demanded.
“Of course I can drive. Everyone can drive.” She knew this ploy. He was asking a question that he knew the answer to in order to lead her into another subject. “Do you think I would have asked to borrow your truck if I couldn’t?”
“You might. You might have decided to learn on my new truck. And it’s not true that everyone can drive,” he said merrily, as though he liked the sound of his own voice, which he probably did and she couldn’t blame him for. It was a beautiful voice. “Children can’t drive. Saudi Arabian women can’t drive. Blind people. New Yorkers. “But I’m not any of those things, am I? So I can drive.”
“I thought you were a New Yorker.”
“You thought wrong. Besides, people who live in New York can drive. It’s just that public transportation is so good that they don’t have to.”
“But you lived there.”
“I did for a time.”
“Where are your people? Where are you from?”
“My mother died when I was a baby. I don’t remember her. My father, stepmother, and their children live in Dallas. I don’t see them much.”
“So their children—they would be your siblings?”
That took her aback. Of course, they were—half, anyway. She knew that but she didn’t feel it. She hardly knew them.
“We aren’t close. They’re much younger.”
“You don’t sound like Texas.”
“Don’t I? I guess I’ve lost it. I went to boarding school in the East.”
“So you must have been a privileged little princess or you wouldn’t have gone to boarding school or been at Aunt Amelia’s charm school all those years ago.”
“Not really.” She certainly hadn’t been anyone’s princess. “I guess we were a little nouveau riche at the time, though more nouveau than riche. But my stepmother is better at spending money than my dad is at making it so I’m not sure they’re doing much more than keeping up appearances anymore.”
“If that’s so, how did they afford all that fancy schooling?”
“My grandmother left a trust for her grandchildren but it was very specific. It could only be used for education. I was smart enough to get into good schools. The money was there. I’m sure it galled Jolie that she couldn’t use the money to buy animal print upholstery, but the upside was she got to be rid of me.” She stopped abruptly. “Why am I telling you this?”
“I asked. And, as a loyal disciple of Amelia’s Fortnight of Refinement and Training for Young Ladies, you’re polite. My aunt saw to it, in spite of your money-grubbing stepmother.”
“I didn’t say she was money-grubbing.”
“You kind of did.”
“Yeah, well. If the Manolo Blahnik fits … ”
“Who?”
“It’s a high-end shoe brand. I’m surprised you don’t know about it.”
“Yeah, because I am all about some high-end shoes.”
“I would have thought you might have bought some for a woman or ten.”
“High priestess of correct behavior that you are, I figured you’d know it’s not proper for a man to buy a woman personal items unless she’s his wife.”
“I do know. I just didn’t think you’d care. What do you buy for your women?”
“I don’t have any women.” He looked uncomfortable, probably because he was lying. Finally, some fun.
“You have in the past. I’ve seen pictures. I know you’ve given them presents. I want to know what they are.”
“Autographed pictures of myself. That would only be for birthdays and Christmas. I send a CD for the breakup gift.”
“Breakup gift?”
“The thing that softens the blow when you have to say, ‘It’s not me, it’s you.’”
“Don’t you mean, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’?”
“Nope.” He turned the truck down Main Street. “It’s never me. They get a CD. I get the hell out. Everybody’s happy.”
“What a prince you are.”
“Hey. I sign it. My brother Gabe gives jewelry. Maybe you’d like that better.”
“No.”
“Oh? What would you want for a kiss-off gift? I might consider
“Of course I can drive. Everyone can drive.” She knew this ploy. He was asking a question that he knew the answer to in order to lead her into another subject. “Do you think I would have asked to borrow your truck if I couldn’t?”
“You might. You might have decided to learn on my new truck. And it’s not true that everyone can drive,” he said merrily, as though he liked the sound of his own voice, which he probably did and she couldn’t blame him for. It was a beautiful voice. “Children can’t drive. Saudi Arabian women can’t drive. Blind people. New Yorkers. “But I’m not any of those things, am I? So I can drive.”
“I thought you were a New Yorker.”
“You thought wrong. Besides, people who live in New York can drive. It’s just that public transportation is so good that they don’t have to.”
“But you lived there.”
“I did for a time.”
“Where are your people? Where are you from?”
“My mother died when I was a baby. I don’t remember her. My father, stepmother, and their children live in Dallas. I don’t see them much.”
“So their children—they would be your siblings?”
That took her aback. Of course, they were—half, anyway. She knew that but she didn’t feel it. She hardly knew them.
“We aren’t close. They’re much younger.”
“You don’t sound like Texas.”
“Don’t I? I guess I’ve lost it. I went to boarding school in the East.”
“So you must have been a privileged little princess or you wouldn’t have gone to boarding school or been at Aunt Amelia’s charm school all those years ago.”
“Not really.” She certainly hadn’t been anyone’s princess. “I guess we were a little nouveau riche at the time, though more nouveau than riche. But my stepmother is better at spending money than my dad is at making it so I’m not sure they’re doing much more than keeping up appearances anymore.”
“If that’s so, how did they afford all that fancy schooling?”
“My grandmother left a trust for her grandchildren but it was very specific. It could only be used for education. I was smart enough to get into good schools. The money was there. I’m sure it galled Jolie that she couldn’t use the money to buy animal print upholstery, but the upside was she got to be rid of me.” She stopped abruptly. “Why am I telling you this?”
“I asked. And, as a loyal disciple of Amelia’s Fortnight of Refinement and Training for Young Ladies, you’re polite. My aunt saw to it, in spite of your money-grubbing stepmother.”
“I didn’t say she was money-grubbing.”
“You kind of did.”
“Yeah, well. If the Manolo Blahnik fits … ”
“Who?”
“It’s a high-end shoe brand. I’m surprised you don’t know about it.”
“Yeah, because I am all about some high-end shoes.”
“I would have thought you might have bought some for a woman or ten.”
“High priestess of correct behavior that you are, I figured you’d know it’s not proper for a man to buy a woman personal items unless she’s his wife.”
“I do know. I just didn’t think you’d care. What do you buy for your women?”
“I don’t have any women.” He looked uncomfortable, probably because he was lying. Finally, some fun.
“You have in the past. I’ve seen pictures. I know you’ve given them presents. I want to know what they are.”
“Autographed pictures of myself. That would only be for birthdays and Christmas. I send a CD for the breakup gift.”
“Breakup gift?”
“The thing that softens the blow when you have to say, ‘It’s not me, it’s you.’”
“Don’t you mean, ‘It’s not you, it’s me’?”
“Nope.” He turned the truck down Main Street. “It’s never me. They get a CD. I get the hell out. Everybody’s happy.”
“What a prince you are.”
“Hey. I sign it. My brother Gabe gives jewelry. Maybe you’d like that better.”
“No.”
“Oh? What would you want for a kiss-off gift? I might consider
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