"Why don't we go to Pretty, Please?"
Country frowned. "Do you like that place?" Jenna had never considered the question. Did she like it? It didn't matter if she liked it. That was where everyone from the studio went for drinks. It was close and convenient. He smirked. "That's what I thought."
They took the elevator down to the ground level, then walked into the mostly empty parking garage.
"They gave you a parking pass, right?" Jenna asked, trying to keep up with Country's long strides. He nodded and pulled his keys from his pocket. A truck ahead of them beeped in recognition as he pressed the button.
"This is nice," Jenna said as she strode to the passenger door. She waited for Country to unlock it, then pulled herself up into the seat. The seats and mats were clean, and it smelled like he’d recently gone through a car wash.
"I've had this truck for five years, and I don't plan on upgrading."
She clicked in her seatbelt. "I always thought if I got a truck I'd get one of those hybrids."
"So you'd get . . . not a truck." Country started the engine.
"They still count as trucks even if they don't have the same horsepower."
"Not a real truck." He turned on the engine, and Jenna swivelled in her seat.
"You know some comments can just turn into normal conversations, right?"
Country pulled out of the spot and drove toward the exit, passing Jenna's car still parked in one of the reserved studio spaces. "I thought this was a normal conversation."
"No, it's not." She settled her purse in her lap as he inserted his validated parking ticket and the gate rose to let them exit.
He gave a lazy smile that infuriated her. "Teach me then, oh wise one. What would a normal conversation look like?"
"A normal conversation would sound like this. 'I thought if I got a truck I'd get a hybrid. Oh, I've heard those are great. Which one would you get? I don't know, I kind of like the Honda. That makes sense because Honda's have longevity and keep their value.'"
Country shot her a look. "You could have that conversation with your Alexa."
"Which is why I enjoy being at home at one-thirty on a Saturday night."
He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and turned left on a one-way. "That's what you want?"
"Yes. I enjoy sleeping."
"No, a mundane back and forth where someone tells you exactly what you want to hear?"
Jenna sighed. "You know, if anyone ever told me what I wanted to hear, maybe I'd feel more open to arguments." She stared out the window at the sleepy streets. Most relationships and, therefore, conversations in her life required constant watering and feeding without flourishing results. Except for the friends she'd been in the hot tub with the night before.
Jenna straightened in her seat. "That's not true, I do have a good group of friends."
Country nodded, and Jenna crossed her fingers, hoping he'd take the bait and admit he knew who her friends were. "Who do you hang out with these days?"
She almost laughed at the ridiculousness of him pretending he was oblivious. "I think you're quite aware of who I hang out with these days." If he was going to call her out, she sure as hell wasn't going to play his games.
Country grinned, and that time, Jenna couldn't force herself to look away. "Fair. I wasn't sure if your friends told you or not."
“So you were going to pretend you didn’t know?”
He sighed. “You know, some people would just say, ‘oh, that makes sense,’ and move on with the conversation.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. "Hilarious. I was sitting in the hot tub with them the whole time Ryan was texting."
Country pulled over and parked beside a meter that wouldn't be charging fees this time of night. "I didn't tell them to say any of that, by the way."
"Ditto." Jenna pushed her door open and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Right in front of her read the sign, "Industry" in wooden letters. It meant nothing to her. "What is this place?"
