Pedal to the Metal: Love's Drivin' but Fate's Got the Pole (The 'Cuda Confessions Book 3)

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Book: Pedal to the Metal: Love's Drivin' but Fate's Got the Pole (The 'Cuda Confessions Book 3) by Eden Connor Read Free Book Online
Authors: Eden Connor
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gotten my teaching certificate. Just in case. I doubted I’d make it one day as a teacher. I pictured small children wetting their pants when I lost my temper.
    “Did you know he’s the new CEO of Ryder Industries?”
    The emergency entrance flew past on my right. The way Ernie was driving, I wondered if we might save time and check in now. Gripping the arm rest, I tried to sound like I wasn’t having a three-alarm panic attack. Since the wreck, Francine’s sedate driving was more to my liking.
    “I have no idea what Ryder Industries might be.”
    Ernie turned to give me a look, while the truck rocketed down the steep hill. Heat flashed over my skin, turning my bulky college sweatshirt into a sauna. Shaking his head like I was a lost cause, he cleared his throat. Jesus, Ernie, will you look at the road?
    “Huge conglomeration. Buncha manufacturing outfits under their umbrella. That car polish company he was talkin’ about has been around for forty years, but like Jonny said, nobody’s ever heard of ‘em. Still, Ryder Industries can sure as hell afford to pay you to promote their product.”
    Dammit, Ernie, shift up or brake. The whining diesel engine hurt my ears. The nails on my right hand buckled. I stuck my left hand to the dash, eyeing the approaching yield sign and the onrushing traffic. A ticklish line of sweat ran from under one breast.
    “Except, the ‘Cuda was part of his deal, and it’s long gone.” I held my eyes open wide, but that didn’t stop the stomach-wrenching image of the car flipping inside my head. Sweat popped out on my upper lip. I released the arm rest, trying to spin a wheel that didn’t exist, in a futile attempt to prevent a wreck that’d happened ten weeks ago.
    “Okay, hear me out, because this is badass, as you say. I had no idea what Jonny meant that night when he mentioned your two million followers. I was afraid you started your own cult.” He laughed at his own joke, heedless of the way I gripped the dash and made useless circles with the other hand, while I prayed for the Technicolor movie in my head to stop.
    “But I did some pokin’ around to find out what that meant. That’s when I realized, the beauty of this deal is that only you can do the job. He can hire a thousand pretty gals to push his stuff. Any shiny muscle car will do. But only you have the car and two million people who already listen to what you got to say. So that job’s still sittin’ there, Shelby. All you need’s another ‘Cuda.”
    The flashback relented at last. I gasped for breath, swiping my forehead with the cuff of my sleeve. Ernie didn’t notice my distress, since he finally got busy slamming on the brakes at the bottom of the hill and cursing the four o’clock traffic on North Pine Street.
    “Over three million now,” I gasped.
    The damn dream. I was used to jerking awake, drenched in sweat, three, sometimes four times a week, screaming so loud on occasion that Becca had taken to feeding me Benadryl before bedtime. But never once had I had it while wide awake. My heart pounded, and I’d swear a tiny devil used my eardrums to send coded messages back to Hell.
    “I can’t afford another ‘Cuda, Ernie,” I managed to say. “Dale got two hundred grand for mine after I wrecked it.”
    “Okay, hear me out, ‘cause I put some serious thought into this.”
    Put some serious thought into your fucking driving, won’t you ? I adjusted the triangular vent window to throw cold air in my face. My stomach lurched when he stomped the gas and pulled out in front of a Mini Cooper.
    Almost there . “Okay.” I clenched the armrest with one hand and the dash with the other, battling the urge to wrap my arms around my head.
    “The sticker price of that Audi’s one eighty and change. But, it’s gonna depreciate every year. You can get one-sixty-five in a fire sale today and it’s all profit.”
    One eighty? “I had no idea it was worth that much.” The black wrought iron fences of the

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