I slid into the driver’s seat, turned the key, and?—
Nothing.
Well, not nothing. A sad cough. A weak whine. Then nothing.
“Don’t do this to me,” I whispered, trying again. The engine made a noise like a dying blender and gave up.
Shit.I hadn’t done anything, had I? Hit anything?
I tried one more time. The car responded by flickering the dash lights once, then going dark.
“Cool,” I groaned, dropping my head to the steering wheel. “Love that.”
I looked up at the dark warehouse. The light was already drained from the sky, and it suddenly felt a lot creepier being alone here in the parking lot.
I scrambled out of the car, locked it, and hustled back inside. Norman was at the far end of the space, taking measurements. He turned as I approached. “Forget something?”
“My car won’t start,” I said, a little breathless.
He waved a hand. “I was just talking to Logan about the reception. You can call him back in the office.”
I blinked. Obviously. That’s what boyfriends were for.
Chapter
Fourteen
Norman stoodin his office and watched while I dialled Logan’s number, making it impossible to call my dad instead.
Logan answered on the second ring, short of breath. “Yeah?”
My mind was instantly doing somersaults. Was he working out? Was he?—?
“Hey, it’s me.”
Pause. “Hey.” The TV echoed in the background. Okay, so he probably didn’t have company over then?
“Um, I’m at the gallery and my car—well, Jenna’s car—isn’t starting.” I glanced up. Norman was organizing something on a bookshelf that was new since the last time I was here.
“Is someone there with you?”
“Yeah. Norman M—Mr. Marcus is here.” Damn it. I couldn’t say his full name with him standing right in front of me.
Logan huffed a small laugh. “I just got home from practice. Let me grab keys. I’ll be there in fifteen.”
“You don’t have to—” I started, but he cut me off.
“Crystal. I’m coming.”
I exhaled. “Okay. Thanks.” Besides the fifteen minute guesstimate he gave, I had no idea where he lived. The only thing I did know was that his house was big enough to host a party.
I replaced the handset.
Norman turned to face me. “You can call me Norman, you know.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. “I didn’t want to be disrespectful.”
He looked amused. “All sorted?”
