But I smell the entitlement on this guy. I’ve worked with artists who let fame and money launch their egos into another solar system. This man wants a vacation to one of the most inhospitable environments to go as smoothly as a resort stay in Cabo.
“Look,” he says, tipping his sunglasses halfway down his nose, “if you’re not—bare minimum—handling our rental car, then cancel the reservation. This is ridiculous.”
“Babe, no!” The woman interrupts her selfie with a cactus to join us. “We wanted remote, and this place isperfect.”
“There’s a billion other listings online, and cheaper, too.”
Daisy opens her mouth, but this guy must know what she’s going to say because he barrels over her.
“And whatever your cancellation policy is, I’ll call my credit card company and dispute the charge. I have an Amex.”
I bite the inside of my cheek until I taste iron to keep from saying something I might regret to him.
“Please, Mr. and Mrs. Hollis.” Daisy picks at the cuticle around her thumb. “I’d love to host you at The Mirage.”
A stranger wouldn’t notice the strain behind her words, but I can—and it whips me to attention, like a Pavlovian dog craving a treat. Daisy needs help, and I want to be the one to help her. Lessthan twenty-four hours in my middle-of-nowhere hometown, and I’m back to my old habits.
“That’s why I’m here.” I step forward and put on a winning smile. Daisy’s eyes bulge as if she wants to ask me the same thing I’m asking myself.What are you doing?
“Who’re you?”
“Max Weber, private driver for The Mirage of Harlow.” Being the wiry art kid who everyone either ignored or bullied meant I learned how to win people over and pretend I belonged.
“Ohmygosh, I can’t believe it.” The woman slinks an elaborately manicured hand around the man’s biceps and squeezes. “That’s perfect.”
“That’s—Max.” Daisy looks at me. “That’s not necessary. I’ll take you two back to The Mirage myself, and we’ll get everything sorted out there. Privately.”
We all eye her beat-up Ford truck that she’s had since high school. She’d have to pay someone to steal it.
“Or,” I say, “you could be the first to experience the, uh,ourexclusive private driver service, free of cost. Clean, comfortable, and it puts Harlow at your fingertips.” I channel complete confidence, my hand sweeping to the new off-road vehicle my parents bought for all the weekend trips they never take. “We soft-launched today, and it would be an honor to drive you two lovebirds around.”
“Remember what our therapist says.” The woman tucks her phone into her hoodie pocket and grabs her husband’s hands. “I cannot control what happens to me. I can—C’mon.” She stomps her foot, and he halfheartedly joins in on some kind of mantra, mumbling under his breath.
I don’t want or need to witness this bizarre, private moment between them, so I look at Daisy. She’s putting her fiery hair up, leaving a few curling tendrils that frame her face and some stray bits in the back. One of her arms is tan and bare, butthe other has a full sleeve of tattoos, like a colorful scrapbook, including a postage stamp with a desert landscape and a vintage-style woman holding a cat. Daisy’s more than I remember—more tattooed, more freckled, more poised.
“Okay, we’d love to take you up on your offer.” Mrs. Hollis squeals and claps her hands, breaking me out of the spell.
“Brilliant,” I say, not missing a beat. “Let’s get you two settled in the vehicle, and Daisy and I will load your luggage into the trunk.”
Once our delightful guests are out of earshot, Daisy turns to me. “What the hell are you doing?” She doesn’t wait for an answer, just goes for the small duffel crammed in the back.
“How about ‘Hey Max, thanks for helping me out’?”
“I don’t need help.”
“I…” Although I had good intentions, I shouldn’t have butted in. “Okay. I’ll let them know I rescind the offer.”
“You can’t take it back now.”
“Daze, someone like that will settle for nothing less than the gold-standard experience.”
“And I couldn’t do that on my own?” she scoffs.
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“The Mirage isn’t fancy, but I’m the owner, and I am perfectly capable. I would have figured something out.”
Her stubbornness checks out, but it’s jarring to hear her say she runs the place.
