Page 9 of Sack

Excited because it was one she’d been dying to see since its release the week before, she started the car, put it in reverse, and backed out of the spot. A loud crunch filled her ears at the same time a jolt forced her upper body forward, her seatbelt tightening across her chest. She slammed on the breaks, her line of sight flying to the rearview mirror.

Jason’s voice was loud in her ear, but she didn’t pay attention to what he said as she stared at the car she’d just hit and the man stepping out of it.

Well, poodoo!

Chapter Three

Colt

“Son of a…” Colt struck the steering wheel with the heel of his hand. Throwing open his car door, he stepped out and assessed the damage. The car that hit him was now one with his left rear fender.

Fucking perfect.

Both car doors opened, and the occupants got out. Colt recognized them instantly. The non-paparazzo woman and her boyfriend.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Shut up, Ivy. Don’t admit to anything.”

Colt raised his brows at the guy. “You can’t possibly think this is my fault.”

The pink-haired, gray-eyed beauty made her way to the back of her car. “I can’t believe I did so much damage. I was barely moving.”

“Ivy—”

Colt glared, and the guy locked his jaw before he could tell Ivy to shut up again.

“Don’t worry, I have insurance.” She was bent at the waist, inspecting the damage.

He forced himself to concentrate on the pink knot atop her head and not the perfect view of her ass. It also helped to focus on how irritated he was. He wasn’t worried about the insurance—he was covered for uninsured motorists. His main issue was the inconvenience of the whole damn thing—dealing with the adjuster, taking the car in, being stuck with a rental until it was fixed.

She righted herself and reached into her back pocket, pulling out her phone and flipping it over to open a compartment in the case. “Here’s my card.”

He took it from her fingers, noticing her neatly trimmed nails were painted a sparkly dark blue. How he had missed that before while they were playing tug-of-war over her camera was anyone’s guess.

He examined the business card. A bright, rainbow-colored capital I and V filled a large area of the white cardstock with the word Technologies in cursive font scrawled beside it. Under that was the taglineGet Your Business Noticed. On the reverse side was a list of services from web design to multi-media marketing.

“My name and phone number are at the bottom.”

Ivy Clark. I V. A play on her name. Clever.

He looked up. “You’re a media consultant?”

The pink ball on top of her head bobbed. “Yeah, and graphic designer.”

Well, that explained… everything. And made him feel like an ass all over again for jumping to the wrong conclusions. He couldn’t afford those feelings. Time for him to go. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll call my insurance and let them know it was my fault.”

He dipped his head. “I appreciate that.”

“I’ll just, um,” she hiked a thumb over her shoulder, “pull forward so you can leave.”

Again, he dipped his head and waited to get in his car until she got into hers.

He made the twelve-minute drive home in silence, letting his thoughts wander. No surprise, they wandered to Ivy. He’d made a bad first impression. He assumed sometime before their second meeting that she’d figured out who he was—her boyfriend had probably told her—and now he made her nervous. He liked her sass better. And her gray eyes. And even her ridiculous pink hair.

He stopped his thoughts in their tracks. Clearly, she was involved with someone and he should be thinking of her as nothing more than the woman who hit his car. His insurance would straighten that out. It wasn’t something he needed to get involved in.

---