“Yeah, it’s a total piece of shit, but it’s reliable.”
Aaron shakes his head in disgust. “Are you trying to scare him away on purpose?”
“No, I’m trying to bring him back to earth.” I smile as excitement sweeps through me.
“He’ll land with a thud; that’s for sure.” Aaron smirks.
I laugh as I begin to google campgrounds. “This is going to be so much fun.”
On Friday afternoon, I drive into the underground parking lot of Jameson’s building with a huge smile on my face. I’ve laughed all the way here from Molly’s house. I’ve called Jay and told him to be waiting near the door for me to collect him.
I drive around the corner, and I see him standing there waiting with Alan and our bags. He sees me, and his face drops.
I honk the horn and bounce in the seat and pull Bessie the pickup truck up beside him.
His face horri
fied, he comes to me, and I roll down the window. “Going my way?” I ask.
“What the fuck is this?” he gasps.
“This is Bessie.” I smile proudly.
Alan puts his hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing out loud.
“What?” Jameson frowns as he looks at the huge, beat-up light-blue truck. His eyes come back to me.
“Get in, Miles.” I smile and wiggle my eyebrows. “I’m taking you camping.”
Chapter 19
He stares at me, lost for words.
Alan drops his head as his chuckle breaks through.
Jameson stares at me . . . horrified.
I laugh out loud at the look on his face. I put the pickup into park and jump out and start throwing our bags into the back.
“You can’t be serious,” Jameson stammers.
“Deadly.”
His eyes scan the beat-up old truck. “This car isn’t even roadworthy.”
“It’s not a car—it’s a truck.” I smile as I slam the back shut. “Her name is Bessie.”
Jameson puts his hands on his hips. His eyes glance to Alan, who is laughing out loud.
“This isn’t fucking funny, Alan,” he snaps. “I don’t camp, Emily. Surely you would know this. What on God’s earth would make you think of this cockamamie idea? This is not relaxing me in the slightest. I can feel my blood pressure skyrocketing by the second.”
Alan drops his head and really begins to laugh. “Forgive me, boss man, but this is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Can I take a photo for Tris?” he asks.
“Absolutely not,” Jameson huffs. “Shut up, or I’ll make you come with us.”
Alan bites his bottom lip to stop the giggles.
“Why would we need to take this . . .” He pauses as he finds the right word. “Hunk of junk?”