“Wonderful, I’m looking forward to hearing all about the movie when you return,” Dad says, tipping his head before scanning the parameter of my bedroom as if looking for a clue to the lie he must be sure I’m telling. I snag my tube of lipstick and shove it into my purse. Dad reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a wad of cash, handing me a dollar bill. “I expect change.”
“Yes, Dad, thank you.”
His eyes narrow with a look of scrutiny, and my conscience is screaming inside my head. I hate lying, but he leaves me no choice. “I hope you boys enjoy supper.”
“Yes, thank you for preparing the casserole. That was very thoughtful, especially since you’re not joining us.”
The moment Dad turns to leave my bedroom, I spritz my perfume on my neck and wrists, gather my shoes, and scurry to the front door. “Goodbye, Dad, I love you.”
“Love you too, sweetheart,” Dad says from his work desk.
I’m not sure where James and Lewis are, but I hope they aren’t about to meet my presence on the street. That would be just my luck.
Once I’m outside, I draw in a sharp breath, fix my curls, and pull the lipstick and a compact out of my purse. While peering at the curve of my lashes through the reflection of my small mirror, a glare pulls my attention to the left. I spot a royal blue convertible Roadster cruising down the road. Gosh, if he is trying to stay under the radar, he isn’t doing a good job. The gloss bouncing off his car has a more prominent reflection than my compact.
I trot down the sidewalk, waving my hands at him to stop a few houses down from mine. His dark aviator sunglasses prevent me from seeing whatever look might be in his eyes, but I suspect he’s wondering what to do and likely curious why I’m not inside my house waiting on the doorbell to ring.
I open his passenger side door and plop into the seat. “Turn around in that driveway and go. Step on it!”
“Wait just a minute now. I promised to introduce myself to your father before we go out tonight. Miss Salzberg, I’m not a man who goes back on my word.”
I purse my lips and smirk. “Lieutenant Anderson, I am certain you will have no chance at accompanying me anywhere tonight if you choose to meet my father.” I can tell Everett isn’t comfortable with this news, but he must decide, and be quick if he wants any hope of leaving here with me tonight.
“You are going to be a handful, aren’t you?”
“Not as much as my father will be,” I reply.
Relief fills my chest when Everett pulls the gear into reverse and backs into the nearest driveway. “Where shall I take you, miss troublemaker?”
I didn’t think that far ahead. I figured someone would have caught us and stopped the car before turning off this street. “To the beach, just a few miles down the road.” I’m not dressed in proper apparel for the beach, but it will be peaceful there at this time of day.
“The beach?” he questions.
“Do you trust me?” I reply.
“Absolutely not, Miss Salzberg.” Everett takes a second to peer over at me with a mischievous smirk stretching toward his right dimple.
I interlace my fingers and rest my hands on my lap, trying my best to appear unaffected by every blink of his eyes. “Perfect. Let’s go.”
Everett doesn’t make a peep until we are several streets away from where I live. “I don’t feel right about this, Miss Salzberg.”
“Elizabeth or Lizzie, but not Miss Salzberg, please,” I say, scrunching my cheeks upward.
“Lizzie, I like that,” he says, peering over at me through the corner of his eye. “If you don’t mind me asking, why won’t your father allow you to date? You must be at least eighteen, correct?”
It’s embarrassing to admit I’m a twenty-year-old woman taking orders from my father the way I do. “I’m twenty and it’s a long story. How old are you, Lieutenant?”
“Twenty-three, but I feel much older some days. Hollywood will do that to a man.”
“I see, well, it can’t be all that bad, living in the limelight.”
Everett chuckles at my comment, but I was being serious. “I can honestly say the grass isn’t always greener on the other side. I believe everyone has their burdens to bear.”
“That could be true. I assume you don’t get much privacy.”
Everett’s grip tightens around the white coated steering wheel and his jaw muscles flex. If there is anything I’ve mastered well, it’s reading body language, and it’s clear I have said too much. “Would you mind telling me which way to turn? I’m still learning the roads here.”
“Oh gosh, at the brick building on the right, take a left,” I blurt out. “Sorry if I said too much. I tend to talk a lot—”
