Page 2 of Loving Hard on the Highway (Love Along Route 14)

Sean

“I called URyde, and a driver will be around to take you back to the hotel shortly. Let me know if you need anything else, boss,” Myra said from the other end of my phone.

“Don’t call me boss. I see us more as partners,” I said.

“When personal assistants have multi-million-dollar salaries and own a portion of the company, then maybe,” Myra teased.

“Fair enough. Again, I’m sorry to call you while you’re on vacation.” I paced outside of Marco’s High Performance Automotive.

“It’s my job to make sure you’re taken care of,” she replied before hanging up.

I went from having a great night at Club Vida, hoping to get lucky with a really gorgeous girl, to finding out that some drunk had hit my parked custom Ducati motorcycle, Reba. I was surprised that Myra got the shop owner up and running, but money talks.

The smell of oil and rubber met me as I made my way back into the garage. I paused, letting out a lamenting sigh when I saw my beautiful baby on the lift, its rear tire and part of the fiery red casing removed. “Oh, Reba.”

“She’s a sweet bike,” Marco said as he came around from the other side of the lift with a large wrench in his hand.

“Please tell me you can get her running by morning.”

Marco let out a laugh. “I can get her fixed up for sure, but no way by morning. If I had the parts, maybe. But for a limited-edition customized Ducati… I can order the parts first thing in the morning. With a rush, they’ll maybe be here in the evening, but still might take a day or so.”

“Shit,” I swore under my breath. “I really need to get on the road first thing in the morning, and it’s already 3 am.”

Marco looked at the clock hanging on the metal wall. “You may want to call the car rental at the airport. They’re open 24 hours a day, but there’s a convention in town, so there might not be much to choose from.”

“Thanks,” I said, placing a weary hand on the frame of my precious Reba. “Do whatever it takes to get her fixed. My assistant will have her shipped to me in California when you’re done. Cost is not an issue.”

Now came the tedious task of renting a car.

Calling Myra tempted me, but I already felt like a crappy boss for calling her while she was on vacation.

It’s just a car rental, so it should be easy.

I looked it up on my phone as I walked out of the garage and hopped into the back seat of the URyde car service.

After confirming with the driver, we were on our way.

Once I was comfortable, I pressed the call button.

“Vida Car Rentals,” came a stern voice on the other end. “How can I help you?”

“Yes, I need to rent a car for tomorrow.”

“I’m not sure we have anything available,” she said. “Myrtle, can you help this customer?”

I waited while another woman took over the call.

“Hi, my name is Myrtle, and I’d be happy to help you. Oh, I see you’re getting a car rental. Name?” said the bubbly elder voice.

“Sean Iverleigh. I’m trying to get a car for tomorrow.”

“Oh yes, I see you right here. Evie…Ivie, you said? Shane?”

“It’s Iverleigh, not Evie,” I corrected her.

“Oh, just let me make sure I have this correct in my system. Give me just a moment.” She clicked away on her computer.

“It’s a good thing you already have a reservation because we are completely booked for the convention this week.

Okay, now. First name Iverleigh, last name Shane?

Can you spell the first name for me, dear? ”

“First name Sean, S-E-A-N. And last name I-V-E-R-L-E-I-G-H,” I replied, confused.

“Alrighty then… It will be first-come, first-served on the vehicle, unless you have a specific request. We have a Camry, a Focus, and a Lexus. It’s a little more.”

“I’ll reserve the Lexus, please, ma’am.” I laid on the charm.

“You’re all set,” she chirped, a bit too perky for this early in the morning.

Now, how I got up and dragged my ass to the airport at eight in the morning after just three hours of sleep was beyond me. But I managed.

As I stepped into the rental lobby, unsure of how busy they would be, the heavy glass door swished shut behind me. I removed my Ray-Ban sunglasses and let my eyes adjust to the interior light.

Pausing just past the entrance, I let my eyes wander. A customer with keys in hand wheeled a suitcase across the polished, slightly scuffed concrete tile floor as he was being escorted out another door. Soft instrumental Yacht Rock played from invisible speakers as I looked toward the help counter.

And then I saw her. I’d recognize those long bronze legs anywhere. Pretty unforgettable.

She was at the counter, speaking to a rental agent. Her voice was low, but the curve of her hips, the tilt of her head, and that tight ass were all unmistakable. Gabbie.

She wore denim shorts and a fitted white top with a short, cropped sweater. Her long, dark hair was swept up in an effortlessly messy ponytail. One hand rested on the counter, fingers drumming lightly. I could almost hear the rhythm from where I stood.

I froze for a second, almost entranced by her. She was hot last night in a mini cocktail dress, her thick hair down and swaying as she danced. And today she was, well, beautiful, natural, breathtaking.

She hadn’t seen me yet. She was half-turned, angled just enough for me to see her profile and the look of concern on her face. The agent nodded in response to something she said and began typing.

I wanted to say hi, maybe get her number. There was a chance I’d make my way back to Florida, but I wasn’t sure she’d be interested. No harm in shooting my shot, right?

“Can I help you, sir?” another agent called to me as she approached her computer.

I stepped forward. “Um, yeah.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Gabbie glance my way, then turn as if hiding her face. Okay, she was definitely brushing me off.

“Yeah, I reserved a Lexus. Name’s Sean Iverleigh.”

She typed away. “Ah, yes, I see you worked with Myrtle. You got lucky to get a reservation. I’ll be back with your key and some paperwork for you to sign.”

“No, my name is Gabrielle Jones.” I couldn’t help but overhear Gabbie speaking to the agent. She was trying to keep her frustrated voice low.

My agent came back and showed me where to sign. I signed while listening to Gabbie, who was nearly pleading with the guy on the other side of the counter.

“My friend Evie Shane made the reservation. Maybe it’s under Evelyn Shane. It should be in the notes that I’m picking it up.”

Oh damn! My heart dropped. I stole her reservation.

“I am so sorry, miss.” The agent actually seemed remorseful. “There is nothing here under Evie or Evelyn Shane. And we don’t have any more available cars. We have two cars with reservations left. If they cancel, we can give you one. Or you can wait for a return.”

“I can’t wait. I have to leave now,” she said, planting both hands on her face as if holding in her emotions. “This cannot be happening.”

“You can try the rental company across town,” he suggested, “but with the convention…”

Gabbie let out a moan. “I don’t even have a phone.”

I finished signing my paperwork, and my agent handed me the keys.

“Can you do me a favor?” I asked, keeping my voice low. “Can you see if there are any notes on my reservation?”

“Sure.” She typed something. “Hmm…just that you have another pickup person and an alternate driver. Someone named G Jones.”

We both awkwardly glanced over to Gabbie and her agent, who awkwardly glanced right back at us.

“Did you take my reservation?” she huffed, near tears.

“No… no,” I said defensively. “I made my reservation. There must have been some kind of mix-up.”

“Unbelievable,” she groaned as she grabbed a rolling suitcase and a large backpack that I just noticed. She made a beeline for the door, looking like she might scream, cry, or both.

“Hey, where are you going?” I called after her as she pulled the large glass door open and slung the rolling suitcase out.

She looked back at me, shooting daggers with her eyes. “I’m going to go figure out my fucking life!”

“Give me one second.” I waved to my agent, then followed Gabbie out the door.

She was moving surprisingly fast, given all she was carrying. I did a quick sprint to catch up to her.

“Gabbie, wait.” I called out to her several times, but she ignored me and stormed out of the parking lot. “Maybe you can just get a flight to wherever you’re going.”

“I can’t do that,” she spat and kept going.

“Well, maybe you can rent a car in another town.”

“I’d need a phone to call and have to use a credit card to rent a car,” she groaned, adjusting the backpack as we trekked along the side of the palm tree-lined road.

No phone and no credit card. Did I think that was weird? Sure, but I couldn’t stand to see her like this, walking down the side of the road.

“Gabbie, please, stop. Look, I’m heading to San Francisco. Maybe I can drop you off somewhere.” I was basically pleading with her, but she didn’t stop. “Where are you going?”

“Rosetta, California.”

I jumped in front of her, forcing her to stop. “What are you going to do? Walk to California?”

“Since you stole my reservation,” she panted. “I have no choice.”

How could she be even hotter when she was upset?

“I’m sorry, ok? I don’t know how that happened. But if you need to get to Cali, we can go… together.” I looked at her and gave her my softest, most charming smile.

She looked at me, eyes glaring, lips pursed, like she wanted to shove my sorry ass into traffic. But then, there it was. The look of realization that she didn’t have a lot of options. And of those options, walking across the country was the worst one. Her eyes and jaw relaxed, and I knew I had her.

Then she hurled her backpack at me and almost knocked me into traffic. I tossed her bag over my shoulder as she turned around and practically stomped back to the rental agency. I enjoyed the view, and I didn’t mean the sunny, palm tree-lined street view. This was going to be fun.