Page 28 of By Rude Strength

“Well, was I right?”

“Pretty close.” LA rolled his eyes. “The condom one can stay here though. I’d rather take the one over there with the trees.”

“What are the trees made out of?”

“Cassette tape.”

“Ah. Your mind is a wonderfully weird place.”

LA actually smiled at that. “Thanks.”

“So!” Cass came over to the couch. “How did your phone calls go, hmm?”

“Not great.” LA rubbed his forehead. “No one would answer any of my questions over the phone and the soonest anybody can talk to me would be this Friday.”

“And what’s today?”

“Tuesday.”

“So, five days.”

“Three.”

“Close enough.”

LA chuckled. “Well, the firm who can call me on Friday is one of the biggest and has the best reviews online. So, here’s hoping.”

“Do you really think you’ll be able to get your job back?”

“I’m gonna try like hell.” LA sighed. “Let me get changed and…Fuck! My car.”

“What?” Cass gasped. “Why would you want to do that?”

“No! Oh myGod. I had a flat tire and no spare. I called to get it towed yesterday and…” LA stood up slowly, tipped his head back, and shouted, “Fuck!” He gritted his teeth, frustrated with himself that he’d forgotten all about his car.

Granted, the magical imp was pretty distracting.

Like his bright smile, the shimmer of his tail, his luscious, thick fur…

Shit.

LA scrolled through his phone as he headed to the stairs, but he didn’t have any missed calls from roadside assistance or the assigned towing company. He dialed roadside first and did his best to navigate the automated messaging system. He couldn’t get a hold of a human and his temper was boiling by the time he gave up and tried to call the towing service.

He flopped into bed, eager to stretch out and ease the tension in his back. While the line rang, he stared at Cass hovering in the bedroom doorway. “What?”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Cass asked.

“Can you make these assholes answer the phone?”

“Hmm.” Cass paused. “No.”

“Then nope. Thanks, I’m good.” LA continued to listen to the line ring, expecting to hit an answering machine or a recorded message or something.

But no.

Justring ring ring.

“Uh, hello, Speabart Towing! Anna speaking,” a young woman’s voice answered, sounding frazzled. “How may I help you?”