“This is the classiest limo I’ve ever seen,” Cora said, not bothering to hide her wonder. “I bet no bachelorette party has ever set foot in this thing.”
“Mercedes S600 Pullman. They call it the ‘dictator mobile,’ so we’re in good company.”
Cora climbed into the cream-colored interior. “Wait a second, there are only four seats. You said there would be eight of us total.”
“Yup, my crew is meeting us there, but we’ll probably all pile in here to get to the after party. I thought you and I could drive around town first and check out the lights.”
Cora realized that Charlie’s buffer of friends weren’t going to be a buffer at all. He was already breaking the rules.
He interrupted her thoughts, placing his hand on top of hers. “You look beautiful.”
Cora turned to him. He was staring at her with barely concealed hunger.
“Thank you. You do, too.”
He laughed at her.
“I mean, handsome. You look handsome.”
“Do you realize that’s the first compliment you’ve ever paid me? I used to get jealous of Oliver because you complimented him all the time.”
“I always complimented you on your performance!”
“Oh, sure, you told me I could do a mean down-stay, but you never complimentedme.”
Cora was confused. “Well, that wouldn’t have been ... appropriate. I mean, what would you have wanted me to say?”
“That you were wildly attracted to me because I’m so devastatingly hot.”
Cora rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, Madison would’ve loved that.Superprofessional.”
“I seem to remember someone being exceedingly unprofessional in my bedroom a few weeks ago...”
Cora blushed.
“And hey, we’re done with training now, so the employee-employer boundaries no longer apply.” Charlie leaned toward her, and she caught her breath. “Sorry, but I can’t wait any longer. The hell with the pact.”
Cora readied herself to meet his kiss, even though it didn’t feel right in the fading light of day, sitting behind a driver who was pretending not to watch in the rearview mirror. Their lips were inches apart when the car lurched to a stop. Charlie had to throw his hand on the seat in front of him to keep from falling.
“Sorry about that,” the driver said over his shoulder. “The end of rush hour traffic. We’re going to be here for a bit.”
Cora looked out the windshield and saw a line of brake lights snaking ahead of them, and then peered out her window to orient herself, only to realize that they were just three blocks from her apartment. On the sidewalk, just beyond the row of parked cars, she could see someone struggling with two large dogs.
She looked closer at the filthy dogs and noticed that one of them was being walked on a knotted plastic garbage bag instead of a leash. The other had a belt fashioned into a makeshift leash. “Homeless guy with his dogs,” she said quietly. “I always feel so bad for them.”
Charlie looked over her shoulder at the trio. “The dogs or the guy?”
“All of them.” Cora watched the man struggle to hold on to the dogs. Most homeless people seemed to have a spiritual connection to their dogs, as if the rigors of living on the streets formed a bond stronger than any pampered pet dog could offer its owner. These dogs, though, seemed disconnected from this man, almost as if they were trying to water-ski away from him. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Maybe they weren’t his at all. Was she watching a dog abduction in progress?
She turned her attention to the man. He was a short overweight African American man in a T-shirt with his jacket knotted around his waist. A red jacket.
“That’s Joe!” Cora shrieked. She looked at Charlie. “Joe Elvis! I know him!” She started banging on the controls on the door handle, trying to open the window.
“Joe,” she shouted out the window once she got it down. He turned in a half circle. “Over here, in the car!”
“Hey girl, I been looking for you!” he called back, grinning widely, as if he wasn’t at all surprised to see her leaning out of the limo window. “Lookit at what I found.” He gestured to the dogs. “I don’t know where they live. They ran away during that storm, I think.” The two dogs dragged him toward the limo.
Cora couldn’t tell where the mud stopped and the dogs began, but she knew the lean pair were pointers of some sort. Then it hit her.
