit. So now the place is surrounded by the press and they’re calling every five minutes trying to get the story of why my daughter is going to detox.”
I groan and bury my face in my hands. “So, Jessica’s plan just blew up in my damn face?”
“Our faces. And sort of. Hang on, I’m going to put you on speaker so she can run you through all of this.”
A second later, I hear Jessica’s whiney voice. “Hey Annabelle girl!” I roll my eyes. Jessica is one-part annoying, one-part cold bitch, and two-parts definitely trying to get with my dad. “So yeah, we’re going to deny the rehab story, obviously. Instead, we’re going to say you’re off hiking with friends.”
“So, I can come back now?”
“Well, not quite. You being around and being in the spotlight will most likely keep the buzz on the rumor going. If you’re gone though, it should fizzle out.”
“Gone?”
“We need you to lay low, Annabelle. The story we’re pushing is that you’re on a hiking trip with some friends for the next week. Maybe two. Just until this whole thing blows over.”
I frown. “Lay low where? L.A.?”
Jessica laughs. “Oh my no. It’s far too public. But actually, your car trouble might be exactly what we need. So, I’m Googling it now, and it seems like there’s a nice little motel right in town there in Silvervale.”
“Nooo, no, no,” I say quickly. I shake my head and sit up in Rowan’s chair. “Jessica, no.”
“Listen, honey. Jessica knows her stuff.”
“Dad! I’m not going to spend a week in a fucking motel in the middle of fucking nowhere!”
“Ooo, let’s try and watch the swearing, okay?” Jessica says sweetly in a way that makes me want to push her off a bridge. “You know, just practice good habits for when there are cameras around.”
“Honey,” my dad sighs. “I think this might be the best move. We’re doing great in the polls right now, and I really need this story to die down. Can you do this for me?”
“Dad, this place is out of a freaking zombie movie.”
“Well, tell you what. I’ll send you to France for a whole month to make it up to you after, okay? Or wherever you want. On me. Okay, honey, we’ll touch base later, but I’ve got to go do this NBC interview now, okay?”
I don’t say anything as I slump back into the chair.
“Are you there, honey?”
“Yeah,” I mutter.
“Hey, it’s going to be fine,” my dad says optimistically. “Think of it as a small vacation. Just hang in, order room service, and binge some movies!”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Okay, gotta run. Love you, honey.”
“We’ll speak soon, Annabelle!”
I hang up without answering either of them. Fuck, this sucks. This sucks a lot. All of a sudden, the nice little office seems crappy all over again. The thought of spending an entire week, or God help me, even more, here in this fucking town has my heart sinking and my anger rising.
“Fuck!” I yell. The door to the office swings open, making me gasp as Rowan steps in.
“Everything okay in here?”
“It’s fine,” I mutter.
“What were you swearing at?”
“None of your fucking business.”
His eyes burn into me before he rolls them and looks away. “How’s that working out for you?”
“How’s what working out for me?”
“Being a stuck-up brat all the fucking time.”
I glare at him. “How’s being a fucking mechanic working out for you?”
“Great, actually. Best job I ever had.” He smirks at me, which just makes me angrier. Even with how freaking hot he is. “So, your car is going to be a day or so, at the earliest. You might be in town for a while unless you’ve got a ride.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I mumble.
Rowan scratches the stubble on his chin with a dirty hand. It’s not even close to fair how hot of a motion it is, either.
“There’s a motel in town here.”
“Great.”
“You want a ride?”
“Fine.”
He rolls his eyes. “You’re a serious piece of work, you know that? You want a fucking ride, or would you like to walk?”
“A ride,” I mutter quietly.
“A ride…” he cocks a brow at me.
“A ride please,” I grumble.
He grins. “Was that so hard? Come on.”
Rowan drives me the few blocks to the Desert Eagle Motel in his flatbed truck. I don’t ask him to, but he carries my two bags into the office when I go in a get a room in the basically empty motel. He also brings them the short walk to my room. There’s a moment when I realize I’m alone with this rough, sexy, somewhat dangerous stranger in a room with basically just a bed in it, and I tremble. It’s not out of fear though. It’s more like having a naughty, dirty secret.
“I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know how the car is going. Might have to overnight the parts though. It’s not like we’ve got a local Aston Martin dealership.”
“It’s fine. I think I’m going to be town for a while.”
“Car shouldn’t take more than a few hours once I get the parts.”
“Yeah, well…” I trail off. No need to get into the details with him. Especially not if I want to keep who I am on the down low.
“Alright, well, enjoy your night. You know, Mable’s up the street has some pretty damn good chicken and—”
“I don’t give a shit about your shitty town or it’s shitty fucking chicken and waffles, okay?!” I don’t mean for it to come out like that, but it sure does. It’s as if all the stresses of the day tumble out in one explosive moment as I bark at Rowan. The big, tall, muscled mechanic growls. His eyes narrow at me, and I twist under that gaze.
“Fuck. Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out like that.”
He just shrugs. “You know what? I’ll definitely be overnighting those parts,” he grunts. “The sooner I have fuck-all to do with you and that brat attitude of yours, the better.” He turns, storms out the door, and slams it shut behind.
I exhale slowly and sit on the edge of the dingy bed. What a freaking day. I’ve not only managed to break down in the middle of the damn desert and been told I have to stay in ghost-town USA for the next week. I’ve also managed to piss off the guy who’s actually trying to help. Good job, self. I spot a mini fridge under the TV, but when I open it hoping for a minibar, I only find it empty and warm. I swear. I’m about to fall back on the bed before I remember just how gross the motel room is. I scrunch up my face at the thought of sleeping in this place and on this bed where someone’s almost certainly been murdered.