“Roll them?”
He picked up a flat paper and, in a flash, the pages turned into a tube. Sliding a rubber band over it, he said, “You’ll have to roll these before you can deliver them.”
“Doesn’t someone else do that?”
“When we had a bigger circulation, yes.” He grabbed another paper and moved closer to her. “But we’re small now, so we do it ourselves. It’s easy, just watch.”
He stood close enough she could tell his hair was damp, and he smelled clean, like he’d just taken a shower. No cologne, like Ryanalways wore—sometimes too much—and her other male friends and guys she dated. Great hair, though. Thick and shiny.
“Now you try.” He handed her a flat paper.
Oops. She should have been paying more attention to what he was doing and less attention to his hair. Still, how hard could this be? She took the paper and started to roll it. The sheets slipped out of her hands and separated, floating to the floor. “Sorry,” she said, cringing that she’d messed up such a simple task.
He bent down and picked up the papers. “That’s okay,” he said good-naturedly. “It takes practice.” He placed the separated sheets on the table and grabbed another flat newspaper from the stack, then stood in front of her. “Okay, watch carefully this time.”
She did and realized the mistake she’d made. She grabbed a paper from the stack. “I think I’ve got it.” When she finished, she’d rolled it perfectly.
“Awesome,” he said. “Try another one.”
Kalista continued to roll up papers as Tyler watched, getting into a rhythm. This wasn’t too bad, and she was getting used to the smell of ink and newsprint. When she finished rolling the last paper, she grinned at the neat line of papers ready to be delivered. “I did it,” she said, feeling accomplished. Then she looked down at her hands and almost freaked out. “My fingers are black!”
“It’s from the ink.” He handed her an old blue rag with stains all over it. “You can wipe your hands on this.”
She eyed the rag dubiously. “Isn’t there a sink around here?”
“Upstairs in the restroom.” Tyler pushed a cart to the table. “But we don’t have time for that. We’ve got to get these loaded into your car.”
“Truck,” she corrected. Bo had told her she could use it for the rest of the summer.“I don’t need it,”he’d said, picking up a toothpick after they’d finished supper.“I’ve got two more I use for work.”Healso gave her tips on how to drive it, and she did better on the drive over here this morning than she had yesterday.
Her father had a fleet of cars, and right after he and Bettany had gotten engaged, he’d given Bettany a new Bentley, making Kalista seethe with jealousy. She was stuck driving a Mercedes.
“Great,” Tyler said. “A truck will handle the back roads better.”
Mr. Hudson had said the same thing yesterday. Exactly how treacherous were these roads? This was probably the wrong time to admit she’d only gotten her license a couple of months ago— something else her father had made her do instead of his driver taking her places. At the time she’d thought that was the only thing he was going to force her to do.Little did I know.She had learned to drive in LA traffic, though, and from what she could tell, Clementine barely had any traffic at all, so that was in her favor.
They loaded up the cart with the papers and went outside the door to the back parking lot, which was empty save for one beat-up looking car. “Where’s your truck?” Tyler asked.
“Up front.”
“Didn’t Mr. H. tell you to park in the back?”
“He might have,” she admitted. Once he hired her, she hadn’t exactly been listening to him.
“No problem, you can do it next time. Just go and bring it around here.” He flashed her another easygoing grin.
Did this guy get ruffled about anything?
After she parked the truck in the correct lot, they loaded up the papers and she got in the driver’s side. Tyler squeezed in on the passenger side. Fortunately he was so skinny he didn’t take up room, but he still had to push some of the papers over.
He withdrew a map from the back pocket of his baggy jeans and handed it to her. “This is your route,” he said turning on the overhead light in the truck.
She glanced at a winding, circling trail that didn’t look too bad.
“You’ll need to memorize this as soon as you can, but while I’m here, I can help you with the directions.”
Kalista nodded, and they were on their way. For the next couple of hours, she drove as he gave directions and showed her how to deliver the papers. Some of them she could put into a box underneath the mailbox, while other customers were fine with the paper being at the end of the driveway.
“We do have five customers that are very picky about where they want their newspapers,” Tyler said. “They all happen to live near the top of the mountain. You’ll have to get out of the truck to place them where they want them. We’re coming up on Mr. Jackson right now. I’ll go with you and show you where he wants his paper.”
