“Just don’t get us killed,” I said as I fastened the seatbelt.
Drew laughed, gunned the engine and took off. But it was all for effect, he slowed to a reasonable speed as we hit the highway.
We arrived at the assisted living facility in record time and Drew deftly tucked his ridiculously expensive car into a single space instead of taking up two or three. That caught me by surprise and while I could appreciate his desire not to bethatperson, I worried about how I was going to get in and out of the car without creating a door ding.
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I just—” I opened the door and stepped out, careful not to hit the car parked inches from his. “—I guess I expected you to take up an extra parking space to protect the car,” I said realizing how ridiculous it sounded once it came out of my mouth.
Drew stared at me as if he were trying to figure out what the hell I was talking about and I could feel my cheeks heat up. “You know what? That was dumb. Forget I said anything.” I reached into the car to grab my bag and the door bumped the car next to us making me cringe. “Shit,” I muttered and leaned over to check both cars only to hit the car again.
For fuck’s sake! There were two dings now. How much did it cost to get those buffed out, a grand per scratch? I should’ve come here alone. Panic was setting in and I needed to get it under control before we went inside.
I felt Drew’s hand on my arm and he guided me out from between the cars and left me standing at the back while he grabbed both bags and shut the car door. I noticed that he didn’t spare a glance to what I was sure were huge scratches. He handed me my purse but kept the white bag with the chocolate cake slices in it.
“Which way?” I pointed to the main entrance and we headed for it. “For the record, scratches happen and the car’s insured. Now, I can’t say the same about my brother when it comes to his McLaren. He’d take up the whole damn parking lot if he thought it’d keep his precious car safe from any exterior damage.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say because that car was way beyond my paycheck.
“What’s his name?” Drew asked as we entered the facility.
“Charles Randolph Marino, but everyone calls him Charlie.”
“Charlie,” Drew repeated softly. “I like that.”
I signed us in, then led him down the maze of halls to my grandfather’s room.
“Poppy? Are you awake?” I pushed the door open.
“Course I’m awake! I’m over here baking in the sun like a turtle on a log. Can’t reach the damn cord on the blinds and I’m too lazy to haul my ass outta this goddamn chair.”
I was laughing before he even finished his diatribe. The man was all bluster. If you didn’t know better you’d assume he was a true curmudgeon. Fortunately, I’d always known better.
“I can help with that,” Drew said, blasting past me.
He walked directly to the window and pulled the blind down.
“Who the hell are you? You look too damn fancy to be a nurse or attendant, and you’re too young to be a resident.”
“Pop, this is my …” The words faltered. His vision wasn’t super sharp these days, and if I flipped the diamond on the ring to the inside of my hand he wouldn’t notice it. I figured the whole fake fiancé reality TV show would confuse him, so I opted to keep it simple.
“This is my colleague, Drew. We’re working on, uh, a special project together.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Marino.” Drew stuck out his hand.
“Charlie.” He frowned as he regarded the hand, then finally shook it.
We all went quiet, because the whole set-up felt weird.
“I’ve got your cake!” I exclaimed.
“You better,” my grandfather fake glowered. “Put it over there—I’ll have it later. I’m not hungry after all of that gruel they force fed me atdinner. And why do they even call it dinner? They make us eat at four o’clock! That’slunch.”
I glanced at Drew and noticed that he was trying not to laugh at the commentary.
“Well? Are you two going to sit down, or are you going to keep staring at me like I’m a goddamn zoo animal?”
