Not Pretending Anymore by Ward, Penelope (big ebook reader .TXT) 📕

I covered the phone and asked the other driver, “Are you hurt in any way? They’re asking if we need medical treatment.”

His response was curt. “I’m fine. Just tell them to hurry it up.”

I returned to the operator. “No, thank you. We’re both okay. Apparently the only things damaged are our cars and the other driver’s manners.”

Mr. Mercedes scowled at me.

I scowled right back.

After I hung up, I held out my paperwork to him. “Why don’t we exchange insurance information before the police come? I also have an important appointment to get to.”

He grabbed papers from his own car and pulled his license from his wallet. I took a photo of Hollis LaCroix’s ID. Naturally, he actually lived on Park Avenue—that went with the whole package. After snapping a shot of his insurance and registration, I noticed he was still examining my license when I finished.

“I can assure you it’s real, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

He took a photo of my license and held it out to me with my other paperwork. “Connecticut, huh? That explains a lot.”

I snatched my stuff from Mr. Rude Hollis LaCroix. “How so?”

“You don’t know how to parallel park.”

My eyes narrowed. “I’ll have you know, I’m a very good driver.”

He tilted his head toward his car. “I have ten thousand dollars’ worth of damage that says otherwise.”

I shook my head. “You’re an ass. You know that?”

I could’ve sworn I saw his lip twitch, like he enjoyed getting a rise out of me. Thankfully the police arrived so I didn’t have to deal with him anymore. After talking to the officer and giving my version of the story, I went to sit in my car. The police then spoke to Hollis. My stomach growled while I watched the two men talk outside, so I grabbed the bag of junk food I’d bought to watch movies with Bree tomorrow night and munched on a box of Junior Mints. Eating the snack made it feel like I was in the audience watching a show—a show with one damn good-looking leading man.

Hollis really was handsome. Tall, broad shoulders, narrow waist, Coppertone tan, dark hair that was a little too long at the collar and didn’t exactly match his immaculately tailored suit. But it was his bright green eyes and thick, dark eyelashes that were the showstoppers.

As if he felt me staring, he looked over at my car, and our eyes met. I didn’t bother to turn away and pretend I hadn’t been watching. Screw him. If he could check out my legs, I could look at his pretty-boy face. When he didn’t stop staring, I flashed an overzealous and clearly phony full-tooth smile.

That time there was no mistaking the twitch, mostly because it was followed by a full smirk. Hollis looked away, turning to speak to the police officer again, and I felt like I’d won an unspoken staring contest. By the time they finished and the officer walked over to my car, I’d downed the entire box of Junior Mints.

“Alright, Ms. Atlier. This paper has your police report number on it. You can go online and get the actual report in about twenty-four to forty-eight hours, or stop down at the precinct and pick up a copy.”

I took the paper. “Thank you. Did you put down that the accident wasn’t my fault?”

“I listed the facts. It’s up to insurance to assign the percentage of fault to each driver.”

I sighed. “Okay. Thank you. Is there anything else? Because I have an appointment I really need to get to.”

“No, ma’am. If your car is drivable, you’re free to go. Mr. LaCroix has to wait for a tow.”

“Okay. Great. Have a good day, officer.”

“You, too. And be careful driving.”

It felt odd to just pull away without saying anything to Hollis. So I waited a minute, until the cop got back into his car and drove off. Then I got out of my car and walked over to the Mercedes. Hollis was leaning against his trunk, playing with his phone.

“Umm…is there anything you need?” I asked. “A ride or anything?”

“I think you’ve done enough for the day. Thank you.”

God, why did I even ask?

“Great.” I offered an insincere, plastic smile. “Have a nice life.”

CHAPTER 2

Hollis

Addison was going to kick my ass for being late. I’d asked her to sit in on the interviews as a favor, and wound up missing the entire first one. I looked at my watch. The second one was likely half over by now, too.

The elevator arrived at the fifteenth floor, and I walked through the double glass doors, tossing my briefcase on the reception desk. Everyone was gone for the day, but I heard voices coming from the conference room down the hall. I was already late, so stopping at the men’s room couldn’t make it any worse.

I yelled to let Addison know it was only me. “Addison, it’s Hollis. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Nice of you to show up!” she shouted. “Maybe you need to replace that gaudy Rolex you wear with a Timex.”

I ignored her and went to the men’s room. I’d had to take a piss for the better part of an hour while waiting for the damn tow truck. After washing up, I took off my jacket and headed to the interview. With the day I’d had, I really hoped the candidate was a good one. I needed help desperately.

Addison had pushed her chair back to look down the hall and saw me coming. She tapped her watch. “Had this thing for fifteen years. Paid only fifty bucks for it, if I remember correctly. Yet it miraculously manages to keep time.”

“Sorry I’m late.” I walked into the conference room and turned to offer an apology to the candidate sitting with her back to me. “Someone hit me while I was trying to pull into a parking spot.”

The woman turned and started to speak. “That’s funny… I—” She stopped mid-sentence, and I looked down to find out why.

You’ve gotta be