Read Online In the Groove by Pamela Britton - Free Book Online

Distraction. Of the feminine kind.
    Sal would kill him.

    He'd kissed her.
    Sarah opened her eyes hours later with that exact thought on her mind.
    He'd kissed her and she'd opened her mouth and wanted more.
    Stupid, stupid, stupid.
    And fie on him. She should be outraged that he'd taken advantage of her when she was...
    Stoned.
    Okay, no doubt about it. She'd been high as a kite and done something really, really stupid.
    "It 'cause I give you the wrong medication," Rosa confessed a half hour later, after Sarah tiptoed down the stairs with her heart pounding. She didn't want to bump into Lance.
    "The wrong medication?"
    Rosa nodded, her black hair turned nearly blue by the light that ebbed in from the kitchen window. "He tell me to get the medicine from the cabinet above the sink. I get you that medication. Only your medication is by the sink, not above it"
    "Oh my gosh," Sarah gasped. "So what'd I take?'
    "Percolate, or something like that."
    "Percocet?"
    "Yeah. That it," the big woman said, pointing a finger. "Percocet. Mr. Lance, he call the doctor this mornin', but Doc tell him not to worry. You be fine in a couple hours."
    "You gave me the wrong medication," Sarah repeated.
    "I did, but you no sue me, 'kay? And you no sue Mr. Lance. It was accident. No harm done."
    No harm done.
    She'd just about thrown herself on top of "Mr. Lance." No harm done, indeed, Sarah thought, watching as Rosa started scrubbing the counter, a hint of bacon and eggs lingering in the air. Rosa must have cooked that for Lance after she'd passed out
    "Where is Mr. Lance?" Sarah said, unable to stop the wince from crinkling up her face as she waited for her answer.
    "He go out. Big meeting with the mucho grande sponsor. Not be home 'til dinner. He say not to drive the big bus today."
    She wouldn't have to face him. Oh, thank God she wouldn't have to face him. Not yet at least.
    "I'm fine," Sarah said. "That medicine just knocked me for a loop, but I can drive now."
    "I no think that's a good idea." But something in the woman's eyes made Sarah think she actually thought that was an excellent idea. "Mr. Lance, he might get mad."
    "Well, Mr. Lance can just get mad then. If I don't leave today, I won't make it to Daytona in time."
    "I still think you should wait for him."
    "But then he'll insist I stay here another night."
    "Yeah, but then he no get mad at me."
    "Hmm, well, if you really think it's a bad idea—"
    "No, no," Rosa said quickly, confirming what Sarah already suspected—she didn't want her around.
    "You leave if you think you have to. I pack you a lunch."

    Three hours later she was on her way, Rosa having come up with the idea of enlisting Sal as an accomplice. An hour after the housekeeper's call, Lance's business manager had arranged for someone to come over to Lance's house and show her how to operate the million-dollar bus.
    One million dollars.
    One million dollars.
    The words kept replaying through her head in the voice of Austin Powers' Dr. Evil.
    Stop it, she told herself. She would not think about how much the darn thing was worth.
    And so she didn't, putting it from her mind and pretending she was once again driving for Alameda County Transit, but even that was hard to do given that fact that county buses didn't have a GPS display taking up a portion of the dashboard. They didn't have lead crystal odometer displays and twenty-thousand-dollar stereo systems hanging above a person's head. They didn't have plush leather seats and they sure as certain didn't have an automatic dial-up system that phoned OnStar when you didn't wear your seat belt. The first time Sarah had heard the discombobulated voice say, "Hello, OnStar," she'd just about jumped out of her driver's seat. And when the woman had told her they had a seat belt alert, she'd felt like Big Brother was watching her.
    Gradually, very slowly, she began to relax.
    A man whistled when she parked the bus later that night The guy was an eighty-year-old Johnny Carson look-alike