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“Blair Melbourne.” The voice was muffled. “Why aren’t we moving?”
“Why do you think? I’m on I-5.”
“Oh, of course.” That was enough for any Seattleite to know what was happening. Or not happening.
“May I ask why you’re hiding down there?”
“It’s kind of a long story.”
“We’ve got a week on the road,” I reminded her. “Plenty of time for talking.”
When she didn’t answer I added, “Once we get on I-90 it’s about twenty miles to Issaquah. We can stop there if you want. There’s a Starbucks right off the freeway. It’s always crowded there.”
“Sounds good. With all this excitement I could use a restroom.”
Thirty minutes later I pulled into the parking lot of the coffee chain, once again looking around to see if anyone was following us.
“The coast is clear,” I said, opening the back door. “Let’s get some caffeine and you can hit the restroom.”
The blanket moved as the woman beneath it inched out backwards. Her feet hit the ground and the blanket slid off, revealing a very curvy ass encased in one of those prim little pencil skirts that women who worked in office jobs liked to wear. She finally maneuvered off the floor, turning around to face me.
My breath caught in my throat. Whoever this woman was, she was beautiful.
She was curvy and lush, with rounded hips, thick thighs, and full breasts. Her dark blonde hair hung a little past her shoulders, slightly wavy and arranged in one of those chic layered bobs, a little messy from hiding under the blanket. She had full lips, shiny with some kind of gloss, a nose that was the tiniest bit too big for her face, and big brown eyes framed with thick lashes. I felt a jolt of attraction hit me right in the gut, despite the fact that she had to be at least ten years younger than me.
“Can you tell me what’s going on now?” I asked when I recovered my voice.
She slipped past me and opened the back of the RAV4, pulling out a tote bag from the outside pocket of her suitcase.
“Let me get changed first,” she said, already striding towards the coffee shop. “I’ll explain everything after that.”
With no choice but to follow her, I clicked the locks on the car’s fob and jogged to catch up with her. We joined the line to order coffee, and I used the opportunity to study her surreptitiously.
“What’s good here?” she asked, looking at the menu like it was in a foreign language.
“You’ve never been to a Starbucks before?” I asked incredulously.
When she frowned she got two little creases between her eyebrows. “No.”
“You live in Seattle and you’ve never been to a Starbucks? That’s… strange.”
It was practically heresy.
She shrugged, still reading the menu.
“Ooh, the mocha Frappuccino sounds good. Can you order me the largest one they have, with extra whipped cream? I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She strode off, leaving me staring after her in confusion. I texted Pops, giving him an update on this turn of events. As usual, he took things in stride.
Pops: Don’t worry, if you disappear I’ll file a missing person report. But my money’s on you in any fight.
Blair
Ilocked myself into the single user restroom and took a few seconds to stretch. I’d only been scrunched down in the back of the car for about forty-five minutes, but it had felt like hours. My back was stiff and I could still feel the little hump in the middle pressing into my belly.
Unbidden, I heard my mother’s voice suggesting that if my belly was flatter that wouldn’t be a problem. Shaking off that thought, I sat on the toilet, changing my clothes while I peed. I was quite the multi-tasker.
When I was finished I shoved my pencil skirt, blouse, and kitten heels into the garbage can, covering it with paper towels and shoving it down as far as I could. I didn’t think my parents’ security team would track me here, but I wasn’t taking any chances. Now that I was wearing faded jeans, Nikes, and a Seahawks tee shirt I was dressed like an average person, exactly what I wanted.
