“Hey, Lucy?”
“Yeah. Who is this?”
“Joey down at Sunset.”
The bartender? Strange. “What’s up?”
“I got a guy here says he needs a ride.”
“A ride!” She laughed. “Who the hell is he?”
“Hold on a second...buddy? What’s your name?” There was a thump and a rustle. “Good Lord, he’s real drunk, Lucy. Says his name is Reese and he knows your...ah...” Billy cleared his throat.
Lucy rested her head against the wall. “My boobs?”
“Something like that.”
“Did he drive there?” Lucy asked, leaning back slightly to see the digital clock on the microwave. Midnight.
“Nope. Chris down at the garage dropped him off. Wait... he, uh...he says he’ll pay you. Fifty bucks.”
She laughed again. Well, if Reese was that kind of fool she could chauffeur his drunk butt back up to Jeremiah’s.
“Tell him a hundred and I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
She hung up and stared at her chipped nails against the black of the phone. A year ago she’d been invited to the Academy Awards because her necklaces were a part of the presenters’ gift baskets.
Now she was a gardener and a chauffeur.
Life sure was funny.
Twenty minutes later she parked in front of the Sunset and went inside to pick up her passenger.
“Hey Joey,” she said, walking in.
Joey looked up from the pint of beer he was pulling and jerked his head toward the dark corner where the bar met the wall. There, his face resting peacefully on his hands, slept Reese.
“This something new you’re doing?” Joey slid the beer to a man at the other end of the bar and walked toward Reese. “A taxi service?”
“I guess so.” She sighed, thinking it was a joke.
“Well, it’s about time someone did. You could make a fortune.”
Lucy blinked up at Joey. “I thought you were kidding.”
“Hell no. We got a problem with drunk drivers around here. If there was someone I could call to take folks home, I’d be doing it five times a night.”
She put up her hands. “I am not in the taxi business,” she said.
“Hey.” Reese grinned up at her. “My carriage has arrived.”
“Sure as hell looks like you are to me,” Joey said, arching his eyebrow as he walked to the other end of the bar.
“Come on, Reese. Let’s get you back to Jeremiah’s.”
She arranged him in the passenger seat of the car, putting his hat in his lap so it didn’t get crushed against the roof. For good measure she unrolled the window.
“If you’re going to puke, you do it out the window.”
His salute was messy. Everything about Reese was messy.
“This is a shitty car,” he said, as if just realizing where he was.
“Well, it’s the one taking you home, so keep your opinions to yourself.”
“You always were tough, Lucy Alatore.”
“And you always were trouble, Reese. But I hear you won yourself a big purse in Fort Worth.”
“Yep.” He burped. “Lots of money. Thought Jeremiah could help me spend it.”
“Not quite what you expected, huh?”
“He used to be so much fun. So…wild. A night out with Stone and you had no idea what was going to happen. One time after he won we woke up in a fishing boat off the coast of Mexico. I’d gotten this.” He yanked his shirt up to reveal the legs of a woman tattooed on his stomach.
“She’s a beaut.” Luckily, Reese was too drunk to pick up the sarcasm.
“I thought he’d dropped out of contact because of the injury. I didn’t know he was taking care of his sister’s kids. Christ…what a nightmare for him.”
Her head jerked sideways at Reese’s words. Did Ben think that Jeremiah hated him because he’d said that? “Did he say that?”
“What?”
“That his life was a nightmare?”
“No, but God…look at it. Three kids? And that Ben…wow.”
Wow kind of summed it up. But Reese’s attitude made her angry, like he was ready to walk away, writing off the whole situation. But a guy like Reese, with his life, it probably was a nightmare.
“And stuck here?” Reese shuddered.
“It’s not so bad.” The words were as much of a surprise to her as they were to him. “It’s quiet. Pretty.” That much was true. There were aspects of this town she’d never appreciated growing up, with her eye always on the big city.
But the big city had been one big disappointment.
“I suppose that’s true. But God…there’s nothing to do here.”
Nothing except work. If she had any creative spark left at all, she’d be getting so much work done right now. But that was a moot point.
“Are you angry about your car?” she asked.
“No. I mean, a little. But it’s just a car. It’ll get fixed.” Reese shook his head, and the sadness wafting off him smelled like smoke from a damp fire. “I wish I knew what to say to Jeremiah, but I came up here, took one look at what he was up against and started drinking. I don’t know how he does it.”