I nod. “He blamed an ‘unknown person’ for driving his car that night.”
“Yeah, the old ‘unknown person’ culprit. Unfortunately, that’s not terribly convincing, given there’s nobody else in the vehicle. What’s shown is you taking his keys and leading him away. If you’re here to tell me it was him after all—”
“It wasn’t him,” I interject. “That’s not what he lied about. He lied when he said he didn’t know the driver. I can’t say why he chose to keep her name out of it, but a woman named Rebecca Bismark took his car without his permission, and after nearly running us down in the driveway, she laughed like it was a big joke and walked away scot-free. I’d lay odds she’s the source of the video, but that part I didn’t witness firsthand.”
Nigel regards me with an unreadable expression. Am I making any headway? I’m not sure, but I’ve got to keep trying.
“What I do know is Vaughn isn’t a risk or a liability. He’s one of the strongest, most reliable people I’ve ever met. The person who released that video wanted to portray him in a false light to hurt him, and if you don’t give him back the job, then she wins. I don’t want her to win, Mr. Cowie. She’s not a nice person.”
He holds his jaw in his hand. “No, I reckon she isn’t.”
“She’s rubbish.”
That earns me a grin. He reaches his arm across the table to shake my hand. “I’m delighted you came to see me, Kendall.”
“Thank you for hearing me out.”
“The pleasure was mine.”
“I, uh, need to tell you I called your office and pretended to be Laney Albright so I could trick your secretary into telling me where you were having lunch today.”
He throws his head back and laughs before getting to his feet. I stand as well. “Brilliant strategy,” he says.
“I’m glad you’re not mad.”
We walk toward the front of the restaurant. He opens the door for me. “As long as no one is hurt, the things we do for love should never be criticized.”
I look down at the sidewalk in an attempt to hide my blush.
“Valet ticket?” he asks me.
“I’m around the corner.”
“Until we meet again, then.”
What does that mean? I hope it’s that he’s changed his mind about Vaughn. “Okay. Enjoy the rest of your day.” I spin, put one foot in front of the other. When I round the block, I let out a breath so big it could probably knock someone over. Thankfully, no one is close enough.
I’m not sure my Hail Mary plan has worked, but I’m pretty positive it didn’t do any further damage.
Rather than head straight home, I drive to Art in Progress to tell Candace I’d like to accept her job offer.
“I’m thrilled,” she says, giving me a hug.
“Me, too. I was worried with all the recent attention that you may have changed your mind.”
“I put very little stock in crap like that. What matters to me is the person who looks me in the eye and is brave enough to tell me her truths. Our students are going to learn a great deal from you.”
“Yes, they will.” I can’t wait to learn from them as well.
“We’ll talk job specifics tomorrow morning. Be here at ten sharp.”
“I can’t wait. Thank you.”
My stomach grumbles as I leave the gallery, so I stop at Pink’s Hot Dogs. The line is a dozen or so people deep, but a hot dog smothered in onions and relish sounds too good to pass up. I eat it in the car with the air conditioning blasting.
I return home midafternoon, noting with a mix of nervousness and joy that Vaughn’s car is parked in his driveway. I hurry into the house to brush my teeth—no girl in her right mind should profess her love to the guy of her dreams with onion breath—and change into my gray V-neck T-shirt dress and washed denim chucks. The outfit says cute but not trying too hard.
“Hey!” Amber catches me before I rush out the front door. She’s wearing a bathing suit. Her sunglasses sit on top of her head. Snowflake rushes past her to say hello.