Her gaze flew to the floor, looking for the brake and gas pedal—both present and accounted for. Along with another pedal—a clutch.
Allie’s breath caught in her lungs.A stick shift?
Of course it was a stick shift. She pressed a palm to her forehead. Her father had taught Olivia to drive a manual, but by the time Allie turned sixteen, he was working long hours and didn’t have time. Mom taught her to drive in the Odyssey.
Her phone conversation with her mom came back to her.That’swhat she’d meant when she questioned Allie’s ability to drive the car.
She wrapped her fingers around the skinny steering wheel and stared out the front windshield into the woods. What was she going to do now? She couldn’t bail on this assignment. She had to get this car to Pennsylvania. But now was probably not the best time to learn to drive a manual. She’d have to get someone else to drive. She hated that. She wanted the credit for delivering the car. But there was no help for it now—she was going to have to share the glory with someone else.
Olivia was the obvious choice, but they’d left early this morning as she’d been enlisted to make the bulk of the food for the party. (Roasted prime rib, mashed potatoes, and homemade yeast rolls, for starters.)
Who else could Allie ask? Not Charlotte—she was all the way back in Atlanta, and she had her shop to run. Her other friends were also three hours south of here. She could hire a driver—but who? It really had to be someone here in Copper Creek, given the time constraints, but she’d lost touch with her old friends. She couldn’t call someone out of the blue and beg a favor.
Why, oh, why was this happening to her? She thumped her head on the steering wheel once. Twice. Three times. Who could she ask?
As if the jarring had knocked something loose, an image of Luke Fletcher burst into her mind. Her parents had invited their next-door neighbor, but he declined, according to her mother. Probably because of Allie. He was still practically her parents’ adopted son, but he made himself scarce when Allie came around—as well he should.
A tap on the driver’s window made her jump. At the sight of Brady she composed herself and cranked down the window.
Even with a bad case of hat-head he was a handsome man. Lucky Hope. “Everything all right?”
“Um... sort of? It seems my parents forgot to mention this was a stick shift.”
He blinked. “Oh. You can’t drive a manual?”
“Well, I probably could, but I’m not sure we’d make it there in one piece.” She gave him a cautious look. “I don’t suppose you’re available for the next, say, ten hours or so?”
“Oh, hey, wish I could. But I have a ’67 Porsche 911 due tomorrow afternoon. It’s for this guy’s birthday...”
“No, of course, I understand.”
“Sorry ’bout that. Wish I could help.”
“Not your fault. I don’t suppose you might know of anyone...? I could make it worth their while.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Gosh, everyone I know is working today. I’d ask Hope, but she hasn’t driven a stick in years. Plus, she’s studying for a big exam.”
Allie squeezed the steering wheel. “Right. No, I understand. I’ll think of something.”
“Maybe your dad could come back and get it.”
Wouldn’t that be exactly what her parents expected? Instead of proving herself, she’d reinforce their belief that she was a complete and total failure.
Unless... she called Luke.
Her heart pounded at the thought of seeing him again. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d spoken to him. That was a lie. She remembered every detail.
“Don’t worry about it.” Allie dredged up a smile that was as fake as her “natural” highlights. “Really. Go on and enjoylunch with your wife and give me a minute to make other arrangements. I’ll be out of your hair lickety-split.”
“Sure you don’t want to join us while you work something out? There’s more than enough.”
“I’m sure, but thank you.”
As Brady headed back to the house, Allie turned her thoughts to what she had to do. She knew for a fact Luke was home. She’d seen his old Mustang in the driveway when she went inside her parents’ house for the check. Okay,sneakedinside the house. Those ugly hedges had to be good for something.
But, oh, she didn’t want to face Luke again. And he wouldn’t want to see her either. God knew he’d done nothing but avoid her since her senior prom.
She glanced around the beautifully restored vehicle. She was in a fix, and she couldn’t fail at this task. She couldn’t. Not even if it meant the favored surrogate son would receive half the glory.
