Page 15 of Hell Bent

“With anything,” I said. “It’s the contrast between the clothes and the attitude that’s doing it. It’s unusual, maybe, but it works.”

Alix

The dog just about broke your heart.

I met her in the In ’n’ Out parking lot, when Sebastian’s car pulled up next to my truck. He was saying, “What—” But I was already talking, because he was holding the leash and letting the dog hop out, and she was a heartbreaker.

Old, maybe, or just hungry and tired. She had long hair that looked rough and a little matted, and the biggest, saddest, roundest brown eyes. I said, “Oh, hey,” in a helpless kind of way, and sank to my knees.

Sebastian handed me the leash and said, “Let’s get her something to eat and drink,” then set out to do it. Dog food in one metal bowl, water from his water bottle in the other.

The dog drank like she needed to, then more or less inhaled the food, and I asked, “Is she a stray?” My hand onher round head now, and her whole side leaning into me like she wanted a hug. Which I gave her, of course. How could I not?

“No,” Sebastian said, sounding grim. “Guy dumped her right in front of me. Told her to stay and drove off. Rest stop.”

“That’s horrible. Did you get his license plate?”

“No. It was dark, and besides—would the cops do anything? I doubt it.”

“How can people be so awful?” I asked. “How? How could you take this sweet girl and justdumpher? How sad must she have been? How confused?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “You’re the one who’s German.” I froze, my hand still on the dog, and he said, “Not a good joke. Sorry. My great-grandparents didn’t emigrate to the States like yours probably did, though, complete with their royal titles. They died in a gas chamber along with most of their families. French Jews.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Still a lousy joke, but more understandable. As it happens, my great-grandparents died in the war, too, but I can’t be nearly as mad about it as you can. My grandmother’s never said, but who knows, they may have been Nazis themselves. Most Germans were sympathizers at least. That’s just a fact. But I didn’t ask to be an ersatz princess.” I got to my feet. “Should we walk the dog over in that grassy area before we do the burger thing?”

“Probably,” he said. “Let’s do it.”

“Bring the poop bags,” I said. “I know enough about dogs for that.” He smiled, and he was the one who used the poop bag, too. I offered, but he said, “I’ve got it,” which was nice. He wasn’t my type in any way—too take-charge, not to mention the whole ancestors-on-opposite-sides thing, but I’d still rather be eating a burger with him than dancing with my new husband at my enormous glittering reception, so what the heck. I’d go for it.

7

DISAPPOINTING EVERYBODY

Alix

We didn’t talk much until we were in our plastic booth, biting into our burgers. I said, “Not really in my diet plan, but sometimes you’ve gotta step out.”

“You do,” he said. “Not in my diet plan either. We’re both cheating.” When I looked up to ask why—men didn’t generally fuss about having a burger—he said, “I guess I should ask whether you actually are. Cheating. Where’s the fiancé?”

I held up my left hand. It still felt oddly light and looked strangely naked, because I’d been wearing that huge diamond for a year. “Back in San Jose, probably. Drowning his sorrows with his buddy Brian. The guy you met. His best man.”

“The asshole.”

“That’s the one. Hopefully they’re not burning all my possessions. I’d just moved in. Fingers crossed that somebody will mail me my clothes.”

He said, some of those crinkles forming around his amber eyes like he was trying not to smile, “So the wedding is …”

“Off. It was supposed to be today. See my fingernails?”

“Uh … yeah. Did you scratch somebody with them or something?”

“No. But I wouldn’t have these fingernails if I hadn’t been getting married, and I’m getting them taken off as soon as possible. Boy, do these things get in the way. But yes, I did one of those things you only see in the movies, and let’s just say I’m not looking like the heroine. I left Ned at the altar. I talked to him first, but then I left him. Embarrassed him, embarrassed my parents … it was the whole enchilada.”

“And you’re driving a truck hauling a fifth wheel,” he said, “because?”

“Pretty obvious.” I took another juicy bite of burger and squeezed mustard beside my wonderfully crispy fries. “I’m running away. Or starting over.”

“Hmm,” he said, eating his own burger. Neatly, which was a little annoying. He was a very calm person. “Was that actually your wedding dress? Sorry I asked you to keep it, then.”