Series: The Laws of Opposite Attract Series by Vi Keeland
Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 105253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 526(@200wpm)___ 421(@250wpm)___ 351(@300wpm)
Owen: Meet you in the lobby at 4 AM.
***
“I got one.” Owen waved a Twizzler at me as he drove. We’d been playing a game I’d dubbed Guess Which Buddy, for the last hour. “In fifth grade, we had to do a creative writing project where we made up a story about Santa Claus. One of the guys wrote about Santa leaving Mrs. Claus for a hotter, younger woman, who was secretly a disciple of the Grinch and replaced all the toys he delivered with ugly brown turtleneck sweaters knitted by grandmothers.”
“Oh my God.” I laughed. “That had to be Holden. Only because there’s a hot woman involved.”
Owen smiled. “Nope. That was me. My grandmother knitted me a lot of itchy sweaters. I hated them, but my mother made me wear one whenever we visited. Meanwhile, Holden’s grandmother bought him shit like an electric keyboard and a Nintendo 64.”
I laughed. “You guys must’ve been some crew growing up. I bet the girls went crazy when you walked into places all together.”
“Are you saying you think my friends are hot, Devyn?”
“I’m pretty sure you must know that already. I can’t imagine that any of you struggled to get dates.”
Owen glanced over at me. “I’m sure you didn’t, either.”
I sighed. “I actually didn’t have many boyfriends growing up. My mom brought home so many random men, and they all used her for one thing or another. They’d be around for a few weeks, and then my mom was always sad when they’d disappear without warning. And half the time they left with whatever cash she had in her wallet. So I assumed that’s the way all men were. Made me not very interested.”
He frowned. “Do you still feel like that?”
“No, I’ve been lucky enough to have some good examples of stand-up men in my life. Remember the producer I told you about? The one who guided me toward casting and was my first official client when I went out on my own?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, he’s like family. He’s thirty years older than me and has been married to the same woman since he was nineteen. I’ve learned a lot from him, and not just about the movie industry.”
“Would it be too intrusive if I asked about your dad? Do you have any contact with him?”
I shook my head. “His name is Rick. He took off when my mom told him she was pregnant.”
“So you’ve never met him?”
“I did once. I was maybe seven or eight. My mom and I were in the supermarket. Some guy with a long beard walked up to us and said hello. My mom turned to me and said, very matter-of-factly, ‘Devyn, this is your deadbeat father who doesn’t support you.’ I remember they talked for a minute or two, and then he looked at me, shrugged, and said, ‘Have a good life, kid. Try not to grow up and be like your mother.’ And that was that. My mother never talked about it with me, and I never mentioned it again.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“At least he gave me good advice. I spent the next twenty years trying to be nothing like Vera.”
Owen’s navigation system interrupted, telling us to get off at the next exit for our first truck-mechanic shop. We had thirty-eight places plotted on the paper map he’d marked up. Five miles from the highway, we pulled into shop number one. It was a bit off the beaten path, but the big trucks parked all over required a lot of space, and downtown Boston was expensive.
Owen and I went in together. The guy at the front counter had a cigarette hanging between his lips, and the nearby ashtray was overflowing. He didn’t look up when I said hello.
“Is there any chance you have someone working here named Bo?” I asked.
“Nope. No Bo.”
“Is it possible you might know a truck mechanic with that name?”
The guy raised his head and frowned. “What do I look like? A directory? No, I don’t know no Bo, and there ain’t one who works here. Anything else?”
I sighed. “No. Thank you for your time.”
The guy manning the desk at the second shop was a lot friendlier, but he didn’t know Bo either. By lunchtime, we’d hit sixteen shops, and I was starting to feel like this trip was a big waste of time.
“Don’t get discouraged,” Owen said. “We’ll find them.”
I appreciated his positivity, but he didn’t have a lifetime of experience trying to find Vera. The woman disappeared better than a magician.
We spent the next four hours following the map from stop to stop. A few places weren’t in business anymore, and by three o’clock we only had one left to visit.
We went inside, but I felt defeated before we even spoke to anyone. Owen must’ve sensed it, because he spoke to the guy behind the desk this time, instead of me.