Trust in Advertising (17 page)

“Go ahead, tell her what an idiot you are while I try and figure out how to fix this,” Vincent snarled.

“We’re using one of the cars from Max in the photo shoot. As a thank you for all that we’ve done for them,” Sean shot Vincent a dirty look, “they said I could go pick it up and drive it over here, and then take it to the shoot. So, I showed up and they handed me the keys to an extremely hot Ferrari Scuderia Spider, a yellow one. It’s amazing, Lexi. The purr of the engine as I went down the highway was … orgasmic.”

Lexi cocked her eyebrow at Vincent while Sean closed his eyes, grinning while he described the car in great detail, down to the yellow stitching on the black leather seats.

“When I got off the highway, where I might have been exceeding the posted speed limit for a very short period of time, I turned onto Ninth. The gas pedal is very sensitive, and I might have given it a bit too much gas as I dialed my cell phone, and I
might
have clipped a street vendor.”

“You hit someone?” Lexi’s hand flew to her mouth in horror.

“No, the guy’s fine. He dove behind a newsstand. But the fake Prada bags and sunglasses went flying when I took out the table. Why couldn’t I have hit the guy selling silk scarves?”

“How badly is the car damaged?” Lexi cringed.

“It’s got a dent about the size of a softball in it.”

“Oh,” Lexi said, “that’s not too bad.”

“Not too bad? It’s a Ferrari worth more that Sean’s life.” Vincent rubbed his hands up and down his face.

“Did you find someone who could fix it?” Lexi looked over at Sean, who shook his head.

“I’ve called everyone I know. No one’s willing to touch a car like this on short notice. What the hell are we going to do?”

“We?
We
aren’t going to do anything, Sean.
You
are the one up Shit Creek.

I’m simply standing on the shore watching your corpse float past.”

“I might be able to help you,” Lexi said. The two men continued arguing, and as their voices grew louder, so did Lexi’s. “I said I might be able to help you!”

96

Trust in Advertising

“How?” Vincent asked suspiciously. “Happen to have another Ferrari in your purse?”

Lexi shot him a dirty look as she picked up the phone and called the one person she knew who might be able to pull this off.

“Hey, it’s me. I need a favor—a huge favor. I have a Ferrari Scuderia with a card table-induced dent that I need fixed. No … yeah … I have no idea. Someone I work with did it. I assure you it was an accident. No, he isn’t. Listen, if I bring it by, can you fix it? We have a photo shoot in three hours.” Sean leaned over Lexi’s desk, holding his breath as he waited for the answer. When Lexi flashed him a thumbs up, he began dancing around the room. “Fantastic. We’ll be right there.”

Sean scooped Lexi into his arms and swung her around the room. “Vincent doesn’t deserve someone as awesome as you. Run away with me and be my assistant, please?”

“Put me down. We have to get that car to the garage now or we’re screwed.

And make sure you bring your checkbook. This one’s gonna cost you.” Lexi whacked Sean on the chest, and he gently placed her on the floor.

“Let’s get out of here. Where are you and I speeding off to?”

“Oh no you don’t.” Vincent grabbed Sean’s keys from his hand and waited for Lexi to get her purse before the three of them headed for the elevator. “Don’t tell him anything,” he said to Lexi. Then he turned to Sean. “She’s coming with me, and you can follow us. I don’t need you doing a hundred-and-twenty-five miles an hour to get there faster and hitting something else.”

“Come on, man,” Sean whined, but Vincent just gave him a droll stare as he leaned against the wall of the elevator. “Fine,” Sean pouted. “Take my truck.

It’s just up the street from the Ferrari, around the west entrance.”

When they made it downstairs, Lexi’s mouth fell open at the sight of the gorgeous car parked in front of the building. The yellow paint glistened in the sunlight. A crowd of people had gathered around and were taking pictures of each other beside the vehicle.

“Move it, people. Everyone step away from the car.” Sean pushed his way through the crowd to the driver’s side door.

Lexi went to the front of the car and took out her BlackBerry to snap a picture of the damage.

“What are you doing?” Vincent asked, suddenly right beside her.

“They wanted a picture so they could start getting things ready since we need this done fast.”

97

Victoria Michaels

“Let’s get this show on the road!” Sean yelled from the convertible, tapping his hands on the steering wheel impatiently.

“This way.” Vincent slipped his hand onto the small of Lexi’s back as he led her to Sean’s enormous black Escalade that was parked down the street. He opened the passenger’s side door for her and offered her his hand as she climbed up into the truck.

Lexi sent the picture over to Hope at the garage with a note that they were leaving. Hope was excited to get her hands on the Ferrari, and of course was one hundred percent certain she could fix it.

“Where am I going?” Vincent asked as he started the SUV.

“The garage is called Crowbar. Do you know where it is?”

“No, but I see ads for that place all the time.”

Lexi bit her lip to hide her grin. “Get on the highway and get off at Jefferson.”

Vincent sped down the street with Sean hot on his heels. He was very quiet as he drove, the only sound being the occasional tapping of his fingers on the steering wheel. The awkward silence lasted until Lexi finally broke it with a few more directions, then they safely arrived at Crowbar.

“Lexi, baby, what’s shakin’?” a large burly man with colorful tattoos down both arms greeted her as she stepped out of the truck with Vincent.

“Not much. I brought you a little present, Marco.” She waved her hand toward the Ferrari. “Do you like it?”

“Except for the giant dent in it, hell yeah. You’re too good to me.”

Lexi rolled her eyes and jerked her thumb in Sean’s direction. “Get the keys from him.”

Sean reluctantly handed them over after reminding Marco to be careful.

Then he stalked through the door of the shop with Lexi and Vincent right behind him. For some reason, Sean had a sudden surge of testosterone and went all macho man. Lexi knew exactly why.

“Let me handle it from here,” Sean said as he held up a silencing hand to Lexi and Vincent.

Inside the modest showroom, Hope stood behind the desk, studying a driver’s manual and looking as gorgeous as ever. Her long black hair draped over her shoulders, and stray pieces fell around her face. The white tank top she wore peeked out from under her unzipped overalls, contrasting with her deeply tanned skin. She tapped her painted nails on the desk while she concentrated on 98

Trust in Advertising

the book. Lexi’s mouth hung open as Sean strutted up to the desk like a proud peacock and leaned onto it with one elbow.

“Hello, gorgeous,” he purred. “I’m Sean. Sean Adler.”

Lexi stopped dead in her tracks when Hope’s head snapped up. Vincent noticed and paused beside her. “What’s wrong?”

When Hope’s eyes narrowed into slits, Lexi shook her head and laughed.

She knew what was coming next, so she leaned over to Vincent and whispered,

“Just watch this, Sean’s about to make a complete ass of himself.”

“That’s nothing new.” Vincent was not amused.

Instead of introducing herself, Hope tucked a piece of paper into the book she was reading and with a bored expression said, “Can I help you?” She looked Sean up and down, taking in every feature from his striking yet sexy shaved head, to his dimples, to his lean, muscular build. No detail escaped her notice. There was a slight twinkle in her eyes as she glanced over at Lexi, but it immediately vanished when Sean spoke again.

“Yeah, I need to see the owner. He in?”

Dead man walking,
Lexi thought to herself.

“No,
he’s
not in.”

Sean frowned. “Look, I need to talk to the guy in charge then. I just brought in that Ferrari and I need it fixed ASAP.”

“There is no
guy
in charge here today.”

“Okay, sweetie, listen. Can you just get me one of the guys who are going to work on the car? I need to ask him a few questions.”

The patronizing tone of his voice set off every warning alarm in Lexi’s head.

“Oh, crap.”

Vincent’s gaze went from Lexi to the woman behind the counter, then back to Lexi. In that moment, he figured out who Hope was and chuckled.

“He deserves it.”

“You did not just call me sweetie,” Hope snarled, glaring at Sean.

Sean glanced down at his watch. “Honey, I’m behind the eight ball here and running out of time. Is that guy Marco in charge, the one who met us out front? If I could just ask him—”

“My name is Hope, Hope Greyson, and if you call me ‘sweetie,’ ‘honey,’

‘baby,’ or any other condescending term, you won’t be behind that eight ball anymore, pal, because it will be shoved directly up your ass!” She spun on her 99

Victoria Michaels

heel and opened the door to the garage. “Marco, get in here, someone wants to talk to you.”

Sean glanced over his shoulder at Lexi and Vincent and mouthed “What the hell?” at them. Lexi covered her mouth to hide her laugh, and Vincent simply shrugged.

“What you need?” Marco stuck his head in through the door.

“Ask Captain Dipshit.” Hope threw Sean a deadly glare.

“Listen man, I just had a question for someone who knew what the hell they were talking about, and this chick decided to go all psycho on me.” Sean held up his hands in surrender.

Hope’s nostrils flared when Sean referred to her as “this chick.”

Marco glanced at Lexi, who giggled uncontrollably. “Dude, you must have a death wish.” Hope had both hands clenched into fists.

“No, I have a Ferrari out there with a dent that I need fixed fast. If not, my balls are gonna be roasted on a spit. No other shop in town would even touch it, so I just need to know that you can pull this off.” Sean nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“Me? Hell no, I can’t do that repair. I’m the leather guy. I do interiors. You need the best body person in the business for that.”

“Well, is he here?”

“No,
he
isn’t.” Hope stepped within punching distance of Sean.

“Lexi, you better save your boy before he’s hanging on the wall over Hope’s head. Right next to that big buck she helped Al shoot a few years back.”

Lexi decided it was time to put Sean out of his misery. “Sean, I would like you to meet Hope Greyson, my best friend, owner of the Crowbar, and best body person on the West Coast.”

A string of profanities fell out of Sean’s mouth as Hope grinned spitefully at him.

Right on cue, Vincent sprang into action, just to rub salt in Sean’s gaping wound. “Good afternoon, Miss Greyson, I’m Vincent Drake, and I’m grateful that you’re willing to help us out with this. I have every confidence that you’ll be able to fix the car. My friend here will pay whatever you charge without complaint. Again, thank you for your time.” His smooth voice caught Hope’s attention, and her eyes became as wide as saucers when he’d said his name.

Hope glanced over Vincent’s shoulder at Lexi, who barely nodded in acknowledgement that he was, in fact,
the
Vincent Drake. “It’s so nice to meet 100

Trust in Advertising

a man who isn’t a chauvinist pig and knows how to speak to a woman.” Sean started to sputter an apology, but she cut him off. “Let me guess, you’re the dufus who crashed it in the first place?” Sean’s mouth snapped shut. “Give me an hour, and I’ll have that Ferrari as good as new.” Hope turned to Lexi. “Are you going to wait for the car?”

“No, I think we have to get back to the office,” Lexi answered, and Vincent nodded his head in agreement. “Sean will wait, but please don’t hurt him.”

Hope rolled her eyes, zipped up her overalls and whipped her hair up into a high ponytail as she started to walk out the door and into the garage. “Make sure the jackass has his checkbook on him, because this is going to cost him big time.”

When the door was safely shut, Sean fell into a chair and grinned like a fool. “I think I’m in love.”

“I think you’re lucky to be alive. No one has ever talked to Hope like that and lived to tell about it,” Lexi said with a laugh as she patted him on the shoulder.

101

∙ 9 ∙

So, is everyone from Hunter going to be at this swanky party?” Hope asked from her perch on the bed.

“Yep. Why?” Lexi answered from the bathroom.

“Oh, no reason, I was just—” When the door swung open, Hope let out a slow whistle and forgot her question completely. “Girl, you’re a knockout!”

Standing in front of her full-length mirror, Lexi gave a quick spin like she used to do when she was a little girl. She loved to see her dress flare out and move. Hope had spent the entire afternoon helping her get ready for the gala and at the same time preventing Lexi from having a panic attack. As Hope had curled and pinned her hair up, Lexi studied her flashcards, adding last minute guests to the hit list whenever Anna E-mailed more names.

Fifteen minutes before Leigh was due to pick her up, Lexi stood, staring at her reflection in the mirror, hardly recognizing herself. Her white, tea length dress had smal , braided spaghetti straps, a fitted bodice and a flared skirt adorned with iridescent white ribbons that hung down from the waist. The ribbons gave a hint of shimmer as the light reflected off them. Lexi’s porcelain skin glowed against the pearly white fabric while a few of her caramel locks hung down around her face in soft curls. The pale color of the dress also brought out the tiny flecks of blue in her green eyes.

“You really do look like a princess. This was really Marie’s dress?”

Trust in Advertising

Lexi gave Hope a sad smile. “Yep. Harry saved it for me after she died. I found it when I was emptying the attic before I put the house on the market and just couldn’t bear to part with it.” She smoothed the ribbons down the front of the dress. Her nerves had been kept in check for most of the day, but now, as she stuffed her color-coded note cards into her tiny purse, the enormity of what she was about to do became too real. “You sure I look all right?”