Read Online The Hamilton Heir by Valerie Hansen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Valerie Hansen
Ads: Link
matter.”
“I know, but…” She started past him, hoping he’d continue with whatever he’d been on his way to do. Instead, he fell into step beside her.
“I hope it doesn’t look too good,” Tim quipped. “I know how you hate nice cars.”
Dawn made a face at him. “The cars are fine. It’s the pretense I don’t care for.”
“The way I look at it,” he drawled, “it’s only a pretense if you can’t afford it and are putting on airs. A good car is a tool of the trade, like anything else.”
“Not to me, it isn’t,” she argued. “It’s a survival necessity.”
They’d reached the employee parking lot and paused. Apparently, the rental was still on its way because there were no extra vehicles in evidence. Dawn folded her jacket close in front and crossed her arms.
Tim struck a nonchalant pose. “Well, at least you’ll have wheels for your meal deliveries tonight.”
“Tomorrow night,” she countered. “I deliver on Mondays and Wednesdays, remember?”
“That’s right. You did say that, didn’t you? Have you given any thought to writing the feature article we discussed?”
Dawn huffed. “That’s all I have thought about. I’m afraid I’m in way over my head.”
“I don’t think so. When I was little, Dad used to tell me tough jobs were just like eating an elephant. If you tried to do it all at once, you’d fail, but if you took it one bite at a time, no job was too big.”
She smiled, remembering. “My father used to say that was the way to eat a whale. I guess the difference was the Gulf coast influence.”
“Guess so.” He shifted his weight, giving her the impression he was anxious to be on his way.
“You don’t have to stand here with me and waste your afternoon,” Dawn said. “Go back to work. I left at least seven phone messages on your desk. Every caller swore his problem was a matter of life and death.”
“That important, huh?” Tim smiled at her. “Okay. If you’re sure you want to get rid of me, I’ll go. Just promise you won’t be too fussy about the car, whatever it looks like. We were lucky to get one at all.”
“As long as it runs well enough to get me home and back, plus my meal deliveries, I’ll be happy.”
She was watching him walk away when a sleek black convertible with a flawless, mirror finish and more chrome than Felicity’s ’59 Caddy cruised into the parking lot and headed straight for her. That couldn’t be her rental car, could it? The thing was glittering like a Mardi Gras parade float!
The young, long-haired driver, wearing a baseball cap and coveralls, stopped the car and held up a clipboard. “You Dawn Le…something?”
“Leroux,” she said. “Yes. That’s me.”
“Then this here is your buggy.” Climbing out, he handed her the key ring as a pickup truck pulled in behind them. “There’s my ride.” He shoved the clipboard at her. “Sign here, lady.”
“But, that’s, that’s—”
“A fine set of wheels, if I do say so myself.” He pushed a pen into her hand.
“I can’t accept it.”
The driver rolled his eyes. “What’s the matter? Wrong color?”
“No, it’s…”
She was trying to come up with a logical explanation when Tim appeared behind her, took the clipboard and scrawled his signature boldly across the form.
The driver, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe anyone would hesitate to accept delivery of such a fine, high-performance vehicle, climbed into the pickup truck and rode away.
Dawn spun to face Tim. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“Knew what? That you were getting a car? Sure. You told me, remember?”
“You know what I mean. This is not just a car. It’s an expensive car.”
“Very.” He was smiling. “So?”
“So, what did you have to do, buy it?”
“Let’s just say the Hamilton influence has handy fringe benefits. If driving it embarrasses you, blame me.”
The keys were clenched so tightly in her hand they were making dents in her palm. She lowered
“I know, but…” She started past him, hoping he’d continue with whatever he’d been on his way to do. Instead, he fell into step beside her.
“I hope it doesn’t look too good,” Tim quipped. “I know how you hate nice cars.”
Dawn made a face at him. “The cars are fine. It’s the pretense I don’t care for.”
“The way I look at it,” he drawled, “it’s only a pretense if you can’t afford it and are putting on airs. A good car is a tool of the trade, like anything else.”
“Not to me, it isn’t,” she argued. “It’s a survival necessity.”
They’d reached the employee parking lot and paused. Apparently, the rental was still on its way because there were no extra vehicles in evidence. Dawn folded her jacket close in front and crossed her arms.
Tim struck a nonchalant pose. “Well, at least you’ll have wheels for your meal deliveries tonight.”
“Tomorrow night,” she countered. “I deliver on Mondays and Wednesdays, remember?”
“That’s right. You did say that, didn’t you? Have you given any thought to writing the feature article we discussed?”
Dawn huffed. “That’s all I have thought about. I’m afraid I’m in way over my head.”
“I don’t think so. When I was little, Dad used to tell me tough jobs were just like eating an elephant. If you tried to do it all at once, you’d fail, but if you took it one bite at a time, no job was too big.”
She smiled, remembering. “My father used to say that was the way to eat a whale. I guess the difference was the Gulf coast influence.”
“Guess so.” He shifted his weight, giving her the impression he was anxious to be on his way.
“You don’t have to stand here with me and waste your afternoon,” Dawn said. “Go back to work. I left at least seven phone messages on your desk. Every caller swore his problem was a matter of life and death.”
“That important, huh?” Tim smiled at her. “Okay. If you’re sure you want to get rid of me, I’ll go. Just promise you won’t be too fussy about the car, whatever it looks like. We were lucky to get one at all.”
“As long as it runs well enough to get me home and back, plus my meal deliveries, I’ll be happy.”
She was watching him walk away when a sleek black convertible with a flawless, mirror finish and more chrome than Felicity’s ’59 Caddy cruised into the parking lot and headed straight for her. That couldn’t be her rental car, could it? The thing was glittering like a Mardi Gras parade float!
The young, long-haired driver, wearing a baseball cap and coveralls, stopped the car and held up a clipboard. “You Dawn Le…something?”
“Leroux,” she said. “Yes. That’s me.”
“Then this here is your buggy.” Climbing out, he handed her the key ring as a pickup truck pulled in behind them. “There’s my ride.” He shoved the clipboard at her. “Sign here, lady.”
“But, that’s, that’s—”
“A fine set of wheels, if I do say so myself.” He pushed a pen into her hand.
“I can’t accept it.”
The driver rolled his eyes. “What’s the matter? Wrong color?”
“No, it’s…”
She was trying to come up with a logical explanation when Tim appeared behind her, took the clipboard and scrawled his signature boldly across the form.
The driver, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe anyone would hesitate to accept delivery of such a fine, high-performance vehicle, climbed into the pickup truck and rode away.
Dawn spun to face Tim. “You knew, didn’t you?”
“Knew what? That you were getting a car? Sure. You told me, remember?”
“You know what I mean. This is not just a car. It’s an expensive car.”
“Very.” He was smiling. “So?”
“So, what did you have to do, buy it?”
“Let’s just say the Hamilton influence has handy fringe benefits. If driving it embarrasses you, blame me.”
The keys were clenched so tightly in her hand they were making dents in her palm. She lowered
Similar Books
