Chapter 2
I immediately turned to comfort Serena, making sure she was okay before I unbuckled my seatbelt and got out of the car.
The car behind me was a black Hyundai, its front end dented and pressed tightly against my rear bumper.
The door opened, and a man in a black leather jacket stepped out.
He looked early thirties, hair slicked back with enough gel to blind someone in sunlight, a ruby pendant of questionable authenticity hanging from his neck. His eyes darted around like loose marbles.
He didn't even glance at the damage. He looked straight at me instead.
That stare made my skin crawl. It felt shameless, almost greasy.
"Whoa, sweetheart, my bad, my bad! Zoned out for a sec," he hollered, waddling closer in a cloud of cheap cigarette stink.
I took a step back, raised my phone, ready to snap some pictures.
"So, are we getting the cops involved, or are you gonna settle this right now?" I asked.
Before the man could answer, Celeste catapulted out of my passenger seat.
"Oh man, what a crash," she exclaimed, rushing over to the guy.
She put on a show, pretending to inspect where the cars had bumped, then turned and shouted at me.
"Rebecca, this is gonna cost a ton to fix. But I mean, he clearly didn't do it on purpose, and he seems super nice. Maybe we just talk it out?" she said.
I watched her put on her little act, my face cold and unimpressed.
Not once did she ask if Rebecca was alright.
The leather-jacket guy jumped in right away.
"Yeah, gorgeous, totally my fault. I'm in a rush though. I own it." He pulled out his phone and flashed a Venmo QR code at me.
"But I don't carry cash and, uh, I don't have liability coverage right now. So how about this. We exchange numbers, you send me the shop estimate, and I'll pay. No excuses. I'm in construction. I don't stress over little stuff," he said, puffing himself up.
A construction guy with no liability insurance. The story was insultingly bad.
"I'm not giving you my number. I'm calling the police," I said.
I turned to dial.
Celeste grabbed my wrist.
"Rebecca, seriously? He already said he'll pay," she said. "Calling the cops is such a pain. Then there's paperwork, photos, waiting around. We still have to get Serena to preschool. We're already late."
She kept winking at me like she was saying, "Come on, he's cute, don't be a buzzkill."
"I mean, look at him," she went on. "He looks decent enough. Doesn't seem like a creep. Make a friend. A friend can open doors."
Celeste's voice was shrill and grating.
I pulled my hand away from her.
"If he's your friend, why don't you pay for him?" I shot back.
Celeste was caught off guard, her face instantly souring.
"Wow. I'm literally trying to save you time." she snapped.
Leather Jacket stepped closer, voice sliding into something filthy. "Sweetheart, relax. Giving me your number won't kill you.
"I always heard women who drive Cayennes have taste. Seeing you now, yeah, it tracks."
His hand started drifting toward my shoulder.
I jerked away, pointing straight at the security camera by the intersection.
"Stay away from me. This whole area is recorded. Touch me again and this becomes a very different situation," I warned.
His hand froze midair. Something cold flickered behind his eyes before he plastered on that dopey grin again.
"Alright. No touching. So what do you wanna do?" he said.
"I'm calling the police," I said, firm and unbothered.
I dialed 911 right in front of them.
Celeste stomped around, muttering just loud enough, "Such a stubborn priss. No wonder no man sticks around."
She tried to keep her voice down, but I caught every word.
The cops arrived fast and confirmed he was fully at fault.
Since he didn't have coverage, everything had to start with the mandatory minimum insurance and the rest would require further claims and assessments. A long mess.
By the time everything wrapped, an hour had passed.
After dropping Serena at preschool, Celeste didn't go hit the mall like she usually did. Instead, she stayed glued to my passenger seat like old gum on a sidewalk.
"Rebecca, that guy, Felix Mooreland, I found his Instagram. It's full of luxury cars and fancy watches. He looks legit," Celeste gossiped, scrolling through her phone.
She apparently already had added him.
I ignored her and started the car.
She kept going. "He told me he really admires strong, independent women like you.
"Said he wants to take you to dinner to make up for everything. Rebecca, your husband's been overseas forever. Don't you ever feel like talking to someone else?"
I hit the brakes hard and pulled over to the curb.
Celeste lurched forward, totally caught off guard.
"What the hell are you doing? Are you crazy?" she snapped.
"Get out," I said, my voice icy.
"What?"
"We're not riding together anymore. Get out."
Celeste stared at me, stunned, like she never expected I'd actually cut her loose.
"Rebecca, what's your deal? I was just trying to introduce you to some connections, and you don't even appreciate it. Now you're kicking me out of your car? You think you're all that just because you drive a crappy Porsche?" she snapped.
I turned my head and locked eyes with her.