Not You Again (The NOT Series Book 1) Read online

  “Time to get up, buddy.” Jacob the Driver lifted Peter the Broker as if he weighed no more than a sack of groceries. Before I could recover, my date was safely in the back seat. “Your turn,” the driver said, glancing my way.

  I emitted some sort of giggle slash snort combination before shuffling in beside Peter, trying not to suffocate on my embarrassment.

  Jacob closed the door and seconds later was back in the driver’s seat. The local rock station played on the radio, the volume just high enough to prevent total silence as the Buick cut through the early evening traffic with ease. Suddenly exhausted, I closed my eyes and thought about all the ways I was going to make Josie pay for this. Covering Peter’s half of dinner would be only the beginning.

  Chapter Two

  Our driver seemed to know exactly where to turn to avoid both the daring pedestrians and the massive city buses that rarely yielded to other vehicles. As we rode in silence, I caught glimpses of him in the rearview mirror. He had a pleasant face, short dark hair, and full lips with a perfect bow shape along the top. Though he wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t scowling either, and I had the inexplicable feeling that I was in good hands. That I was safe.

  Not that Pittsburgh was all that dangerous or that I feared other drivers. I was simply a person who never truly relaxed. It wasn’t in my nature. Yet as we sailed through the city streets, I felt lighter. As if the man in the front seat had everything under control, and for the next few minutes at least, I didn’t have to think about anything.

  “Thank you,” I said, grateful once again that he hadn’t abandoned the ride. “I didn’t realize he would be that heavy.”

  “No problem,” he replied, meeting my gaze in the mirror.

  When our eyes met, a tingle swept up my spine. His gaze returned to the road and I gave myself a mental shake. What the heck was I doing? I was no better than Evelyn at this point. Not that I would be seeing Peter the Broker again, but I should at least refrain from picking up a new man while still on a date with him.

  A laughable thought. I’d never picked up a man in my life, literally—obviously—or figuratively speaking. Brian and I had been high school sweethearts and I hadn’t dated since he’d… left.

  The Buick made a quick right off Boulevard of the Allies onto Second Avenue, tossing Peter against my side. “Are we going home?” he asked.

  “We are,” I replied.

  “Did we have a good time?”

  Doubtful he’d remember this conversation, I lied. “Loads.”

  “I’m glad,” he said, dropping his head onto my shoulder.

  “That makes one of us,” I muttered and caught Jacob’s gaze in the mirror.

  His expression changed and the disapproval hit like a smack. Bristling, I told myself to ignore him. Why should I care what a stranger I’d never see again thought of me? I was the one who’d endured an hour of listening to Peter whine about his ex-girlfriend and her tattletale lover. And I was the one whose neck he was currently breathing on.

  With a gentle nudge, I sent my cohort back to his side of the car.

  The trip up Second Avenue seemed to take forever and Peter’s head landed on my shoulder three more times. Thankfully, he wasn’t sober enough to try anything serious, and I did feel bad when I nudged him again and his head bounced off the car door window. This was his own fault though. I could have left him to fend for himself. Okay, I’d never do that, but someone else might have.

  As we turned right onto the Hot Metal Bridge, Peter’s head smacked off the glass again.

  Leaning over him, I positioned my purse as a pillow. “Lay on this.”

  He settled against the soft pink leather with a sigh and a smile, his mind seemingly free of Evelyn, at least for now. At the end of the bridge, Jacob made a left and turned into the parking lot of a large apartment building that looked to have been a factory in a former life.

  “Here you go,” he announced.

  I tapped Peter. “We’re here.” His eyes remained closed. “Peter? Are you awake?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Why hadn’t I gotten coffee into him before ordering the car?

  “You need to get out now.” Eyes still closed, he patted around for the door handle but found his own knee instead. I tossed the purse onto the seat beside me and reached across him. “I’ll get it.”

  The door flew open and we both tumbled out. When Peter’s head hit the pavement, he grunted in pain, while his foot kicked me in the boob. My yelp was followed by a few choice words as I teetered between agony and humiliation. Half in the car and half out, I struggled to right myself, and when I finally reached a sitting position, I looked up to find our driver looming above us both.

  “Can you get him inside?” he asked.

  Knowing my limitations, I said, “Probably not, but I’m hoping he can walk.”

  The driver scratched his head. “How much did he drink?”

  “One glass of wine and four martinis.” I stood up, careful not to step on my date. “He told me he wasn’t going to get drunk.”

  Squatting, he tapped Peter on the cheek. “He lied. Time to get up, buddy. Help your girlfriend out and get to your feet.”

  “I’m not his girlfriend,” I corrected.

  Brow arched, he looked up at me. “Does he know that?”

  As if to answer for me, Peter said, “I love Evelyn.”

  “See?” I replied. “He loves Evelyn.”

  Jacob shook his head. “Then can Evelyn help get him out from under my car?”

  I hadn’t noticed that Peter’s feet were under the vehicle. If Jacob tried to pull away, he’d have to run over my date to do it.

  Kneeling down, I tapped Peter’s cheek as Jacob had, only harder. “Come on. You have to wake up.” Tap, tap, tap. “Peter, wake up.”

  Bushy brows furrowed. “Let me sleep a little longer.”

  “On your feet,” Jacob said, lifting the drunk man first to a sitting position, and then upright. “Steady now.” He slowly eased his hands away, allowing Peter to stand on his own. To me he said, “He’s all yours.”

  “Thank you again.” I wedged myself under Peter’s right arm and moved us both out of the way so the beleaguered driver, who had already shown more patience than this situation deserved, could close the car door.

  Four steps later, my cargo nearly collapsed. I managed to keep us upright, though I had no idea how. Our progress was slow, and I realized there were no doors in sight, nor did I see signs leading to an entrance. I also had no idea how to find Peter’s apartment. As I was about to ask for his apartment number, my load got lighter.

  “Wha—”

  “Which way is it?” Jacob asked, shifting my useless date’s weight onto himself.

  The man was too nice for his own good, and he definitely wasn’t going to like my answer.

  “I don’t know.”

  Brown eyes turned my way, and I was struck by the length of his eyelashes. He probably wouldn’t appreciate being called pretty, but that was the exact word that came to mind. Actually, he veered closer to beautiful.

  “You don’t know?”

  There was that judgmental glare again. “I just met him less than two hours ago.”

  “Do you make a habit of picking up drunk men in bars and taking them home?”

  I could hardly unpack all of the accusations in that statement.

  “Not that I owe you any sort of explanation, but no, I do not. We were on a blind date, and he was sober when I met him. I had no idea he would get like this. If anything, you should be impressed that I’m going to such lengths to get a virtual stranger home safely.”

  “You want credit when I’m the one carrying him?”

  Touché.

  “A mere technicality.” Arguing was getting us nowhere so I turned my attention to the source of my problem. “Peter, wake up. We need your apartment number.”

  “Three oh four,” he replied.

  Jacob and I locked eyes, both surprised by the quick reply.

  “
You’re awake?” I said, pointing out the obvious.

  “Who could sleep with you two making so much noise?”

  Eyes half open, Peter stepped away from Jacob, surveyed his surroundings, and then strolled down the sidewalk to our left. He swayed a bit but remained upright and continued on at a steady pace.

  When he disappeared around the corner of the building I looked up at Jacob. “What if he falls again?”

  Heading back to his car, he said, “He’ll be fine.”

  He was probably right. And if Peter didn’t make it all the way to his own door, surely a neighbor would find him sleeping it off somewhere in the building. Declaring the disaster of a date officially over, I spun toward my ride, only to find the Buick backing out of the parking space.

  “Hey! Wait for me.”

  Whether he hadn’t heard or was purposely ignoring me I didn’t know, but Jacob drove out of the parking lot, leaving me once again in need of a ride. Now I had to order another car. With a sigh, I reached for my purse, but it wasn’t on my hip where it should have been.

  “Oh no.” I patted myself down as if the pink Longchamps bag I’d bought in Paris might be tucked inside a secret pocket. Damn it, that was my favorite purse. And double damn, my phone was in it.

  By some miracle, the white Buick was still sitting at the traffic light, and I broke into a run across the parking lot. I was thirty feet from reaching him when the light turned green, and I started screaming like a crazy woman.

  “Jacob! Wait! Wait!”

  Arms flailing, I changed direction so he would see me as he rounded the corner. With my eyes locked on the moving car, I failed to spot the low-hanging branch before it smacked me in the forehead, sending me to the ground.

  “Ow, ow, ow.” Hands on my head, I stayed on my back. “Could this get any freaking worse?” I asked no one in particular.

  “Are you always this much trouble?” a deep voice asked.

  Eyes shut tight, I sighed. I was too tired and humiliated to offer a witty comeback. “My phone and purse are in your car.”

  Several seconds passed before he spoke again. “Are you going to get up?”

  “Give me a second. I was just attacked by an oak.”

  “It’s a sycamore,” he corrected. Heartless. The man was absolutely heartless. “How are you getting home?”

  I removed the hand from my forehead and checked for blood. Thankfully, it was clean.

  “I was going to order another car, but you had my phone.”

  He extended a hand. “Come on. I’ll take you.”

  Desperate for this night to end, I slid my hand into his, which was strong and clean and twice the size of mine. Once upright, I straightened my clothes and brushed off my skirt, then retrieved the flat that had come off during my fall. The tree had literally knocked me out of my shoe.

  “How does it look?” I asked, tilting my face up for his examination.

  A warm thumb gently brushed my bangs aside. “You’re going to have an ugly bruise, but it didn’t break the skin.”

  I shook my hair back into place, bringing on a sudden bout of vertigo.

  “Whoa,” Jacob mumbled, his hands on my upper arms. “You good?”

  Blinking, I waited for the dizziness to pass before looking up again. Full lips curved down with concern as he watched me closely. I nearly reached out to touch them.

  “I need to go home.”

  “Where do you live?” he asked.

  “Two hundred Cowan Street in the old Prospect School building.”

  With a half smile that took my breath away, he nodded. “Okay then. Let’s go.”

  I’d have gone anywhere with him in that moment, but that euphoric feeling did not last long.

  “You shouldn’t sleep for a while,” Jacob said, interrupting my nap.

  “Why not?”

  “You just took a hit to the head.”

  He had a point. “Yes, I did. And I have the headache to show for it.”

  Jacob checked under my bangs again. “You’ll need to ice it. Is there someone at your place to keep an eye on you?”

  “Just Milo,” I replied, “but I doubt he’ll be much help.”

  “Why not?”

  “You know how they are.”

  “Men?” he asked.

  “Cats, but men aren’t at the top of my list right now either.”

  Whether he was offended or caught the hint I didn’t know, but Jacob went quiet after that. Thankfully, the South Side wasn’t far from Mount Washington, where I lived.

  He was right about the head injury, so I sat up straighter and stared out the passenger window. At Peter’s apartment building, I’d tried to climb into the back seat, but since Jacob was providing this ride out of the goodness of his heart and not through the app, he’d insisted that I sit in the front. Something about not being a chauffeur when he didn’t have to be.

  I watched a standard poodle drag its owner down the sidewalk as a young boy darted around them, pirate’s hat pulled low over his eyes and a grin on his face. Window after window sported Penguin signs. The regular hockey season had ended back in April, but the Pens were in the playoffs again, so the buzz continued into May. Pittsburgh had been a hockey town since I was an infant, when Dad and Uncle Reginald had been proud season ticket holders. My brother Joey and our cousin Tony had the seats now. I served as Joey’s backup when he couldn’t make a game, but he rarely missed, especially during the playoffs.

  Jacob took a left and the view changed. Trees showing off their new leaves filled the landscape. I’d heard many complaints over the years that Pittsburgh was nothing but gray, but there was plenty of greenery if you knew where to look. At least at certain times of the year, and May was one of them.

  My eyes grew heavy again, and not solely from the headache. This was my busiest time of year, and I’d stayed up way too late the night before going over the plan for the Matheson event. The bride and her mother had been my last meeting of the day before my date, and though I prided myself on never missing a detail, these particular clients were more meticulous than most, which added more stress to my plate.

  “You awake over there?” Jacob said, startling me.

  Lifting my head from the passenger door and having no idea how it got there, I said, “I am now.”

  “Somebody other than Milo needs to keep an eye on you for the next couple of hours.”

  He had a point and I knew just the person. “A friend of mine lives in my building. I’ll have her come down to my apartment.” Pulling up Josie’s number in my phone, I added, “I need to have a word with her anyway.”

  I’d planned to go home and go to bed, purposely making her suffer until tomorrow to hear how things went, but I also preferred not to die in my sleep. I fired off the text to meet me at my place in twenty minutes and dropped the phone back into my lap.

  “Thank you for your help tonight,” I said. “I’d probably still be trying to get Peter home if it weren’t for you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “I bet you see all sorts of things in this job.”

  “Yep,” he replied, navigating the car around a slow-moving minivan.

  I needed to feel better about this cluster of an evening, so I pushed for a better answer.

  “Dates that went way worse than this one, right?”

  Dark eyes cut my way for half a second before he shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  The thumping in my head increased. “That can’t be true,” I argued.

  Brow furrowed, he said, “The guy drunk off his feet by eight. The woman almost taken out by a branch. That’s tough to beat.”

  If there’d been a hint of a smile, I’d have said he was teasing, but I was starting to believe the man never smiled. Except for that grin that had lured me into this free ride.

  “The branch was your fault. If you hadn’t tried to leave me, then I wouldn’t have had to chase you down.”

  “You never said you needed a ride.”

  I spun t
o face him. “I told you that I’d just met him and that I didn’t even know where his apartment was. I clearly didn’t drive myself there, so how did you think I was going to get home?”

  “You didn’t put a second stop in the app,” he defended. “I picked up and delivered to the address I was given. The ride was over.”

  Damn it, he was right again. If I hadn’t been so busy trying to keep Peter upright, I would have taken the time to enter both of our addresses. But still. He’d nearly left me stranded.

  “You could have at least asked if I had a way home,” I said, sounding whinier than intended. The headache was getting worse, making it difficult to keep my inner four-year-old contained. “What would have happened if I hadn’t caught you? I had no phone to even call a friend.”

  That grin returned. “Technically, you didn’t catch me.”

  “You are not cute,” I growled, making the pain worse. “That’s my building ahead. You can make the right on Norton and pull into the back parking lot. That’ll put me closer to my apartment.” He did as asked without comment. “It’s the door straight ahead,” I directed.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, unaffected by my obvious agitation.

  I pulled my keys from my purse. “Thank you.”

  As I climbed out, he said, “Hey.” I glanced back to discover a look of mild concern in his dark eyes. “Don’t forget to ice it.”

  How was I supposed to dislike him when he kept being nice like that?

  “I won’t.”

  I crossed the short distance to the building, not realizing until I’d pulled the heavy door open that the Buick hadn’t moved. I turned back and gave a wave, receiving a head nod of acknowledgment in return before the car drove off.

  Lingering inside the door, I pulled up the app and left a hefty tip, as well as a five-star rating. Despite my annoyance, Jacob had more than earned both, and now maybe he wouldn’t tell his friends about the klutzy woman and her drunk date who’d provided his Tuesday evening entertainment. As I made my way up the stairs to the second floor, my legs felt heavy and my back started to ache. Flexing, I felt a twinge of pain in my right shoulder blade.