Chapter 2
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As we wait for the overworked rental car staff to track down the keys to our Hyundai Sonata, my new friend gives me a genuinely concerned look. “And you’re sure you’re not on the run from the law or anything, right? Nothing that’ll get me in trouble?”
“No, no. I’m just on a very important mission.”
See? Harmless.
But just in case, I should probably let someone know I’m doing this.
I’m not about to terrify my parents. They don’t even know I’m taking this trip in the first place; they turn into nervous wrecks whenever I travel alone and then inevitably guilt me into calling every thirty minutes to reassure them I’m alive and well— Call, Millie, not this texting nonsense.
We need to hear your voice. Not to mention my father would alert every extended family member and old friend we have in the state of Florida that I’ll be “in the area,” making me look bad when I don’t drive five hours out of my way to visit them.
My younger brother is currently studying abroad in Denmark, and I’m fairly certain if I’m out of sight I’m out of mind when it comes to him.
Not someone I would trust to notice with any expediency if I go missing.
And while I have a wide swath of people who appreciate my company in small doses (or maybe hang out with me because they like being able to say they know someone who used to be famous), I don’t really have any actual friends. Just Mrs. Nash, and she’s gone.
So I pull out my phone and text my favorite and least judgmental cousin, Dani: Was flying to FL but flight canceled so getting a ride to NC.
If you don’t hear from me by midnight tonight, tell the police I was last seen with Mike Burton from Charlotte.
Late 50s, Black, bald, pretty tall, and very huggable.
Within seconds, Dani sends a thumbs-up emoji.
Mike is going through his phone, still searching for that video of Rockem and Robot with the hot dog when the rental car lady returns with the keys. But as I turn toward the exit we need to reach the Parking 1 garage, Hollis appears behind me, his arms folded tight across his chest.
“Hello again,” I say.
“Hi.” Hollis gestures to Mike with his chin. “Who’s this?”
“Hollis, meet Mike. Mike’s a hospital exec headed home to North Carolina from a conference. Mike, this is Hollis, a grumpy, blocked writer on his way to a sex appointment in Miami.”
Mike gives Hollis a questioning look but says, “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Hollis replies.
“Mike has graciously offered to let me travel with him to Charlotte.”
“But you’re going to Key West. Charlotte’s not even halfway.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” I say. “I know how distance works. But beggars can’t be choosers. I’m sure I’ll figure it out. Maybe the planes will be up and running again by the time we get there, or I can find my own rental car, or a bus, or another friendly stranger...”
Hollis rubs his hands through his hair and makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “Fine. Grab your bags, Millicent.”
“What?”
“Grab your bags. You can ride with me to Miami.”
My hands find their way to my hips. I should probably be glad he’s changed his mind, but right now I’m mostly annoyed.
If Hollis was going to give in and let me go with him, why couldn’t he have done so earlier?
We’ve already wasted so much time—time I don’t exactly have.
“I thought you said that unless I could offer sex or inspiration, you didn’t want me around. ”
Mike’s eyes bounce between us. It’s like the video he showed me of Sockem observing a tennis match at their local park. Apparently, the pugs are very popular on TikTok.
“Sorry, if you could just give us a minute,” Hollis says to Mike while guiding me off to the side so we can continue our discussion in relative privacy. “If it’s either your luggage in my trunk or your dismembered body parts in someone else’s, I’d prefer the former.”
“Excuse you. Mike is lovely and very not-murdery.”
Hollis looks back at Mike, who is smiling down at his phone and humming “Soul Man.” “I’m not worried about Mike.
Mike’s probably fine. But it’s a long trip from Charlotte to Miami, and you apparently have very few qualms about requesting rides from strangers.
So excuse me if I’d rather know for sure that you arrive in Florida safe, sound, and with all of your limbs intact. ”
“Ooh, stranger danger,” I say, wiggling my fingers in the air. “Did you forget that you’re a stranger too, Hollis?”
“I’m not a stranger. We’ve met before.”
“You don’t even remember it.”
His frown deepens. “Well, I know you’re safe with me. And since I’m doing this for my own peace of mind, that’s what matters here.”
“Oh, right. Right. Because you only do kind things out of selfishness.”
“Why are you saying it like that?” he asks.
“Like what? How am I saying it?” I smile up at him, watching the way his pulse jumps in his neck. Him finding me amusing is great and all, but I have to admit there’s an appeal to him finding me frustrating too.
“Ahem. Sorry to interrupt,” Mike says, appearing beside us. A blush sweeps over my face as I realize Hollis and I have been having a stare-off for the last minute and a half. “I need to get rockin’ and rollin’ if I’m going to get home tonight. Millie, are you still riding with me, or...?”
“Ah, sorry, Mike. As much as I was looking forward to being the Joliet Jake to your Elwood, it probably makes more sense for me to go with Hollis since he’s traveling farther south.
I’m really sorry for keeping you from getting on the road.
So uh, here.” I dig my wallet from my backpack and pull out two fifties.
“Here’s a quarter of what I promised you, to make up for the inconvenience. ”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.” But after I insist, Mike tucks the bills into a money clip and it disappears into his pants pocket. “Thanks, Millie. But for the record, I’d’ve been Jake. Belushi had the better voice.” He barks out a laugh, ending in a wide smile. “You take care now. Be safe.”
“You too,” I say. “Give my best to Carla and the puppies.”
“The puppies, huh?” Hollis says as we walk toward the exit.
“Mike and his wife are proud pug parents.”
Hollis sighs and rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything as he walks ahead.
After a short and silent journey, we arrive at his car in the Parking 2 garage.
Considering the circumstances—that I was weeping and suddenly single—I didn’t really notice his car the night he drove me home, but I assume this navy Volvo sedan is the same one he had a few months ago.
He tosses my suitcase into the trunk beside his duffel bag.
I settle into the passenger seat, my backpack on the floorboard between my feet.
When Hollis starts the engine, he lets out a little annoyed huff that might be directed toward me or maybe just toward the world at large.
“Thanks for changing your mind,” I say.
“I didn’t have much of a choice.”
“Don’t even. I would’ve been perfectly fine with Mike.”
He grips the steering wheel so tightly his fingers lose their color. There’s a beat of silence, and it lets a realization float into my brain.
“Hmm,” I say.
“What?”
I wait until he’s safely backed us out of the parking space. As he predicted, there’s a lot of extra traffic in the garage due to the mass cancelation. “Well, I was just thinking... there’s something I don’t understand.”
“Oh, it seems like there are a lot of things you don’t understand. Like basic self-preservation.”
“Why were you there, Hollis? By the car rental kiosks, I mean. That’s the Parking One garage, and your car was parked here, in Two.
” I watch his profile, waiting for him to respond.
When he doesn’t, I continue. “And you had a head start. About twenty minutes between when you left me and then when you showed up again. If you’d come straight to your car, you would’ve already been making your way down 95 by the time I met Mike.
Yet there you were, skulking around the rental car kiosks—”
“I wasn’t skulking.”
“Then what were you doing?”
He doesn’t respond.
“What I think,” I say, “is that you were about halfway to the garage when you realized there’d be a mad dash for rental cars. And your conscience refused to let you leave me potentially stranded, so you hung around to check on me.”
“You should be glad I did,” Hollis says. “Who knows what kind of mischief you would’ve gotten yourself into, getting into cars with strange men.”
On a more charming person, that would be said with a little smirk. But Hollis’s expression reads as completely serious, as if he doesn’t see the irony.
“Admit it,” I say. “You really are a cinnamon roll underneath that ridiculous burnt-toast disguise.”
“Huh? If you’re trying to imply that I’m secretly nice, I’m not. Still just selfish. You think I want to deal with the cops showing up at my door, all ‘Mr. Hollenbeck, we’d like to ask you some questions. It seems you were the last person to see Millicent Watts-Cohen alive’?”
“Of course. Nothing to do with you being a good person. Forgive me for suggesting it.”
“I’m not a good person, Millicent, and you best believe it. I’m a real jerk. A bad apple, through and through.”
I laugh. “You sound like Pee-wee Herman.”
“Excuse me?”
“Not your voice but like, you know. ‘You don’t wanna get mixed up with a guy like me. I’m a loner, Dottie. A rebel.’?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
I let out an intentionally wistful sigh that I know will annoy him. “I bet Mike would’ve understood my references.”
“Enough about Mike. Jesus.” Hollis taps his fingers against the steering wheel and bites his cheek. “You were really going to pay that man four hundred dollars to drive you six hours south?”
So much for enough about Mike. “I would’ve paid a lot more. I told you, I’m desperate.”
For a split second, he takes his eyes off the road and looks over at me. “This trip really means that much to you?”