Page 61 of Just One Fake Date

“I know I can go around the block,” Tyler said, grinding out the words. “I just don’t see the point.”

Shannyn made a frustrated noise as she tried to open the door. It had locked automatically when he’d started the car. “Can you unlock this door, please?”

“Why? The traffic is going to break in a minute...”

“Please?”

The door locks clicked and Shannyn opened the door. They were in a middle lane and there was a gap beside her. As soon as she flung open the door, though, brakes squealed. Tyler swore as a car squealed to a halt in the right lane, just behind the Porsche. The guy driving the other car had obviously intended to zip around them on the right. He raised his hands in frustration and Shannyn was glad she couldn’t read lips. She waved at him, grabbed her bag and shut the door of Tyler’s car. She heard the window go down.

“Where are you going?” he called after her.

Shannyn pivoted and pointed. “Back there. Are you coming or not?” She named the street, then the guy in the next lane honked as the traffic started to move. She jumped to the curb. She heard Tyler swear again, but she was already running down the sidewalk toward her potential score.

Let it be there.

Let her reach it first.

It was official.Shannyn was the most infuriating woman on the planet. Tyler eased into the right lane as the traffic started to flow—the guy who had almost taken off his passenger door let him in, probably out of pity—and turned right on the first street he could. He turned right again and raced back to the street Shannyn had named. He squealed the tires as he turned the corner, then slowed down. The street was virtually empty.

Except for Shannyn, proudly sitting on a chair placed at the curb.

She was perched on someone’s garbage, as if it was a throne.

She also looked incredibly pleased with herself. Her bag was between her ankles and she was running her hands over the chair that had been put out for the trash as if she’d found the Hope Diamond.

Infuriatingandinexplicable. If she thought she was going to get back in his car after sitting on that filthy chair, she could think again.

Ty parked at the curb beside her and lowered the window.

“I thought you said the car was fast,” she said, all innocence, and Ty bit his tongue.

“You came back for this old piece of junk?”

She looked insulted. “It’s not an old piece of junk.”

“It looks like one to me. Dirty and faded.” He took a breath and grimaced. “Owned by someone who smoked a lot. It’s garbage.”

Shannyn leaned forward, eyes gleaming, and enunciated clearly. “This, Mr. Entitlement, is a score of the highest order. This is a teak mid-century chair of Danish manufacture in perfect condition.” She widened her eyes. “A fabulous vintage find that someone, against all reason, is throwing away.”

“What does that mean?”

She lifted a brow. “That I can have it for free.”

“But you have to carry it away from here to do that.”

She surveyed his car and sighed theatrically. “And you wonder why I think your car is useless.”

“It’s not useless...”

“No, I guess we could tie the chair to the roof.”

The very suggestion incensed Ty. “Are you kidding me?”

Her smile flashed. “Yes, actually, I was. I’ll call someone else to help. If you need to leave, that’s fine.”

She was changing the plans, again.

“But we’ll be late to meet Derek at your house.”

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