Free Some Like It Hopeless (A Temporary Engagement) by Megan Bryce Page B

So you can buy another one when she crashes it.”
    Brady’s heart squeezed, imagining Cassandra lying broken and bloody in his car. Another death on his shoulders.
    Then he pushed it away and turned to go to work.
    Rodrigo stopped him with, “ Jefe , wait.”
    Brady turned back to find him looking pained. “What’s wrong?”
    “Her car. It’s right there, where everyone can see it. And, if you need to go somewhere. . .”
    The horror of Brady driving Cassandra’s car nearly made him laugh out loud.
    Rodrigo said, “Let me take care of it.”
    Brady nodded. “Carte blanche.”
    Rodrigo grinned and said, “Now that is better than a raise.”

    Brady lasted until noon, and then he sent a text to Cassandra. Make it to work alright?
    He waited for her reply. And waited.
    Twisted steel, mangled body.
    The Z was too powerful for her. He’d driven with her up Mulholland Drive and hadn’t been sure they were going to make it.
    She’d rev it, lose control, and spin it around like a top.
    He waited ten minutes, the fear and nausea pushing him to his feet. He paced in front of his window.
    When his phone chimed, he stopped dead and pulled his phone up to eye level like a man walking to his death.
    No. In Mexico. Mmm, burritos.
    His heart started thumping again, the breath that had been caught in his chest exploded out.
    His phone chimed again. I’ll bring some back for dinner.
    He didn’t try to stop the grin, didn’t fight the relief coursing through his veins.
    He wrote, One drip and Mexico won’t be far enough away.
    Will be home late. Gonna stop by a car wash.
    Brady laughed.

    She wasn’t home late.
    Brady was “helping” at the front desk, making his staff nervous with his presence when he saw Cassandra drive up.
    He walked outside to the relief of everyone and heard Rodrigo say to Cassandra, “You would be lucky if the junkyard would take your little green pu . . .car.”
    Brady saw the fire flicker in Cassandra’s eyes at the insult to her car and said, “Rodrigo is getting your car fixed. Something’s got to be done to it if it’s going to be parked in plain sight.”
    “It’s a green 1996 Honda Civic. How good could he make it look?”
    Rodrigo jutted his chin. “You insult me.”
    Cassandra folded her arms and faced him down. “What are you going to do to it?”
    “Make it better.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “Impossible.”
    “ Jefe , your woman’s got a mouth on her.”
    Cassandra said, “ Jefe ?” She turned to Brady. “Your woman?”
    Rodrigo jerked his thumb at Brady. “ Jefe . The boss.”
    Cassandra nodded. She’d been born and raised in southern California, she had to know what “ jefe ” meant.
    Rodrigo looked her up and down. “You’re not his woman?”
    Brady said, “She is.”
    Cassandra raised her eyebrows at him .
    Rodrigo hopped into the Z and said out the window, “Don’t think she knows it. Maybe you want to take her upstairs and remind her. And then I’d like to talk to you about my raise.”
    Cassandra watched him peel away, her arms still crossed. “Your woman?”
    “He’s not politically correct.”
    Cassandra snorted at that and got to the real issue. “You just gave him my car to do whatever he wants?”
    “I gave you my car to do whatever you want.”
    “Not the same. Because it was my car.”
    “Trust Rodrigo. He loves cars.”
    She watched as Rodrigo parked the little Z in its place of honor and muttered, “You could have just covered it. Or parked it somewhere else.”
    “And made Rodrigo run to kingdom come and back every time one of us leaves?”
    She flung her hand out. “It’s right there! I could walk to it myself!”
    “And then what would I be paying Rodrigo for?” He looked at her empty hands. “Hey, where’s my burrito?”
    She didn’t smile. She said, “Do you pay him a slave wage? Because I can’t put out for a man like that.”
    “I do not. And he could have that raise anytime he wants. He’s been in line for a promotion