He grins at me, though the look on his face tells me he felt that jolt too.
“Thanks,” I mutter, stowing my case on the floor of the back seat and dropping my bag beside it.
“My pleasure,” he murmurs smoothly, reaching for the passenger door as soon as he closes the back door.
Once we’re both in the car, I take a deep, steadying breath. “Thank you so much for doing this,” I tell him, trying to impart all my gratitude into my voice.
He looks at me, his brows pulled together in a frown, then refocuses on driving. “You don’t have to fall all over yourself thanking me. I’m pretty sure I told you that I’m happy to do it.”
“Still. It’s …”
“It’s what any friend would do for another,” he says quietly, finishing my abortive sentence.
“Uhh, no. That’s not at all accurate,” I say in a flat voice. Sure, some of my friends—or former friends, at least—would’ve given me a ride if I needed one. And I probably could’ve scrounged up a ride to my gig from somewhere else if Jason hadn’t offered,though I’m not sure scoring a ride home would’ve been as easy. But none of my friends would’ve driven me all over yesterday, from the garage to the diner I used to go to growing up, down to the zoo, and back home again.Andpaid for food, gas, and souvenirs all day.
“Oh, that reminds me,” he says, startling me out of my thoughts. He reaches into one of the little cubbies in the dash console and pulls out a little envelope. “You never did tell me how much you usually clear in a day, so I’m hoping this covers it since I took you to the zoo instead of doing food deliveries.”
“Jason …” I start to protest. I realized last night after he dropped me off that he didn’t pay me for the day like he’d said he was going to, but I figured brunch, an art print, an enamel pin, and dinner, plus coffees and snacks at the zoo more than covered it.
Apparently he disagrees, though.
Tossing the envelope in my lap, he puts both hands on the steering wheel. “Oh, and, if you wouldn’t mind giving me directions to where I’m supposed to go, that’d be great.”
“Oh, shit.” I totally forgot to text him the address. Glancing around, I realize we’re going in completely the wrong direction. “Take the next right. We need to head back for the highway. The wedding’s on the outskirts of Madison.”
Chuckling softly, Jason gets us going in the right direction. Conversation is light and easy during the drive to the venue, interspersed with me telling him where to turn. When we get there, he insists on helping me carry my things, though I won’t let him take my instrument. While it’s not some kind of hard and fast rule, I generally only let other musicians carry my case for me, and only when I literally can’t do it myself for some reason. I don’t trust people not to accidentally bang it into everything. Especially not when I’m about to play a gig.
The wedding is in a garden area, a pretty white gazebo in the background overlooking a private pond. There are rows of white chairs facing the gazebo, and I head toward the front and off to the side, my standard setup for small weddings like this. It gives me a good view of when people are ready to walk down the aisle. That way I know when to start the processionals for the wedding party and the bride, and I can see when they reach the front so I know when to stop playing as well.
The wedding coordinator spots me and strides over, a wide smile on her face. “Hello! I’m Julie. So nice to meet you. Do you need anything?”
Returning her smile, I shake my head. “Nope. This spot’s perfect. I can see everything from here.”
“Okay, fabulous. I’ll have someone bring you a chair so you can sit during the ceremony. The groom also asked me to give you this.” She passes me an envelope. “Let me know if you need anything else. And I didn’t realize you’d be bringing a guest. Will you be staying?” This last is directed at Jason.
“Oh, yeah,” I butt in. “I’m so sorry about that. I had some car trouble, and Jason gave me a ride.”
Julie gives him a more thorough once-over at that. “What a sweetheart.” Then she gives me an exaggerated pout. “I’m so sorry to hear about your car. I hope it’s easily fixed.” My stomach bottoms out because, according to Earl’s call last night, it’s not, and I’ve been avoiding facing that reality before now. But I try not to let my smile slip. Julie doesn’t need to know all of that. “I’m glad you were able to make it here without issues, though. That would’ve been terrible if you couldn’t make it!”
“Could you even imagine?” I ask, channeling her same energy.
She swats a hand in my direction as she starts to turn away. “I don’t even want to! Do let me know if you need anything. And your guest can stay at the back with me!” she calls over hershoulder as she hurries off to take care of the next thing on her list.
“I think I’ll just wait in the car,” Jason says quietly as I start to set up my stand. “I don’t want to be in the way.”
Nodding, I continue the process of getting ready. A few people are already filtering in, and my official start time is in five minutes. I need to finish unpacking and setting up quickly. “Thank you again, Jason.” The double whammy of Julie mentioning both my dead car and the possibility of me not making my gigs has my stomach roiling again, and I take deep breaths to try to calm it down. “You heard Julie. Bailing on this would’ve been awful.” For the obvious short-term reason that it would put a big wrench in the bride and groom’s big day. But there are the long-term implications of me being a flake that’d make it even harder to get future gigs. Bad reviews online plus a wedding coordinator that’d spread the word …
Since I booked this gig, Julie’s reached out to me about two other weddings over the next year. I can’t afford to burn any bridges, not even because my transmission died. Especially not when my transmission died.
A hand on my arm makes me freeze, and I look up at Jason. He gives my arm a squeeze before releasing me. “I’m happy to help. You’re right. It would’ve been terrible if you couldn’t make it. Even if Julie’s happy to let me skulk at the back, I don’t want to crash someone else’s wedding.”
Trying to suppress my grin at his mention of Julie inviting him to hang with her, I shake my head. “She might be disappointed you turned down her invite. Did you see the way she checked you out?”
His eyes widen, and he leans in closer. “Why do you think Idon’twant to take her up on her offer?”
Laughing, I crouch down to get my instrument out of its case. “Oh, poor Jason. Too attractive for his own good.” WhenI straighten back up, violin tucked under my right arm and tightening the screw on my bow, he hasn’t responded. When I look at him, he has a funny look on his face. “What?”
“You think I’m attractive, huh?” He’s wearing a slight grin, and he looks pleased.
