“Okay, give me the keys. I’ll sell it for you.” He held out a hand.
“I can sell it. Just tell me where I need to go.”
“My doorman needs a car for his son. If he’s not keen on it, I’ll find someone else who is.”
He sounded reasonable, but Annabelle wasn’t sure if she should take him up on the offer. She didn’t like owing people anything.
“I can do it.”
“Why are you being difficult about this?” Frustration was written all over his face. “I’ve offered to help, haven’t I? Do you want to sell it or not?”
“Yes, but I just want a name and address and I’ll drive it there.”
“You ever sold a car before?”
“No.”
“Then hand over your keys, because I have. Loads of them,” he added, holding out one big hand, palm upwards.
She looked at it for several seconds. Could she do this?You have no other choice, Annabelle, if you want to survive.
“Is it just me you don’t trust, or do you treat everyone as if they’re a career criminal?”
His mouth was smiling but his eyes weren’t; they were narrowed and glaring at her. The big Texan didn’t like anyone doubting his integrity.
“You Texans are touchy,” she muttered.
“Honey, you question a Texan’s honest intentions and he just gets plain pissed off.”
Annabelle rolled her eyes but said, “I don’t like owing people.”
“And if you let me do this, you’ll owe me?” He balanced his weight on one leg as he studied her intently.
“Yes.”
Annabelle wasn’t big on silence; she liked noise, and gaps in conversations unsettled her. She looked at the Texan, who was staring at her. She couldn’t read what he was thinking so she looked away again.
“It’s rude to stare,” Annabelle muttered.
“Ha. You’re not actually accusing me of being rude, when every word that comes out of your mouth is a curse or an insult.”
“No, it’s not!”
“Smith, you’re belligerent, rude and downright aggressive, and those are on your good days. It’s just a stroke of luck you’re so hot you can get away with it.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere.” Why did it unsettle her that he thought she was hot?
“Keys now.” He held out a big hand again.
“Okay, but I-I need to get my stuff out first and…thanks.”
Annabelle watched as he staggered backwards clutching his chest.
“Go easy on the compliments, Annabelle. My heart can’t take much more.”
“Fuck you,” she snarled, feeling off balance, which was her most hated state of mind. She liked to be in control of every aspect of her life, but today things were just not working out that way.
“There’s my girl.”
