Текст книги "Her Accidental Husband"
Автор книги: Ashlee Mallory
сообщить о нарушении
Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 16 страниц)
Chapter Seven
With Cruz at the wheel, Payton went to work syncing his phone’s Bluetooth to the car’s radio. She stared at the phone, waiting as it tried to find a connection.
Four hours. They were still four hours from Puerto Vallarta, and if she didn’t have some recognizable music soon, she was going to go insane. Well, that or be forced to start singing “99 bottles of beer.” Maybe even the song about finding a peanut.
Cruz would be the one ready to go insane. But that would only serve him right for the little stunt he tried before. Although, now that she’d had some time to nurse her wounds, she was willing to put it behind her. This deal was important to Cruz. To his family. And he at least came clean.
It also had made her face a few things about herself. About her feelings toward Brad.
Finally, the connection took, and she went to the “music for the road” playlist she’d put together.
Hmm. This really is an art. Choosing the right stuff. Which one to lead with…
She spotted a title and smiled.
The speakers shuddered for a moment as she turned the music up and then AC/DC’s “You Shook Me All Night Long” blared out.
She looked over at Cruz, waiting for a reaction.
He gave her a sideways glance. And smiled. “Okay. I’ll give you that one. Solid choice. But if I hear any country, it’s going off.”
“Hey. There’s nothing wrong with country music, buddy. The old clichés of drunk assholes bemoaning the loss of their wives and dead dogs is not even close to true.”
He guffawed.
Is that a challenge?
She brought up the music store on his cell phone and typed in the next musical choice. This was too much fun.
When the AC/DC song was over, Brad Paisley’s twangy “I’m Gonna Miss You” streamed next. She hadn’t been able to resist but already had another song waiting to follow it up.
“I’m going to be sure to send you my phone bill from this little trip of ours.”
“Every dollar will be worth it,” she said smugly and watched as he rolled his eyes as Brad sang about a man choosing fishing over his wife. But there was still the tiniest of smiles.
“Which actually reminds me,” he said, clearing his throat and turning the music down to a more manageable level. “Kate called earlier to check in on you. She mentioned that your mother reached her. Seems pretty determined to speak with you.”
“I’ll just bet she is.” Payton was reminded once again why she’d chucked her phone, and any lingering regret flew away.
“You okay?” he asked, a note of concern in his voice from her continuing silence. She noticed his tanned fingers gripping the steering wheel. Concern for her?
She took a breath and tossed her head back, this time smiling a full sincere smile. “I am. Really. And if my mother knew what was good for her she’d book herself into a spa somewhere for one of her bi-monthly serenity checks.” Something her mother did anytime Payton resisted her attempts to control her life. “Thank you, though. For your concern.”
“Oh. And Kate also wanted you to know that she’s really looking forward to your girls’ night out but we’re not to kill ourselves trying to get to the hotel in time.”
At this she laughed outright. “Did she actually tell you that?”
“Um, something along those lines, I think.”
“You’re almost as bad of a liar as she is. No, Kate thinks my plan is to paint the town red and all that, as I’ve convinced her, but I know my best friend better than anyone and I know that a night in, just the girls, is closer to heaven for her. My real plan is to surprise her later tonight. Not to say I don’t have a few surprises, but they’ll all occur in the safety of her suite.”
“It’s good to see it’s not only me that you like to torture.”
“Nope,” she fluttered her eyes at him. “It’s not just you. But you do bring new challenges to my endeavors.”
He laughed out loud at that and turned his attention back to the road. His shoulders relaxed, his shades on. Payton tried to resist staring at him. It was difficult to remember why she didn’t want him turning to her and leaning across the way, placing a kiss on her lips, feeling his breath on her, his fingers in her hair, maybe lower…
“Tell me about you and Kate. How did you two meet?”
Damn. Shifting gears…
“From what I know about Kate, I can’t imagine you two were playing in the same social circles. Didn’t you go to some ridiculously expensive private school?”
“Not by choice, but yes.” Any place would have been better than one filled with stuck-up snots high on their own self-importance. Snots who’d been her friends—or what she knew of friendship up to that point. Until she met Kate. “Kate transferred in sixth grade.”
He threw her a dubious look. “Kate attended your uppity school?”
“You might have noticed that my best friend is very driven. Brilliant. Hardworking.” Something that Payton had always admired. And the way Kate stood up for herself and anyone else she cared about. “She was awarded one of the few financial scholarships the school handed out every year, something I count my blessings for every day. I can’t imagine what my life would be like if Kate hadn’t come into it.”
A Sheryl Crow song came on but she was barely paying attention as she remembered that day seventeen years ago. She smiled. “You should have seen Kate then. She took herself so seriously—kind of like you. Always had an answer to every question asked, and it wasn’t hard for her to earn a few haters among the other kids. Kids who were ruthless in their taunting, mostly about things like her Payless shoes, since the uniforms eliminated the possibility of much teasing on that score. She had no reason to like any of us.”
“What about you?”
“Me? I wasn’t anywhere as smart as Kate, but I did okay. Academically and socially, since I was able to stay up on the latest fashions, thanks to Emily Vaughn, who actually hired me my own personal stylist. Don’t ask.
“Anyhow, it was probably just a month after she’d transferred. Poor little old me, with my big first world worries, was crying in the bathroom because I’d heard Heather Little bragging about kissing the boy who was supposedly my boyfriend at the dance the Saturday before. Not important in the big scheme of things and, like I said, Kate had no reason to be nice to any of us. But all the same, it was Kate who found me and who tried to comfort me.”
“Yeah. Sounds like her.”
The soft admiration in his tone gave her the oddest twinge of what could only be described as jealousy. Kate was wonderful. But could Cruz ever see her, Payton, in the same light?
“Kate not only got the tears stopped, but after she told me she’d seen Rob just that morning with a cold sore the size of Mount St. Helens on his upper lip and that Heather may soon have more than a story to share about her special night, I almost bust my gut laughing. And just like that I went from sobbing to laughing on what had felt like, moments before, the worst day of my life.”
“Don’t leave me hanging.”
She looked at him in confusion and he smiled, giving her that squishy feeling again in her belly. Thank goodness she couldn’t see his eyes through those lenses or she might have actually purred.
“Heather’s lip?” he asked in clarification.
She smiled. “It swelled to the size of a small apricot. Kate and I have been best friends ever since. She’s my family. And right now, I’m about all she’s got in this world, which is why it’s so important that I be there at her side on the biggest day of her life.”
“You’ll be there. No worries. And I’m betting right now, with my sisters’, mom’s, and all the aunts’ attention, she’s having second thoughts about having any more family.”
“Not possible. This is everything she’s ever wanted. And I couldn’t be happier for her—” Her voice broke off unexpectedly and she felt tears well in her eyes. She was happy. But all of a sudden, seeing Kate about to be welcomed into this large unknown family, she felt a little lonely. Would Kate still need her as much?
Cruz’s heavy hand settled on her shoulder. So solid. Warm. It felt like he was sending electromagnetic waves through her body. She willed herself not to lean her head against it. “You’re a good friend, Payton. You have every right to feel a little sad that things are changing.”
She wiped a tear away, already done with it. “I am happy for her. Really. Just a little sorry for me is all. What if she doesn’t—doesn’t need me anymore?”
“Never gonna happen. You’re pretty irreplaceable.”
She cracked a grin even as her ovaries squeezed at the raspy way his voice had dropped. “Are you saying that as a compliment?”
“Take it as you will,” he said and smiled back. Something she definitely liked on him, even if it turned her into Ms. Crazypants.
The beginning strain of “I Like Big Butts” flooded the cab and she laughed at Cruz’s pained expression.
She was going to have to work on getting him to smile a lot more often. It really worked for him.
The view outside the passenger window had been spectacular as the freeway curved and looped up and down once they’d began the westward trek away from Guadalajara, and Cruz was glad he’d given in and let Payton have a turn at the wheel again. It was nice to sit back and enjoy things without having to be in control.
The rising hills had begun to space themselves apart, and he could see the bluish tinge of the rows upon rows of agave in the fields nestled between them.
They’d passed most of the past few hours in a comfortable silence. Just enjoying the view or deep in their own thoughts. Payton hummed almost absentmindedly to the latest tune, something that sounded an awful lot like country music and yet…he didn’t totally hate it.
Just like he was finding that after all this time, he didn’t totally hate Payton either. In fact, maybe he never had. It had been easier to fight the unsettling attraction he’d felt for her since he first saw her by almost demonizing her, assuming she was as shallow and selfish as she was pretty.
But now he had another image in his mind. An image of two twelve-year-old girls becoming fast friends and giggling in the school restroom. Of an overbearing mother who tried to mold her daughter into who she thought the girl should be and the girl who, despite that, went off to college and studied things as gauche as environmental and earth science. Payton was a secret tree hugger. At that thought, he smiled.
She was definitely not what he had expected.
“How much longer until we make it to Puerto Vallarta?” Payton asked, pulling him from his thoughts.
He glanced at his watch. Just after three. “We should be there in about three and a half hours. Which is actually something of a relief. The last couple of hours of driving can be pretty treacherous. It’s a two-lane highway that winds through the mountains, and I wouldn’t want to experience that without daylight.”
She didn’t say anything for a moment, just staring ahead at the view of the sun on the fields outside. “It really is beautiful here. I could almost forget everything that’s waiting for me back home,” Payton said, her tone wistful. “I’m going to have to come down here again and really explore the area when I’m not rushed for time.”
Hearing the sadness in her tone at returning home, the place where she should be happy, rankled. Not sure of her reception to his question, he started cautiously. “I have a pretty good idea what it must have been like growing up with your mother.”
“Ha! You don’t even know the half of it.” But she was still smiling.
“I can only imagine. You never really mention anything about your father, though. Where does he fit into everything?”
“My father doesn’t fit in anywhere. Not in my life.” The brightness and warmth had left her voice as she looked ahead at the road. “His life is his business. Vaughn Communication is first and foremost in his life. His mistress of the month is a close second, and then somewhere after that is my mother and then me. I’m frankly surprised he even managed to pencil my wedding into his busy life.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.” Cruz’s own father might no be as ebullient and openly demonstrative with his emotions as his mom, but he loved his children in a more quiet, subdued way.
“I assure you it is. At my sweet sixteen party—a party I hadn’t wanted, by the way, but Emily Vaughn saw it as a necessity for any young woman coming of age—he was supposed to lead me in the first dance. It was all arranged, what song the band would play and I’d even been practicing with Kate so I wouldn’t be a total spaz in front of him. Then he had a last minute trip to San Diego that couldn’t be rearranged. I danced with my Uncle Walter instead. It was pretty humiliating, even if I was only half surprised.”
He didn’t know much about a world where sixteen-year-old girls had large parties with bands, but he did know something of teenage girls—having lived with two sisters. As much as they might pretend they didn’t care, these things were important. It obviously left a lasting impression on Payton.
“So what is it I’m seeing planted out in the fields?” she asked, clearly ready for a change in topics.
“Agave plants. Or what you might know better as the fruit that will soon become tequila consumed across the world.”
She shuddered.
“What, you’re not a fan?”
“Only if you have limes—lots of limes—and a beer to chase it down.”
“Don’t say that around my mom. She’ll brand you a heretic. Out here, tequila is an experience, almost a religion.” At New Year’s his mother usually brought the good stuff out and passed it around so they could all toast to prosperity in the coming year.
“Let’s just say that six shots followed by a soak in a hot tub was not my brightest choice in college.”
She turned a devilish grin his way, her hair blowing in the wind from her open window. It put an image in his mind of a younger but just as mischievous Payton Vaughn drinking shots in a bikini. A white bikini. She’d have been something to look at. Still was. “No. Probably not,” he said, savoring the image.
“How about you? You haven’t said where you went to college.”
Definitely not as scintillating of a conversation, but probably safer. “Not much to say. I worked with my dad out at the construction sites through high school until I was in my early twenties. By then I was more aware of the many opportunities that were ours to take, but we didn’t have the wherewithal as how to do it. Don’t get me wrong. My dad’s a pretty sharp guy. But his goal had always been supporting our family, providing food and clothing, splurging on the occasional family trips. We grew up the better for it, but at the same time, a lot of prestigious and lucrative jobs passed us by. Something I wanted to change. So I went to community college and after I had enough credits, transferred to the U. Eventually got in to the business program there. The rest you already know.”
“Driven. Dedicated. Got it. But what did you do for fun? Did you go to any parties? Hang out with a bunch of kids and just goof off? Live a little? I mean, you’re only young once.”
“I had responsibilities to the company. My family. My dad.”
She looked over at him with something akin to sympathy. “That’s admirable. But also…a little sad. As obsessed and hard working as Kate was, I always managed to get her to take a break every once in a while. Go to a few parties, head south for spring break.”
“I kept my eyes on the prize. Partying wasn’t going to get me what I wanted.”
“Which was?”
“Success.” He stared at the rows of agave plants as they passed. “You wouldn’t really understand.”
“What do you mean?”
He pulled his fingers through his hair, uncomfortable even mentioning this. It was the past. He made the future. But there were things that maybe he could help Payton understand. “You are wealthy, pretty, and…white. People didn’t look at your skin color and think that you were destined for nothing more than cutting their lawn or cleaning houses. When we were little, I saw the looks people gave us, especially when we were out with our mom, and they weren’t respectful.”
He remembered hearing a couple of ladies once mock his beautiful mother, who with her halting English accent, was clearly not originally from the States. They looked at them all with barely disguised contempt. “They’d watch us carefully in the grocery store line, waiting to see if we pulled out food stamps or tried to pocket a candy bar—anything they could use to judge us.” Things had improved, of course, as things gradually did over time. But there were still a few people with preconceived ideas of who he was, what he was capable of doing.
Making him all the more determined to prove them wrong.
“I’m sorry, Cruz.” She hesitated and snuck another look at him. “Did this play any part in that story you mentioned? Of not being in love since you were seventeen?”
He rested his head back on the headrest and sighed. “Something like that. It’s not anything to make a movie out of. I was just a stupid-ass kid who thought that the pretty girl I was dating was my one and only true love.” He snorted for added measure at that naiveté. “At least until the new hotshot rich kid pulled up in his shiny sports car. A car he gave her the full tour of the night of the spring formal a week later. Something that wouldn’t have been so bad had she not arrived with me.”
She grimaced. “Ouch.” She turned and looked him over. “Who was he? Brad Pitt?” she asked.
“Interestingly enough, it was your former fiancé.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You’re playing me.”
“Wish I was.”
“What happened? I mean, clearly he and this ex-girlfriend of yours didn’t ride off into the sunset together.”
“Not even close. Rumor was he was seeing some other girl not less than a week later. Someone reportedly linked to the Dutch royal family.”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s actually correct. I remember her. She was horrible. But then again, so was Brad back then. I was about twelve, maybe thirteen, and I couldn’t understand what every girl was going on about. His head and ego were bigger than the Goodyear Blimp. He used to call Kate carrot-top—which she hated—and me her highness—which I really hated.”
“And yet you agreed to marry him.”
“Yeah, well. I won’t make that mistake again.” Her green eyes met his, and she tried to give him a reassuring smile, those dimples almost smacking him in the face.
The blaring of a horn brought both of their gazes back to the road.
Just as a yellow school bus headed straight for them.
Chapter Eight
Payton was already jerking the steering wheel to the right to avoid the bus that had careened across the lines of the two-way road and entered their lane when Cruz grabbed it and yanked it harder. She slammed on the brake and held her breath as time slowed down.
She waited for the sound of crashing metal and shattering glass. But the only noise was the screeching of brakes followed by a loud crack that came from somewhere under the car. Then the car was still, even if her heart was hammering away. The acrid smell of burning rubber was in the air and a glance in the rearview mirror showed a long smudge of tire tracks on the road’s surface.
Slowly she turned to Cruz, whose hands were still resting on the dash in front of him, as if he’d been bracing for the worst.
“What the hell were they thinking?” he said and turned to face her. “You okay?”
She nodded. “Think so. But my heart may have stopped beating for a minute there.”
Someone was pounding outside on her window and she jumped. Her heart raced back up as she dreaded what she might find outside the car. Maybe some angry driver who was ready to ream her for her careless driving. Even if, at this point, she was pretty certain she hadn’t been at fault.
But the face of an older man, with white tufts of hair standing straight out above his ears, perspiration beading down the smooth top of his head, and wide blue eyes staring back at her on the other side of the glass, looked worried. Not angry. She exhaled in relief.
Cruz stepped out of the car and greeted the guy as she took some breaths to calm herself. From the rear view mirror she could see a whole busload—literally—of people climbing out into the street and heading in their direction. Steeling herself, she unbuckled her seatbelt and, on shaking legs, climbed out of the car.
“Are you two okay? I can’t believe how close that was,” the old man was saying. “This dog came out of nowhere and before I could think, I jerked the steering wheel to avoid it. Almost took you two out in the process.” The guy rubbed the balding circle at the top of his head.
A woman with short brown hair and a long floral skirt, somewhere possibly in her late fifties, came over and surrounded Payton with her arms and the sweet distinctive scent of Juicy Fruit chewing gum. “We’re just glad y’all weren’t hurt,” she said with a Texan twang. She pulled away and stared hard into Payton’s face, as if looking for some hidden injury. “Are you okay, hon?”
“I think so. Just a little shaken.”
“Appreciate your stopping though,” Cruz said and shook the man’s hand.
“Least I could do. Why don’t you turn the engine? Let’s make sure everything is running okay. Wouldn’t want to leave you two alone by the road here without knowing everything’s in tip-top shape,” the older driver said.
“Good point,” Cruz said and slid into the driver’s side.
“These narrow roads are downright chilling,” the woman said to Payton. “Why, since we left Puerto Vallarta earlier we’ve been scrunched between two semis as we rode through the mountain pass. And even then several cars came up and passed us, despite the traffic still coming from the other side. I’ve been biting my nails since we left.”
Cruz turned the key and a horrible grinding noise started. He tried again but with the same result.
A new fear gripped Payton. What was wrong with their car? It had to be okay. How were they going to get to the dinner tonight? Heck, forget the dinner, what about the wedding tomorrow?
It had to be okay.
Cruz and a couple of the men walked to the front of the car and lifted the hood, tinkering around inside. Fifteen minutes later, there were various diagnostics offered but the conclusion was the same.
The car wasn’t going anywhere.
Panic swept through her as she caught Cruz’s gaze. He seemed to be reassuring her with that dark, confident stare. He nodded. “We just need to get it into a shop. That’s all, Payton. I’ll call someone now.”
“We’re heading into the town of Tequila,” the bus driver said. “It’s only a few miles away. We’d be happy to give you two a ride.” Payton remembered spotting a sign just a few minutes back mentioning the town. “I’m sure you could find a garage there. We’re performing there tonight as part of a celebration one of the distilleries is hosting to kick off the introduction of a new line.”
“That would be much appreciated,” Cruz said and nodded to the group. Looking back to her, he said, “We’ll find a shop in town that can send someone out to get the car. I’ll also call the rental office and see if there are any other options. It’ll work out.”
She did feel better at his assurance. A hand wrapped around her arm. “Payton? That’s an intriguing name. Love it. I’m Bev. My husband, Lenny, you’ve met,” she said, pointing to the semi-balding driver with white tufts of hair. “We’ll make more introductions once we’re off the road. Why don’t you grab your things and we’ll get loaded back onto the bus.”
Infinitely grateful for the couple—even if they were the cause of their current condition—Payton smiled back. A space was cleared behind Bev’s seat near the front of the bus. Another woman introduced as Pat, joined Bev on the seat, and they turned fully around to stare at the newcomers. Cruz snagged the aisle seat, his bulk needing the space to sit comfortably, his arms folded in front of him.
“So where you two from?” Bev asked, looking back and forth between them. Stoic, serious Cruz was back, and Payton sensed he would leave the talking to her.
“We’re from Salt Lake. Ever been there?” Payton chirped.
“Actually, I have. My sister lives in Twin Falls, Idaho, and we’ve traveled through several times. Beautiful city. We’re from Waco, Texas. Been on the road for about a week now. Third year in a row we’ve toured Mexico. It’s beautiful and everyone is so darned friendly. How about yourselves? What brings you two here?”
“Cruz and I are on our way to Puerto Vallarta.” She paused, a crazy but intriguing notion entering her head.
She shouldn’t do it. She really shouldn’t.
But a little devil inside her screamed at her to run with it. Have some fun. It might make this detour a little more interesting. It would be a lie, but it seemed harmless. It wasn’t like they were ever going to see these people again after they reached Tequila.
And the bonus was seeing how Cruz would react.
“We’re getting married, isn’t that right, sweetie?” She turned to him, smiling as he slowly turned to stare at her like she’d sprouted snakes from her head. His arms remained folded across his chest, but she noticed his fingers tapping against one arm. Other than that, he remained silent.
She tilted her head to rest on his shoulder and fluttered her eyelids at him for a moment.
Then she saw the oddest thing.
He almost smiled.
Cruz could not believe the gall of the woman. Lying. Plain as day. And looking like the devil as she played to the crowd. But he knew her well. He knew that this game was targeted at him.
She was playing with him.
And Lord help him, it actually gave him the slightest thrill. There was a sense of familiarity returning to their usual roles of antagonists rather than their new friendly truce. But it was a little different. Almost…flirty.
“Last week we were at a hockey game—we just adore hockey,” she added, he was sure, for his benefit. “Well, right there in the middle of the game, Cruz turned to me and before I knew it, he was sliding down on one knee and holding a box in front of him. I almost fainted dead away, right then.”
The occupants on the bus were all riveted and he heard oohs and ahs escape from a few of the women as Payton warmed to her story. “And then, what do you know, he pointed to the big screen in the center of the whole place and there were the words flashing across the screen. ‘Payton, will you marry me.’ And the crowd almost collectively held their breath, waiting for my response. I just looked into Cruz’s eyes, so dark. Hypnotic. Filled with love,” she smiled back up at him, a mischievous sparkle in those green, glimmering eyes. “And I knew he was the only one for me. Well, of course I cried yes and he pulled me into one of those swoony lip locks that had the whole place going crazy.”
The women were beaming, looking like they might eat them both up, they were that adorable. He managed not to roll his eyes.
“That is the cutest story I ever heard,” Bev said, actually looking a little misty-eyed. “So why did you two decide to come down here?”
The questions weren’t even posed to him anymore, not that he’d know how to respond. It was her lie, not his.
Payton didn’t hesitate a beat. “Cruz has some family down here and we thought, why not make a trip of it? Surprise them. Then our flight almost crashed near Laredo and with spring break upon us, the only way we could get out to Mexico was by car. And Cruz was such a sweetie, assuring me that driving here, just the two of us, would be a wonderful adventure we could tell our kids about in the years to come. Believe me. It has been that. And this latest detour will certainly be something to remember.”
This time the gazes returned to him. He shrugged his shoulders, resigned to their new facade of soon to be newlyweds. Fortunately, no one minded his stoic silence and the next few minutes passed as the women regaled them with stories of their own nuptials.
Glancing around the bus, he was certain none of the occupants—save for him and Payton—were under age fifty. All of them seemed to be part of a couple. The men, like him, sat mostly silent as the women shared, looking like they’d heard the stories many times before.
A few minutes later, they reached the little town of Tequila, which wasn’t the quiet, peaceful town he’d been hoping for. Instead, it was teeming with tourists in jeans and shorts walking in the same direction they were headed. He prayed there was a garage still open and he could persevere in getting the car fixed that evening.
“It should be somewhere down this way, if I remember right,” Lenny said. Sure enough, a moment later, several stacked tires near the front of a garage told them they’d arrived. In the lingering late afternoon sunlight, the facade looked muted, almost vintage. And open, if the sign in the window was any indication.
Lenny parked the bus in front and turned around to address Cruz. “Why don’t you go see what they can do for you? With the festival, they might be closing shop early. We’ll stick around. Your fiancée’s welcome to wait here.”
“I’ll just be a moment,” he said to Payton, who nodded and waved him off as a couple of the older ladies continued to bend her ear, already enchanted with their new guest. Something he could relate to.
Ten minutes later, Cruz was back on the bus. Payton’s smile looked a little more strained. “He’s going to tow it now. He won’t know more until it’s back. But…” He took a seat next to her, watching her eyes widen in uncertainty. She wasn’t going to like this. “…By the time he gets it back here and can take a look, even assuming it is an easy fix, it’s going to be pushing sunset. And this next stretch of road? We’re going to want all the light we can get. It’s pretty dangerous.”
“You’re saying we’re not going to make it into Puerto Vallarta tonight, aren’t you?” Her voice was remarkably calm, but he could see by the way her hands squeezed tight together she was stressed.
“Yeah. I’m afraid so. Which means, we’re going to need to find somewhere to stay for the night.” He chose not to add that the prospects weren’t very promising based on their timing in the middle of the festivities.
“I think we have just the place for you, if you’re interested,” Lenny said after conferring with his wife for a minute. “Glen and Mags had to bow out of the tour at the last minute on account of Mags breaking her hip. But their room is already paid for and there’s no sense in letting it go to waste. Especially since we’re likely the reason for your current predicament.”