Read Online Finding Mr. Right Now by Meg Benjamin - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Meg Benjamin
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ominously.
“Well, shit,” Monica muttered. “I’ll talk to them.”
She checked the highway before jogging across. There had been a few passing cars. A couple of drivers had even stopped to ask if they could help. She wondered briefly how many people would have done that in L.A.
“Okay,” she called as she approached them, “I just talked to Glenn. We’ll go into Salt Box with the car and see how bad the damage is. We may need to stay overnight.”
Billy Joe’s lip curled. “Overnight in a town called Salt Box? Jesus. We’ll probably end up on somebody’s couch.”
“I don’t know where we’ll stay. We can check it out when we get there. With any luck we’ll be on our way tomorrow.” She gave them all a smile that was probably much too bright for the situation.
“Donovan isn’t sending another car?”
She hadn’t seen Paul until he spoke. He leaned against a large pine tree slightly uphill from them. She shook her head. “No. Glenn said to just take it easy for a while. I’ll give the car rental agency a call once we get to Salt Box. Maybe they can send us a replacement.”
Paul’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Salt Box is only a few miles from Elkhorn Run. It’s where the overflow from the resort ends up.”
“So they should have hotel rooms?”
He nodded again. “Assuming they’re not filled up. This is the high season for summer tourists right now.”
“There’s the tow truck,” Brendan said as a large yellow truck rolled to a stop beside the SUV. Monica headed back across the highway.
The driver was already out of the truck, shaking his head at the crumpled front fender. He pulled off his cap, unleashing a shock of stiff blond hair as he rubbed a hand across his nose. He nodded at Monica. “You the driver?”
“Yes, but I don’t own the car. It’s a rental. My name is Monica McKellar. The rental agency told me to phone the auto club, and they called you.”
The driver nodded. “So what happened here? Somebody run you off the road?”
She shrugged. “There was a deer.”
He walked slowly around the back end of the SUV, pursing his lips. “Can’t tell much about the damage ’til I get it back to the shop. Looks like the axle’s okay, though.”
“It’s your garage?” She managed to keep the surprise out of her voice, but just barely. The driver didn’t look old enough to own a garage.
“Yes ma’am, it is. Al Monteith, at your service.” He gave her hand a desultory shake, then settled his cap back on his head. “You got any other car around to take you to town?”
“No sir. It’s just us.” Monica glanced at the darkening woods. Not having a car hadn’t seemed like much of a problem up until now.
He shrugged. “I’ll call somebody to pick you up, then. There’s not enough room in the truck for all six of you.” He pulled his cell from his pocket, punching in a number.
“How far are we from Salt Box?” Monica had a sudden vision of the six of them packed in the back of somebody’s rusted-out pickup.
“Couple of miles.” Monteith turned away, plastering a hand to his ear as he spoke into his cell. “Clark? I’ve got some people here who need a ride into town. Their car’s been in a wreck.” He nodded, listening to something on the other end. “Right. I don’t know, I’ll ask.” He turned back to Monica. “You going to need a place to stay?”
She nodded, trying not to chew her lip.
“Yeah. There’s six of them. You got anything? Okay, they can work it out when they get to town.” He flipped his cell closed. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. Praeger House only has a couple empty rooms, but they may be able to find you some more someplace else if you need them. It’s the summer high season right now.”
Behind her, she heard Billy Joe snort impatiently. Once again, she gritted her teeth. “Thanks. That’s very kind of you.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Praeger House. After you see the bill. ’Scuse me. I need to get this
“Well, shit,” Monica muttered. “I’ll talk to them.”
She checked the highway before jogging across. There had been a few passing cars. A couple of drivers had even stopped to ask if they could help. She wondered briefly how many people would have done that in L.A.
“Okay,” she called as she approached them, “I just talked to Glenn. We’ll go into Salt Box with the car and see how bad the damage is. We may need to stay overnight.”
Billy Joe’s lip curled. “Overnight in a town called Salt Box? Jesus. We’ll probably end up on somebody’s couch.”
“I don’t know where we’ll stay. We can check it out when we get there. With any luck we’ll be on our way tomorrow.” She gave them all a smile that was probably much too bright for the situation.
“Donovan isn’t sending another car?”
She hadn’t seen Paul until he spoke. He leaned against a large pine tree slightly uphill from them. She shook her head. “No. Glenn said to just take it easy for a while. I’ll give the car rental agency a call once we get to Salt Box. Maybe they can send us a replacement.”
Paul’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “Salt Box is only a few miles from Elkhorn Run. It’s where the overflow from the resort ends up.”
“So they should have hotel rooms?”
He nodded again. “Assuming they’re not filled up. This is the high season for summer tourists right now.”
“There’s the tow truck,” Brendan said as a large yellow truck rolled to a stop beside the SUV. Monica headed back across the highway.
The driver was already out of the truck, shaking his head at the crumpled front fender. He pulled off his cap, unleashing a shock of stiff blond hair as he rubbed a hand across his nose. He nodded at Monica. “You the driver?”
“Yes, but I don’t own the car. It’s a rental. My name is Monica McKellar. The rental agency told me to phone the auto club, and they called you.”
The driver nodded. “So what happened here? Somebody run you off the road?”
She shrugged. “There was a deer.”
He walked slowly around the back end of the SUV, pursing his lips. “Can’t tell much about the damage ’til I get it back to the shop. Looks like the axle’s okay, though.”
“It’s your garage?” She managed to keep the surprise out of her voice, but just barely. The driver didn’t look old enough to own a garage.
“Yes ma’am, it is. Al Monteith, at your service.” He gave her hand a desultory shake, then settled his cap back on his head. “You got any other car around to take you to town?”
“No sir. It’s just us.” Monica glanced at the darkening woods. Not having a car hadn’t seemed like much of a problem up until now.
He shrugged. “I’ll call somebody to pick you up, then. There’s not enough room in the truck for all six of you.” He pulled his cell from his pocket, punching in a number.
“How far are we from Salt Box?” Monica had a sudden vision of the six of them packed in the back of somebody’s rusted-out pickup.
“Couple of miles.” Monteith turned away, plastering a hand to his ear as he spoke into his cell. “Clark? I’ve got some people here who need a ride into town. Their car’s been in a wreck.” He nodded, listening to something on the other end. “Right. I don’t know, I’ll ask.” He turned back to Monica. “You going to need a place to stay?”
She nodded, trying not to chew her lip.
“Yeah. There’s six of them. You got anything? Okay, they can work it out when they get to town.” He flipped his cell closed. “He’ll be here in a few minutes. Praeger House only has a couple empty rooms, but they may be able to find you some more someplace else if you need them. It’s the summer high season right now.”
Behind her, she heard Billy Joe snort impatiently. Once again, she gritted her teeth. “Thanks. That’s very kind of you.”
“Don’t thank me, thank Praeger House. After you see the bill. ’Scuse me. I need to get this
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