Janet Evanovich - Full Speed

"I like you, Michael," she said, "but I'm very confused right now. I had no right to invite you out while I'm in the middle of divorce proceedings."

"I could be a good friend to you at a time like this."

Jamie suspected he had more than mere friendship on his mind. She knew what the problem was, of course. She had started comparing men to Max, and they always fell short.

The streets were dark and deserted when they passed Jeno's. Michael pulled behind Bennett's truck. "I don't like the idea of your driving all the way back to Sweet Pea this late at night," he said, gazing at her in the semi-darkness of the car.

"I'll be fine."

Once again, he reached for her hand. "You know, we don't have to say good night. You could come to my place."

"I can't."

"Because of your husband?"

"My life is complicated."

"Then why don't you allow me to make a few decisions for you?" He smiled and hit the automatic lock.

* * * * *

Max checked his wristwatch again. Midnight. He looked at Fleas. "Your mistress is late." The dog whimpered and sank to the floor. Max walked over to the hound and gazed down at him. Finally, he knelt beside the animal and petted him. "I'm sure she's fine."

The dog sat up, yawned, and stretched.

"What I'd like to know is what we're supposed to do in the meantime." Max picked up some printouts, only to toss them aside. Fleas walked over to him. "What do you say we pop the top on a cold one and find us a wrestling channel?"

The dog thumped his tail against the floor.

Max walked to the refrigerator and opened the door. "First, we need to get some food into us. I don't know about you, but I'm hungry." Fleas joined him at the door and stared.

"You like cold cuts?" Max asked, pulling out a package of sliced ham. He opened the pack, pulled off a piece for himself and one for the dog. Fleas swallowed his in one quick gulp. Next, Max reached for the cheese. "This is what I like about eating at the refrigerator," he told the eager dog. "No dirty dishes to clean up afterward." He held the cheese high and Fleas jumped for it.

"Hello!" Max shouted. "Would you look at that!"

The dog wagged his tail as Max pulled out another slice of cheese.

"Ready?"

Fleas barked.

Max tossed the slice in the air, and Fleas jumped and caught it in his mouth once more. Max laughed. "I'm going to tell Jamie I taught you how to do that."

Once they'd finished snacking, Max grabbed a beer, twisted off the top, and took a sip. He walked over to the coffee table, picked up the remote control, and turned on the TV. He sat down on the sofa. Fleas climbed up beside him and propped his big head in Max's lap.

"Does your mother allow you on the furniture?" he asked.

Fleas closed his eyes and began to snore.

* * * * *

Jamie wondered what kind of game Michael was playing. The hair on the back of her neck prickled. Not a good sign. She straightened in the seat. "Look, it's late, and I'm tired." And annoyed, she wanted to add. She didn't like this gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. "So stop kidding around and let me out of the car."

"You could sleep in my guest room if you preferred. Tomorrow I would prepare you a nice breakfast."

"Michael, I—"

"What if I said I wasn't going to take no for an answer?"

Jamie felt a trickle of unease run down her spine. She looked at him. His expression was hard to read; she could not tell whether he was serious or merely playing a bad joke on her. "Maybe some other time, but not tonight."

"Jane?"

She reached for the handle. "Unlock the car, please." When he didn't make a move to do so, she turned to face him, but she was suddenly blinded by a set of headlights. A patrol car pulled up beside them with two officers inside. Michael pushed a button, and his window slid down silently.

"You folks having a problem?" the officer on the driver's side asked.

Michael smiled. "I'm trying to talk my date into a good night kiss, but she seems reluctant."

The two policemen looked at each other and grinned. Finally, the driver nodded at Jamie. "It's after midnight, lady, and this neighborhood ain't so great. Why don't you give the poor guy a good night kiss so y'all can be on your way?"

Jamie couldn't deny the relief she felt as she gazed across at the smiling patrolmen. "Well, OK." She leaned across the seat and gave Michael a peck of a kiss on his lips. "Satisfied?"

"Oh, man, that's really lame," one of the officers said.

Michael turned to them. "I would probably have gotten a better one if you guys hadn't shown up."

"Would you please let me out of the car now?" Jamie asked.

Michael chuckled but hit the automatic lock. Jamie opened her door. "I'll follow you back to Sweet Pea," he said.

She met his gaze, her own cool. Inside, she was furious. "Good night, Michael," she said, trying to talk around clenched teeth. She already had her keys in her hand by the time she reached Bennett's truck. She unlocked the door, jerked it open, and, in a fit of temper, tossed her purse on the passenger seat as hard as she could. It bounced and landed on the floor. She climbed into the truck, punched the lock down, and started the engine. The policemen waved at her as she pulled away.

Jamie didn't sigh a breath of relief until she turned onto the interstate, but she was conscious of Michael's headlights in her rearview mirror, could see the anxiety in her own eyes each time she glanced into the mirror and caught her own reflection.

It was then that she noted the gas gauge, the needle creeping toward empty. Shit. She'd been in such a hurry earlier to reach Knoxville that she'd completely forgotten to stop for gas. She flinched when the warning light came on. She glanced up just as an exit sign came into view, but there was no time to slow and pull off. Michael was right on her tail.

"Dammit!" she said.

The interstate held very little traffic, with the exception of a few eighteen-wheelers. The Sweet Pea exit was twenty miles away, and once she took it, there was a lone highway and a series of back roads before she reached the cabin. The gnawing in her stomach worsened.

Michael's Jaguar closed in on her.

Jamie suddenly remembered her cell phone. She automatically reached toward the seat beside her, only to find it empty. She glanced over. Her purse was lying on the floor, flush against the passenger door, where it had fallen when she'd thrown it on the seat too hard.

Jamie felt the truck swerve, and she gripped the steering wheel with both hands. She shot another glance at her purse. She would never be able to reach it. She would have to stop the truck and put it into gear, then lean across the other seat to put her hands on her purse. Bennett's truck was so big she needed both hands on the wheel.

Another exit sign came into view. Jamie read it quickly. There was a Waffle House in one direction and a campground in the other. No gas station. She passed the turnoff, watching the gas needle. Michael's headlights glared at her; he'd obviously turned on his high beams.

It seemed as though she had been driving forever when Jamie spied the tall Exxon sign in the distance. She glanced at the needle, kept driving. When the exit sign appeared she didn't bother to turn on her blinker, she just swerved, and the truck barreled down the ramp. Behind her Michael tapped his horn twice and continued on.

"Have a nice life, creep," Jamie said as she drove toward the gas station. "You just saw the last of me."

* * * * *

Max jumped at the sound of a vehicle pulling in. He glanced at Fleas, who was still snoring. "Some watchdog you are." He got up and started for the door just as Jamie came in.

"Oh, hi," she said, trying to hide her relief at seeing him. "Were you watching TV?"

"Yeah."