It tookseveral hours to disavow the farmers of the notion that goats were going to run loose on a trash dump in the city. Then I had to explain that there also would not be a goat trash buffetoutsideof the city either. Ernest had insisted that he could not afford to feed and house all those goats forever, so Remy kindly wrote him a check.
One of the goats promptly ate it.
It was dark when the meeting was finally over. As usual, nothing had been accomplished. While I drove slowly down the winding road, my phone beeped that I needed to charge the battery. I fumbled in my bag for the charging cable then cursed.
“Of course this fucking car doesn’t have a charger. Fuck.”
My phone made frantic electronic dying noises, then the screen shut to black.
“Fucking phone. Fucking car. Fuck my life,” I yelled out, clenching the steering wheel.
I turned on the radio. Ida’s voice blared out. “…You vote for Meg, then you’re voting for free compost and healthy living and the best tits this side of the Hudson!”
“Good lord.” I switched off the radio. If Ida was making promises like that, I needed to find a place for the compost pile. Surely there was some empty farmland somewhere we could put it?
My car let out a grinding noise then a high-pitched moan then jerked to a stop as steam billowed out from under the hood.
“Are you kidding me!” I shrieked, opening the door then running around and popping up the hood. I coughed as a cloud of steam escaped. I stared around in disbelief.
“Why does this keep happening?” I shouted into the night. I was in the middle of farmland, at least an hour’s drive outside of town. I knew this area. Ernest’s farm was probably the closest place to find help, and it was a good two-hour walk away.
Crap.
“It’s fine,” I told myself. “Don’t panic. Engines know when you’re afraid.”
I wasn’t a car person. I didn’t know anything about cars, but if it was steaming, maybe it needed water? I took a breath and screwed off what I hoped was the radiator cap. I had a bottle of water in my purse and I poured it in, hoping the car would start. All it did was make more steam.
I thunked my head on the driver’s-side window and tried to psych myself up for the walk back to Ernest’s farm. “At least you wore your boots,” I pep-talked myself. “It could be worse; it could always be worse.” But the unfairness of it all was starting to creep into my psyche. I could never catch a break! Then I saw lights in the distance.
“I’m saved!” I jumped up and down, waving my arms. But my face fell as a familiar black sports car glided to a stop beside me.
The window rolled down, and Hunter’s gray eyes peered up at me. “Need a ride?”
36
Hunter
Ihad a serious case of blue balls when I made it back to the campaign headquarters later that afternoon.
“Are you sure he didn’t have an aneurysm or something?” Weston asked, snapping his fingers in front of my face.
“If he’d had an aneurysm, he’d be dead by now,” Parker said.
“Get out,” I snapped at them. “I’m trying to work.”
“And we’re trying to help you.”
“I almost got run over by a train because of Tanner,” I complained.
“You almost got run over by a train because you were ogling Meg and weren’t thinking about anything other than getting laid.” Garrett was incensed.
“You have to admit, she did look smoking hot,” Tanner said with a grin.
“Out!” I roared.
My brothers grabbed their things and left.
“Don’t let them stress you out,” Karen said, running her hands up my arms to rub my shoulders. Her touch made my skin buzz. “Meg’s just trying to get in your head,” she said in my ear. “You just need a little something to take the edge off.” Her hand slid around to my collarbone, down my chest.
