Page 25 of Never Marry the Best Man (Whatever It Takes #4)

“My father is a member, we’ve all been there before. Thea knows her way around a fly rod, but I can’t imagine her going there of her own free will unless Phoebe Philo happens to be doing a photo shoot by the side of the stream. Maybe it’s a different Thea.”

“Maybe. Claire says the fishing party is still out. Let’s get started on your response to the Saltzman people.

I put down some talking points here, but I thought it would be best if you wrote it in your own words.

” She handed over her laptop and he focused in, typing slowly, striving for a tone that was humble yet confident, charming yet sincere.

Silence settled in, just the ambient sounds of keys clicking, text responses chiming, and the car moving through city traffic and eventually onto open highway.

Until Ranney made a sound that he would describe as a nervous ‘hmm’.

“What is it?” he asked.

“It’s your Thea. And five of her friends. They’re sitting by the pool, drinking gin and tonic and dancing on the lounge chairs.”

“Hmm,” he responded nervously.

“There’s nothing Claire can do, they’re not our clients and they’re not even technically causing a problem… yet. All we can do is wait.”

“Yes, my father and stepmother have often said the same thing.”

“How–if I may ask–does it usually turn out?”

“Varies.”

Sighing, Ranney leaned forward. “Achilles, can we go any faster?”

“Oh, I am so sorry, no. This is the posted speed limit. As a driving professional, I cannot exceed–”

“No, no, of course. I understand.” Sitting back, she gazed out the window for the first time. “Tom, look at this! It’s gorgeous! And there’s no one here but us, all the way to the horizon. You would never be that alone in the Northeast! Look at the colors!”

“Beautiful,” he agreed, but he was looking at her, her hair falling softly around her face as she leaned toward the glass, enchanted with their surroundings. In the eyes of the state of Nevada, US immigration, and–he hoped–the Saltzman committee, his lawful wife. He felt perfectly at peace.

This was unexpected. As a beginner at this marriage business, a new recruit so to speak, he had always had a vague idea that on his wedding day he would feel a range of emotions, all of them intense.

Depending on whom he was envisioning as the new Mrs./Lady Phillips, he’d anticipated everything from soaring rapture to a severe hangover, but peace had never been part of the picture.

Everything about Ranney continued to surprise him. Or at least, his feelings for her did.

Her text chimed and she lifted the phone from her lap, but in a distracted way, her attention still on the scenery around them. She read the screen; she looked back out the window, then she said, “They just took the Freestone’s Range Rover and said they were going fishing–Thea and her friends.”

“They what? ”

“There’s still nothing to do but wait. Charlie’s not even on the premises, and they haven’t left the property, so it’s still the club’s responsibility.”

“As you said, they haven’t technically done anything wrong yet.”

“The thing is, though, they said they were going fishing and they didn’t take anything with them. No rods, no what-do-you-call-them? Waders. Just a handle of Bombay Sapphire and half a case of tonic.”

“Oh, don’t worry, then. They’ll be back in an hour, tops.”

“I’m telling Claire to sit tight for now.”

“Sort of like sitting in a dark interior closet waiting to see if the tornado hits your house.”

“Thanks for that image.”

“Do you want me to text Thea, find out what’s going on?”

“You mean, tell a young twenty-something woman that the grownups are watching her and she’d better behave herself?”

“Right. Maybe not.”

She was still typing when a low, repetitive thumping sound entered his consciousness, like a very gentle rumble strip or the beginning of a… flat tire.

The only Greek words Tom understood were derived from either mythology or menus, but he could recognize swearing in any language when he heard it.

“What’s happening?” Ranney sounded momentarily confused, then: “Oh, no. No no no!”

The sound was getting louder, the thumps stronger.

Achilles flipped on the turn signal, although there were no vehicles behind them–or even ahead of them–and moved slowly to the extremely narrow shoulder of the road.

When they’d come to a full stop, he said, “Do not worry, I have much experience with this. We will be on our way in a moment.”

“I’ll help you,” Tom offered.

“What should I do?” Ranney asked. “Do I need to get out?”

“Just sit tight for a minute,” Tom told her. “I’ll let you know.”

To keep the air conditioning on, Achilles left the car running. Tom jumped out and met him at the hatchback. They had no luggage of any kind, so Tom expected an empty space with easy access to the spare-tire compartment. Instead, as the door lifted, he saw it was packed to capacity.

His heart sank. It must be 120 degrees on this desert highway, Thea and her friends were about to wreak some kind of havoc on Ranney’s unsuspecting co-worker, and now, what should have been a standard twenty-minute tire change was going to involve unloading and reloading what looked like the entire contents of someone’s dorm room.

At least one item was a welcome sight: A case of bottled water sat on top of an unopened carton of newborn-size diapers. There were also two boxes of what looked like textbooks and three-ring binders, a big bag of laundry, and a number of plastic bags full of grocery store items.

“There’s a lot of cargo space in these things,” Tom commented. “What’s with the diapers? I didn’t know you had kids.”

“Andromache, my wife–she volunteers at a clinic and most of the new mothers don’t have much. They need supplies. Sometimes between rides I stop at Sam’s Club or Walmart, see what they have on special.”

Instantly, Tom was ashamed of himself for judging the jumble in the car. He unbuttoned his shirt and stripped it off, down to the tee underneath.

“Right, then, let’s go. Ranney, my darling? Just stay there until we get this emptied out and we can see what we’re working with.”

They started piling the contents on the pavement beside the car.

What he’d been able to see at first was just the surface; behind it and underneath it was more of the same.

But there were two of them, and there was no way around it.

In ten minutes, they stood looking into the compartment, where a flimsy-looking jack and a tire iron rested on top of a small rubber doughnut.

“I do not usually leave the city,” Achilles said apologetically. “I did not expect to have to drive so far on this little spare.”

“We only need to get to a tire store,” Tom said, thinking it through. “How far to the nearest one?”

“I’m googling it,” Ranney called. “Hold on–ah, looks like forty-five minutes.”

“Okay, then. Let’s get to work,” he said to Achilles. “Ranney, I am so sorry, but we will need you to step out for a few minutes. I think I saw an umbrella in here somewhere, you can use it for shade.”

“Of course! Not a problem at all– whew!” When she emerged from the back seat, the intense heat hit her hard.

Achilles ran to dig out the umbrella and unfurled it for her.

While she watched, they assembled the jack, removed the flat, and replaced it with the little doughnut.

It wasn’t quite as simple as that–there was a fair amount of grunting and struggling–but the job got done and the rear compartment got repacked, minus a few bottles of water.

They all drank one, and the impromptu automotive technicians, who were perspiring heavily by now, each poured a bottle over their heads.

In all the time they’d been pulled over, not a single other vehicle had appeared on either side of the highway.

“I’m glad I wasn’t alone on this trip,” Ranney said as Achilles cautiously accelerated back onto the highway, staying in the right-hand lane. “I couldn’t have done that by myself.”

“Teamwork. Where did you say the tire store is?”

“Miller’s Gap. Should we call them and be sure they have what we need?” She was pinning up her hair, getting it off her neck, and all he wanted in that moment was to press his lips against that warm skin, so much that he was unable to answer her simple question.

“I’ll take that for a yes,” she said lightly, but her tone changed when she’d been connected to the right person at Miller Auto Supply.

The tire was apparently in stock, but: “Closing in twenty minutes? But it’s only three thirty!

A funeral? Oh, I’m so sorry for your loss, but–is there any way we can get that tire?

We absolutely need to get to Idaho as soon as possible.

Yes, I can give you a credit card number–you can leave the tire outside?

Will it be safe?” Tom could hear the guy laughing over the phone.

“Population of how many? Okay, here’s the card number. ”

When she’d ended the call, she announced, “We’re all set! Looks like the store is about half an hour from the highway, once we get to–what’s the name of it?–Miller’s Gap. The tire will be outside the back door.” Her tone was pleased, a problem resolved.

“Will there be someone to install it?” Achilles asked, sounding somewhat less pleased. “The balancing..?”

“Well, you two can do that, right? You did such an amazing job back there, and so fast. We don’t really have to balance it, do we?”

Tom and Achilles exchanged an aggrieved glance in the rear-view mirror but they said nothing, and the little SUV rolled slowly on.

According to Ranney’s plan, they arrived in Miller’s Gap and quickly located the auto supply store.

Their tire was by the back entrance, as promised, with a paper receipt taped to it and a sturdy jack leaning against the wall.

This time, they knew what they were doing, and the cargo was unloaded and stacked efficiently.

The new tire was mounted, the donut replaced in its compartment, the cargo was re-loaded, and in forty-seven minutes they were headed back to the main highway.

A quick detour into Carlene’s Cowgirl Cafe gave them all a chance to clean up, at least minimally, and they left carrying paper bags overflowing with burgers and fries, chili dogs, fried chicken, containers of homemade pie (three kinds), and drinks.

“What exactly is a chicken-fried steak?” Tom had asked, pondering the menu, but his companions–one from the Mediterranean and the other from New England–were unable to enlighten him.

By now, the tire emergency had added hours to their trip, making this more of an early dinner than a late lunch.

They had a long drive ahead, but at last they were on their way, and once they’d licked the last delicious bits of salt and grease from their fingers, everyone relaxed and settled in.

Achilles put in his airpods for an advanced ESL lesson; Tom went back to work on his letter to the committee.

At first, Ranney appeared to be dealing with an ever-growing mountain of email and messages but, sitting beside her, Tom noticed frequent pauses during which she either stared out the window at the scenery or down at her hands.

“Feeling okay?” he asked.

“Oh, yes! Just, you know, not used to wearing a ring. Don’t you notice yours?”

”Yes, I suppose so. Had my mind on other things, I guess.” He looked down at his own left hand. The gold band was meant to be a symbol of something eternal, a physical reminder of a spiritual bond.

Permanent.

How long would it be there on his finger? How long would she wear hers? Was this the classic Vegas-wedding scenario with a shelf life of a few months, or could their true selves transcend the trite circumstances?

He knew she didn’t believe this was anything other than transactional. He couldn’t exactly fault her for that, could he? After all, she had just taken an extraordinary leap for no other reason than to help him.

To be honest, it was an extraordinary leap for both of them.

He was infatuated with her in a way he’d never experienced before, but even he knew the difference between infatuation and the real deal.

They had not been together through thick and thin.

An emergency landing, a flat tire, a career glitch that, however much it meant to him, was very much a first-world problem–these were not foundational relationship challenges.

They hadn’t been together long enough to get bored or annoyed or to see each other’s worst sides. They hadn’t been together at all, really–they hadn’t even slept together! Talk about an odd blend of traditional and unconventional.

They were savings themselves for marriage. He nearly brayed with laughter at the absurdity of it.

There was no denying that they’d put the cart before the horse.

He was married. To Ranney.

Anything can happen.