2
Raina.
I didn’t cry when my car died.
I wanted to. I came close. But instead, I just stood there on the side of the road, staring at the steam curling out from under the hood like it was personally mocking me.
Of course it would happen today. Of course it would be ninety-two degrees and I’d be wearing the one damn dress I can’t sweat in without it clinging like plastic wrap.
I dialed the tow company. Straight to voicemail.
The sun beat down harder. I paced, kicked the tire, cursed out loud, looked around. There were no cars. There was no Uber. I was halfway between town and nowhere.
And that’s when the black Mercedes slowed beside me. The window was down, there was an arm resting lazily against the door. And there was that same cool, unreadable face behind the wheel.
Dominic.
I
