I blinked several times in a dramatic fashion before my brain caught up to the rest of my body. "HA. HA. VERY funny. Now, where's the real driver?" I asked dryly, shifting my love hedge plant from one arm to the other awkwardly.
"I'm your driver," Convertible Guy said, his smile growing wider. It lit up his face, irking me further. When he walked around to the passenger's back seat and opened the door for me, waiting for me to get inside, I took a step back, growing flustered.
"You work there?!?" He had to be joking.
"I said it was a good company. I didn't say I didn't work there myself." He shrugged, brown hair falling against his temple. "I'm just proud of where I work."
His knuckles rapped the car door, waiting for me to get in. "Are you going to get in? I mean I can show you my resume, the company website, or give you a list of references if it will help inspire motion towards the car. I'm pretty sure I can handle driving you. I promise not to hit any fire hydrants."
I pursed my lips to keep my mouth from falling into a complete scowl. "I'm going to make a quick call." Turning around, I called the car company back. "This is Silver Gate," Brandon, the elderly man I talked to earlier replied. I couldn't believe he was awake enough to have such a peppy tone, but he managed it well.
"Hi... um... Did you send the car yet?" I asked, lowering my voice.
"Is he not there?" Brandon asked, surprised. "He's normally very fast."
I glanced over my shoulder to find Convertible Guy leaning comfortably against the car, sporting a crisp black suit, arms crossed against his broad chest. Deep green eyes watched me above his easy smile. It was distracting. The open smile on his face left me off-kilter. I was unaccustomed to it. It made me want to smack it clear off his face. Anyone with that kind of smile was hiding something. No one was that happy.
"Do you happen to have any other drivers?"
"He's the best we have," Brandon replied after a beat. "And he so happens to be the only one available. Is he really not there? I'll call him. Please hold."
Before I could reply I was placed on hold. "Shoot," I hissed, trying not to panic. Please be someone else, please be someone else, please be someone else.
A moment later, I heard Convertible Guy's phone ring. Crap!
He snatched it out of his pants pocket and snorted before answering. "Brandon! What a surprise!" His eyes moved up to mine as he listened to Brandon. "No sir. I just found her." He smiled wider, watching my face turn red with embarrassment. "You are right, keeping people waiting is very rude. I will do better next time." He hung up.
Brandon came back on the line. "Ms. Winters, I am so sorry for the wait." I swallowed, looking away from Convertible Guy. "He should be there now. Do you need anything else?"
I swallowed, meeting Convertible Guy's eyes again, trying not to die of embarrassment for the second time today. What is up with me being completely flustered around this guy?
I took a deep breath. "Actually it isn't his fault. I was waiting in the wrong spot. Honest mistake."
Brandon let out a relieved breath. "Oh good! I'll send you his number so you can call him if it happens again. Thank you for choosing us to get you home safely Ms. Winters."
I smiled. "Thanks, Brandon. I appreciate your help."
When the call ended, I slowly let my arm drop, taking a moment before looking up at Convertible Guy. He raised his brow, eyes bright with amusement. "Anyone else you wanna call? My aunt? Cousin? TransUnion to get a credit check on me? Or can we go now?"
I let out a puff of air, the fight leaving me. "Yep. We can go."
He opened the door to the passenger's back seat again, dimples flashing as he tried to stop himself from laughing. "Don't. Say. A. Word." I warned as I slid into the back seat.
He leaned over the doorway, looking down at me, brown hair falling into his face and framing his eyes. "Wasn't gonna." He looked at the love hedge sitting on the ground at my feet, eyebrow raised. "Nice... uh, plant." Then he closed the door, cutting off my ability to sass him back. Stupid Convertible Guy...
"IT'S A LOVE HEDGE!" I snapped when he climbed into the front seat and pulled the car into traffic. I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. It was a stupid thing to have, and an even stupider thing to admit to having, and the stupidest thing in the world to defend.
His eyes looked at me in the review mirror. "Love Hedge?"
"Just forget it," I muttered as he programmed my destination into the dashboard screen.
"Kinda hard to forget a thing like that," he replied. "Your boyfriend must be a very interesting guy to send you something so... unique." We pulled into the evening traffic.
I rolled my eyes. "It's an ugly plant. And no, I don't have a boyfriend. And if I did, he would have been kicked to the curb for giving me such a ridiculous gift."
He laughed, baritone voice filling the car. It was a beautiful sound. Bright and warm like caramel. Washing over me like a caramel macchiato. It was exhilaratingâ No terrifying. It made my heart ache. A feeling I didn't like.
"You're funny."
I raised a brow. I had been called a lot of things. But never funny. Funny was for easy-going people. For people who deflected instead of answering honestly. I wasn't known for pulling punches. And I certainly wasn't planning on delivering any punch lines at a comedy club anytime soon.
"Just honest," I corrected. I stared out the window, watching the evening city lights swirl by, highlighting the cracks and hard edges of Los Angeles.
"So who gave you Uggo?" he asked.
"What?" I looked up.
"The plant." Convertible Guy clarified, eyes scanning the road before bouncing to look at me in the review mirror for a beat. "I named him Uggo. Who gave him to you?"
I shrugged. "No idea. There wasn't a name with the note."
"Oh!!! A secret admirer!"
I winced at the loud, overly excited reply. "Yep. But not at that volume."
"Oh come on! That's cool. It's always fun to find out someone likes you."
I wiped some pretend lint off of my shirt. "Not really. It's stressful. That means someone out there has been watching me like a creeper."
He snorted. "That's a pretty cynical worldview."
"Well, that tends to happen when you've had your share of bad relationships. Memories make for good teachers." I crossed my arms, pressing them to my body, like a shield. I tried to push away the images that attempted to bury me in shards of emotional glass that reflected memories like glistening daggers.
Flashes of a boyfriend cheating with my best friend, cracks of being broken up with at my family reunion, shards of being pursued for months only to be stood up and ghosted on a first date, a best friend who I had nearly married only to discover he was only doing it out of desperation to provide financially for his family. It sucked how many freaking cliches I had lived in my twenty-two years.
"They couldn't have all been bad right?"
It was my turn to laugh. It was empty and cold. "Yes. All bad. Not oneâ" I clamped my mouth shut as I realized how comfortably I had just fallen into a conversation about my love life, with a complete stranger. What the hell is wrong with me?
Convertible Guy was attractive. And that made him dangerous. If I got comfortable with him, I might as well add him to my list of relationship fails. I had started off on the right foot for the train wreck it would be anyway. I destroyed his car and then yelled at him for it.
Nope. I didn't date. It was a rule I planned to keep. And that meant no getting comfortable with said attractive driver.
"Can we stop talking about this please?"
He shrugged. "Sure." The car fell into silence again. I stared out the window, ignoring the stupid love hedge that sat at my feet. A physical manifestation of my fears. Stupid plant. Stupid Uggo. Stupid love barf plant!
"What do you do for a living?" Convertible Guy asked.
"I am a fashion designer," I said as I shoved the plant several inches away from me, feeling suddenly claustrophobic.
"Do you like your job?"
We turned onto a familiar side street. Tall buildings swallowed the city lights, casting everything into eerie shadows. The funny thing about Los Angeles was how different it looked when you stared at it from outside the city as the sun fell. It looked like a landscape sprinkled in stars. Dusted in millions of glistening lights and possibilities. But from the inside, it looked... broken. Creative and beautiful, but still broken. Like a forest of large looming trees stretching tall and powerful, but sporting rotten roots under the soil.
When you looked towards the sky, it looked like the city thrived, but the streets told the truth. They told the story behind the glistening skyline. When you looked down at the roots, they were charred, cracked, and dying. I was rather fond of this broken-down place that had put on a brave face for the rest of the world as it rotted on the inside. "Would I do my job if I didn't?"
"Most people do jobs they hate. It's a fair question."
I rubbed my temples, tired of talking. He was as bad as the Lyft and Uber drivers that wanted to exchange life stories. If it wasn't midnight. If I hadn't had to fire someone who tried to punch me. If I hadn't run over a fire hydrant and ruined two cars. Then MAYBE I would have tried to be more civil. Maybe I would have tried to be more conversational. He hadn't done anything wrong. He just so happened to be getting me at my lowest and most exhausted. "Look, can we just not talk?"
He was quiet for a second. "Sure. No worries." I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the glass window. Enjoying the silence that settled over the car.
But the silence didn't last long. The radio was turned on and a second later he burst into song, butchering the chorus of "Adore You" by Harry Styles like it was the most normal thing in the world.
"HONEY AHHHH!!!
I'd walk the tire for you! Just let me bore you!
HONEY AHHHH!!!
I'd walk the tire for you! Just let me bore you!
Likes are the only thing I'd ever boo!
Likes are the only thing I'd ever boo!"
Who is this guy? Who thinks it's normal to have a karaoke party while driving a stranger home?!? What the heck is happening?
"UM, hey!" I shouted over the loud base that made it feel like the whole car was subtly dancing to the rhythm of the song. I didn't blame it, the song was good. "I was thinking complete silence! Not music!"
Convertible Guy turned the dial, shutting off the music. "Oh..." He raised a brow. "Like complete deadening silence that leaves you alone with your thoughts? Sure that's normal and not weird at all."
I scoffed. "It is normal! You were butchering the song anyway!"
He rolled his eyes. "I was nailing it. If you think you know the words..." he cranked up the song again. "SHOW ME UP!" he shouted as Harry Styles rolled back towards the chorus.
I had the sudden and strange urge to give in. To sing at the top of my lungs like a lunatic, but my sanity was still in full control of my mouth. So I set my mouth in a fine line, hoping to keep any surprises at bay "NO THANKS, CONVERTIBLE GUY!" I shouted over Harry Styles.
He sighed, looking disappointed as he turned down the music. "Shame. I guess my lyrics are cannon then."
I opened my mouth to protest but thought better of it and closed it again. He shut off the music entirely, letting the car slip into silence. But as was his way, Convertible Guy spoke again, seeming incapable of keeping his mouth shut.
"It's Tate by the way."
I sighed. "What is?"
He pulled up to the curb outside of my apartment and turned to look at me. "My name. It's Tate. Tate Dalton. Kinda sad you haven't asked."
"Well, I'm not known for my politeness." I threw the car door open, eager to get out. Yanking the love hedge out by several leaves, I pulled it up into my arms.
I shoved the door closed with my hip. "Woah! Easy!" Tate shouted through the front passenger's window as he rolled it down. "Don't want you wrecking anymore cars."
I bristled but kept my sassy retorts and a string of curses to myself.
"What time do you want me picking you up tomorrow?"
I hesitated. I had already signed the paperwork. I didn't want to bother Brandon about finding someone else to drive me around. But Tate was the worst driver I ever had. Like, I was contemplating walking the ten miles to work, level bad. I also didn't want to take a Lyft or an Uber since I had already paid Silver Gate.
Crap. Maybe I can find a really fast bike. Or learn how to ride a motorcycle... but I'd have to buy a motorcycle.
Tate's head popped up out of the driver's side of the car, his arms crossing as he leaned them on the top of the car. "I promise to be more chill tomorrow morning."
"Really?" I asked. "Cause you are a little..." I waved my hand, trying to find the right words. "Not a little... you are a lot. Like A WHOLE LOT."
He tilted his head to the side, analyzing me. "Define a lot."
"Like your happy levels are freaking me out," I replied.
He smirked. "Nothing wrong with being happy."
"Is there really an off button to your craziness?" I asked, tired and ready to end the conversation.
He placed his hand over his heart, in mock insult. "Crazy? You wound me. That was hyped up on caffeine Tate. Not crazy Tate. I had back-to-back shifts, hence the singing. I will be on a normal sleep schedule." He held up his hand in a promise pose. "I promise."
I sighed. "Fine. Just... be here by six-thirty."
His eyes went wide like I had asked him to kill a man in my honor. But he composed himself. "Sure thing." He glanced down at the love hedge. "You probably don't want to hold Uggo like that or he'll go bald."
"Good." I swung the barf plant around to make my point.
He eyed me carefully. "Plant killer."
"Song killer," I replied dryly. "If you like this stupid thing so much, take it." I held it out towards him, intent on calling his bluff.
But when Tate walked around the car and stopped a foot away from me, it took all my willpower not to take a step back. I hadn't realized just how tall he was. The evening breeze sent chocolate-colored hair strands down his brow, tickling his face. His dark lashes swept down as he looked from me to the plant, lashes kissing his cheeks.
I caught a hint of Tom Ford Noir cologne, a blend of sandalwood wrapped in citrus, jasmine, and orange flower. I had to hold my breath. It was one of my all-time favorite smells and I suddenly hated that he had to have picked one of my weaknesses as his signature scent. It felt wrong. Illegal somehow. But I couldn't yell at him for that. Not when it meant he would know how much I liked it. I didn't want him to know. It was better to just hold my breath and not breathe. Foolproof plan.
He reached forward slowly, green eyes unreadable for a moment. A single moment that felt like it stopped time. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone serious.
I forgot what my question was. Had I asked one?
"What?"
"You'll let me take the plant?"
"Um... yes?" I breathed out.
He plucked the ugly plant from my arms and shot me a lopsided grin. "I'd be honored to take care of this butt ugly plant." He looked down at it like it was a child. "HEAR THAT UGGO! You are gonna live with me. Your mom has been declared too dangerous to keep you alive!"
I blinked, shocked by the amount of passionate energy put behind the decision to adopt my ugly plant. I smiled against my better judgment at his jest done clearly just for me. I tried to stop myself, but my mouth moved on its own like a freaking traitor.
Tate jumped back, eyes lighting up. "You do smile!" He walked back towards the car, opened the front passenger's seat, buckled in the ridiculous plant, and turned to smile back at me. "I must have done something right then."
He slid back into the car. "Goodnight Fire Hydrant Girl!" Then he took off into the night, Harry Styles turned back up to full volume, leaving me wondering what on earth I had gotten myself into.
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Thank you for reading chapter three! I hope you are enjoying the story! Or are at least curious to see where it goes!
UPDATE DAYS - A NEW CHAPTER EVERY FRIDAY!
What do you think of Tate?
If you like him, he shows up in another book called "The Author and Her Bodyguard." If you want to read it, the link to the completed story is in the comment section here â>
Will Tate actually be calmer tomorrow morning or will he continue to irritate Allie?
What about Uggo? Is the Love Hedge going to make a reappearance?
CHAPTER QUESTION - What do you act like when you've had too much caffeine or too little sleep?