Early
in the morning, the representative from the car rental company,
arrives at the hotel. Her name is Jasmine Bond, and she agrees to
have breakfast with Oscar.
They
chatted politely for the duration of their meal. Oscar liked the
snappy attitude of Jasmine Bond. She was smart and sassy, two traits
he greatly admired in a woman.
"When
you're ready, I'll lead you over to the office."
"That
would be great. I have to run up to the room and grab my stuff.
You're cool with about twenty minutes?"
"Not
a problem, Mr. Friedman."
"Oscar."
"Oscar,"
she repeated, blushing slightly. "I'll wait for you down here."
He
headed up to his room and she made a call to her boss.
"What's
the scoop with Friedman?" He asked her moments after saying
hello.
"He's
a nice guy, Don. Genuinely so. I can't imagine he's involved in
anything weird. He's an author here on a tour. I'm bringing him by
the office in a few minutes."
"Great,"
but the older man didn't sound enthusiastic at all. "Bring him
by and we'll see what we can do. All I need is for some out-of-town
author to give us a bad rep. Who knows who he'll tell! You try and
sweet talk him when he's here."
"I'll
do my best, Don. He's coming off the elevator now."
"You
know what I want from you?"
"Yes,
Don. I'm on it." She hung up and waited with a smile while Oscar
made his way to her across the lobby.
He
was carrying a box of books under one arm and had a laptop on his
shoulder. He had changed into tan brushed corduroy pants and jacket
with a plaid shirt and coordinating tie. He looked more like an
author in her eyes than he had before. His cheeks were smooth and he
smelled like shaving cream.
"All
set?"
"Yeah.
I appreciate your help."
"Doing
my job, Oscar." She walked him to his car, fanning herself in
the humidity. "I'll pull around and wait for you. I'm parked
over there." She pointed to the other side of the lot. By the
time you get your stuff stowed, I'll be here."
"Okay.
Thanks."
Jasmine
Bond led Oscar to the car rental place. Her boss, Don Hickman, came
out the greet them.
"What
can I do for you, Mr. Friedman?"
Oscar
told him the problem with the car. The agent inspected the vehicle,
but aside from the smudge on the hood, there was nothing to show what
it had been through. By the time he had finished, they were on a
first name basis.
"I'd
really like a different car, Don. I don't think this hybrid is me."
"I
don't have anything else available, Oscar. The other cars are all out
for the weekend. I won't have anything coming in for at least three
days."
"You
mean I'm stuck with this hunk of junk?" Oscar wanted to beat the
car until it begged for mercy.
"It's
not junk, Oscar. It's a well crafted machine."
"It's
crap, Don! I venture to say that the car is a lemon. Probably getting
struck by lightning is the most fortuitous thing that could have
happened to it. This car defines insanity. I don't need this in my
life, Don. I really don't."
"Oscar,
I'd like to help you, but I can't do it. I might have something come
in this afternoon, but the client said he may need the car a couple
more days. I make no promises."
"Meanwhile,
I'm stuck. Are there any branch offices in town?"
"I
already checked. They're booked solid. I even called our competition.
You picked a busy weekend."
Oscar
looked at the sooty white Prius with disgust. "Okay. I guess I'm
stuck with you," he said to the car. "Be gentle with me."
Don
gave him a funny look while Jasmine laughed behind her hand. Oscar
appealed to her helplessly. "Help me feed the address into the
GPS? That would be a big help."
"That
I can do." She loaded the information for him. "Call me if
you need anything. I'll be happy to do what I can."
"Thanks,
Jasmine. You've been wonderful."
"Not
that it helped much, but you're welcome. I'll call you later and
check up on you, okay?"
"Thanks."
He shook her hand, wanting to kiss her instead. Resisting the
impulse, he got in the car and drove off.
The
drive to his first venue didn't go well. Each time he thought he was
going the right way, the GPS reset, giving him the verbal message
"Calculating route." With each recalculation, it seemed the
neutral, female voice held more of a reprimand.
"I
turned where you told me," he said aloud. Feeling rather
foolish, he found his way back to the road and tried again, making
another wrong turn. "This can't be right. I just went that
direction and you told me to get back on this road. What's going on?"
©
2018 Dellani Oakes
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