Mike glanced over at Zach. “See what I live with?”
“Those are the conditions, Michael.”
Mike tossed the keys at her again.
“Zach, do me a favor, will ya? Teach her how to drive it. I have a meeting to attend.”
Mike and Tony turned around and left the two of them standing in the driveway.
“Son of a bitch,” Zach said. “He was always going at Mach speed when he lived in Utah, but I don’t remember him being this intense.”
“You’re seeing the city boy. What I want to know is where the country boy went.” Karen glanced at him briefly and ducked into the house. “I’ll meet you out here in an hour. I don’t want to attempt to drive this thing in the dark.”
Karen didn’t even try talking to Michael before he left. She knew from experience that he wouldn’t be home anytime soon and not to count on him for dinner. She showered and slipped into a California-casual outfit for early summer, a.k.a. sandals, Capri cotton pants, and a short-sleeved shirt, and then walked through the kitchen, checking the time. In the driveway sat a zillion-dollar car for which she barely knew how to open the door, let alone drive.
She stared at the car and found it to be a symbol of her husband’s life, over the top and flashy in every way. If there was any possibility of Michael getting his life in perspective, it hinged on Utah. Hinged on family.
Thinking of family, she realized she hadn’t spoken with her aunt in at least a month. She didn’t hear Zach in the house and decided she’d take the last ten minutes before her driving lesson to call her only relative.
The phone rang twice. “Sedgwick residence.”
“Hi, Nita. It’s Karen. Is my aunt home?”
“Hi, Miss Karen. Yes, let me get her for you.”
Karen waited for her aunt’s housekeeper to fetch her. Man, they’d both elevated in life a peg or two. Her aunt had married a wonderful man named Stanley only a few years before. Stanley had contacted Alliance in an effort to find him a young and temporary wife to tick off his money-hungry children and grandchildren. Although Karen never considered the proposition, she’d met with him at Eliza’s request and decided that what he really needed was a strong woman willing to put his family in their place. The rest, as they say, was history. Stanley and Aunt Edie married, and after a little drama, the kids figured out that Aunt Edie didn’t do well with slackers and freeloaders, all of which Stanley’s kids were.
“Karen?”
“Hey, Aunt Edie.”
“How are you, honey? Are you eating?”
Karen laughed. Seemed all Aunt Edie worried about was if she was eating enough. “Yes, ma’am. I haven’t called in a couple of weeks.”
“Well you’re a busy girl. How’s your Hollywood husband?”
“He’s fine. Off doing the Hollywood thing. How’s Stanley?”
“He’s good. The doctor gave him a clean bill last month. All the blood work looked good.” Her aunt went on for a while about medicine and tests, much like everyone seemed to do when they passed the age of seventy. She finished talking about their health with a pause.
“Michael and I are going out of town for a couple of weeks.”
“Oh?”
“He has family in Utah he hasn’t seen for a while.”
Aunt Edie hesitated. “You’ve not met them?”
Karen knew her aunt already knew the answer to her question. “No…well, except for his brother. Not his parents.”
“A man who doesn’t introduce his bride to his parents…”
“Edie!”
“Don’t Edie me. It’s not normal.”
This wasn’t the time to bring Edie up to date on the future, or lack thereof, of her marriage.
“It’s fine. I’m OK. I promise.”
“I should have done something different—”
“Edie. Stop. I’m good.”
“Your mother didn’t deserve you.”
They’d had this discussion before, too. “Tell Stanley I said hello.”
“You’re cutting me off.”
“I’m saying good-bye. I have a driving lesson to get to.”
Edie sighed into the phone. A heavy gesture meant to make Karen notice. “I love you.”
“Love you too, Auntie. Big kiss to that studly husband of yours.”
That got the laugh out of her aunt that she loved to hear.
Zach stood outside leaning over the car. He’d combed his hair back and changed his shirt. The black button-up linen gave him a mysterious edge and made him look like he belonged on the back of his motorcycle or in the driver’s seat of the McLaren. She allowed herself one brief glance at his backside as he bent over the car. His sex appeal was effortless. She wondered if he knew how much. Michael wore his like a badge, but with Zach, he didn’t seem to notice.
Ignoring the way her skin heated, she removed her eyes from the package known as Zach, and asked, “Are you ready?”
He twisted around. His gaze traveled her body and then rested on her eyes with a soft, approving smile. “Are you?”
“How hard can it be?”
“Have you driven a manual transmission before?”
“Learned on my uncle’s Jeep when I was sixteen.” She glanced at the floor of the driver’s seat. “Where’s the clutch?” She looked for the lever to change gears. “You sure this is a manual transmission?”