10. Chapter Ten
Chapter Ten
Elowen Briar
A GQ Cover Has Come To Life In Front Of Me - Present
Istand completely still in the street between my car and a few of the brick buildings. What is this guy doing? I can see his bright eyes through the shadow drawn across him. They shine like LEDs. Try something with me and I will scream. I mean it.
He steps forward, but he looks sick. “Are you okay? You look like…” I stammer.
Like he hasn’t slept in a year. This guy is beyond pale.
He takes small, calculated steps toward me.
I don’t move. I stand firm in front of my left driver’s wheel.
I know enough self-defense to know that one crack with the corner of my phone to his temple would drop him, no matter how big he is.
He finally reaches the fully lit patch of roadway under the pole light.
Holy shit. He looks straight out of GQ.
He opens his mouth to speak and stutters a little at the start.
“G-good evening. I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to frighten you.
I was trying to think of what to say and realized that whatever I say from a distance is going to sound bad, no matter what.
Uh… Are you lost?” He ends with a smile.
Not a serial killer smile. A reassuring, I am not here to make the news, smile.
“My car won’t start. It’s almost cranking, though?
Is that the right word? I was out tonight and when I came back it just wouldn’t turn over.
I think the battery is dead, but I can’t be sure.
I am far from a mechanic.” I shrug and steady my breathing.
Be cool, Elowen. My pulse picks up in my neck like my fight or flight is as confused as I am.
I gesture to the hood, as if that helps prove I’m not making this up.
I was calm, then I was nervous, then calm again, and now I’m blabbering like a fool. Great.
“That is rather unfortunate, miss. Mind if I take a look?” He squints, while throwing me a smirk.
He has a devil made me do it swagger and seems completely oblivious to how attractive he is.
While also being a little awkward. His hair is midnight black with blood-red streaks that scream danger, messy just enough to look effortlessly rebellious.
His eyes are a clear, cutting green that could pass for emerald.
Those eyes alone could make me forget my own name. Oh God. What is my name?
Did he just smirk? Pure sin. I have a feeling he doesn’t ask for permission much. If he wants something, he takes it.
He’s wearing a black leather jacket like he’s just left a biker club, yet something about him reads dark prince with a crooked halo.
An earring glints at his earlobe, a tiny bat on a chain that looks like he might’ve stolen it from my collection of mismatched jewelry.
Underneath the jacket he has on a deep plum button-down, the top is undone just enough to hint at a sigil tattoo across his chest.
“Yeah, go ahead. If it starts though, please refrain from taking off with my car. I really don’t have the energy to kick your ass,” I joke as I hand him my keys.
“Duly noted, Ms…?” He cocks his head, waiting for my name. There’s a twinkle in his eye that should come with a warning label.
“Elowen. Elowen Briar. And you, mystery man?” I need to shut up.
His eyes widen. Color seems to ripple through them like the thought of my name changed the shade.
I extend my hand and he hesitates a heartbeat before his skin meets mine.
“That’s beautiful. I’m Beau. Beau Drewitt.
” His grip is firm. Heat sparks up my arm and sets off a chain reaction of terrible ideas.
I would bark for this man. Which is as ridiculous as it sounds, but would be totally understandable for anyone with eyes and a pulse.
Still, I don’t even know who he is. Although if kidnapping were on the table, I could be convinced. Kidding. Probably.
“Ms. Briar. Or Mrs? Sorry.” I don’t respond.
I am chronically single. The only relationship I have is with my dog and the lesbian allegations against my best friend, Imani and I.
He coughs to avoid the awkwardness and tries the key.
The engine gives a tired click and nothing else.
He moves back to the hood and closes it with care.
I still don’t even attempt to answer the question.
I’m too busy spiraling over the idea that he actually considered I might be married, or in any sort of relationship, for that matter.
If I were, it would have to be against someone’s will, likely theirs.
Also, the reality is sinking in that my car is not leaving this lot tonight.
“Don’t worry. The towing company will be free in the morning, I’m sure. Did you have one in mind?” He rakes his eyes over my body.
“How did you know I was having trouble with the towing company?” I take a step back and scan the buildings, trying to get my bearings. He is definitely about to adult-nap me.
“Were you trying your hand at the mechanic gig before calling them then? I fully support the idea of women in male-dominated fields, by the way. Maybe with a little more practice first, though?” Beau winks.
I cover my mouth and giggle despite myself. He tracks the movement like he cannot for the life of him understand why I would hide my smile from him. He seems overtly curious. Too curious. He’s right. I’m being extremely paranoid. He just happened to be here. Right place, right time.
“Take my card,” he says. “I run that bookstore behind you. The address is on the front so you know where to send the tow company in the morning.” He flicks the card to the edge of his long fingers adorned with black nail polish.
Well, definitely the right place. I’m the stranger lurking in this circumstance. Our fingers graze when he passes it to me. His touch is a live wire, but he is as cold as ice.
“Thank you. I’ll probably just call an Uber. Or a friend? I’ll figure out something. I really appreciate it though. Seriously.”
“Let me do it. It’s the least I can do since I can’t jump-start it.
” He pulls out his phone. A few minutes later he turns the screen toward me.
“I can have the ride details transferred over to you. I only need your number now since I already have your name. It’s a private charter service for the area. ”
I glide my eyes across him once more and look behind him at the bookstore, “A private charter service. Wow.”
“I shop locally, what can I say?” His gaze slides over me like he’s cataloging my measurements. He seems to do it without thinking. A cheeky smile tilts his mouth as he offers the phone again, revealing his perfect pearly-whites.
“Oh. Sure,” I stumble over my words. He’s in the contacts app, which is a choice.
He only needs the number field in whatever app he has, but I shamelessly type it in.
He probably knows that and doesn’t care.
He’s just showing me a small kindness, not trying to get in my pants. If he did want to though…?
“Here you go. Please pick the cheapest option, Mr. Drewitt. I really don’t need anything fancy. If I get ticketed for leaving the car, I’ll have plenty of debt besides paying you back.”
“Don’t you dare think of any of this as a debt to me.
Meeting you this evening has been my pleasure and honor,” Beau reassures me.
He glances past me at the storefront. He’s unbelievably kind.
Making him very much an outlier compared to every other male I’ve met.
“I’m bound to some things that require attention at the shop.
If you have any more trouble, come on in.
I’ll leave the door unlocked until your ride gets here.
Not many people are out this late, but just in case. ”
“Thank you. Goodnight, Mr. Drewitt.”
“Have a nice night, Ms. Briar?” He slides his hands into his pockets, smiles, and turns away.
What the fuck was that? Thanks and goodnight? That’s all I could muster. Out of my endless vocabulary. Really? I have too many degrees for this conversation to have gone so poorly.
I lean against the hood and try not to combust. Handsome and kind is a deadly combination in today’s society.
The only right thing to do is to come back tomorrow and return the money.
I can pull cash so he has no ability to refuse.
Or, leave it on the counter with a note.
A handwritten thank you as a subtle flirt, maybe.
My phone buzzes and I ignore it at first. Probably the ride.
I look up at the now-lit store. He didn’t flip the open sign, but I can see him on a ladder near the front window, reorganizing a shelf.
The jacket is gone. He has pushed the cuffs of his shirt to his forearms. I step closer, staying just outside the pool of light.
Am I being a creep?
There’s a strip of sidewalk that holds an old wooden pole.
If I stand here, I can watch without being obvious.
I sneakily peer around the pole. Inevitably, he isn’t on the ladder anymore.
He’s crouched on one knee, arranging spines and dusting as he goes.
The tendrils of a tattoo slip below his sleeve, ink drifting towards his wrist. I can’t make out the design.
His arms are perfectly sculpted making his tattoos that much more intriguing.
Headlights flash as a car pulls over near me. Hazards click on and the gentleman rolls down his window, “Ride for Elowen.”
I glance down at my phone, “Oh, I’m sorry, sir. One second. This vehicle is…”
One new message:
Ride arranged for: Elowen Briar to TBD
Car: Full-tint Black Porsche Panamera
License plate: [redacted]
Driver: Lenny
Current location: Crimson & Quill Bookstore on 11th
Sure enough. Of course. He booked the most expensive ride in a fifty-mile radius.
“Yes. Sorry,” I tell the driver, turning my phone to confirm it is, in fact, my ride after all.
He gets out and opens the rear door with a little bow that makes me snort.
I look back towards the shop. Beau stands with one foot braced in the doorway, watching.
He smiles gently, flashing his bright white teeth at me. I try for a shy wave.
My face lights up, burning hot, like I’m back on the verge of spontaneous combustion. A blacked-out Porsche Panamera. It is gorgeous. Although, completely unnecessary. I’ll never be able to repay him, let alone tip the driver what he deserves. I live twenty miles from here.
“Where to, Ms. Briar?” The chauffeur asks me.
I give him my address and sink into the seat.
My thoughts tumble like loose change. I’m flustered enough that words practically fall apart in my mouth.
I try Imani’s cell to let her know I have a ride home.
As it begins to ring, my phone dies. Love that for me.