Boost by Vi Summers
Chapter 12
-Greer-
“Oh my God! Shit, Rox!” I cried, as Roxiee and I hastily removed our stilettos so we could run without breaking multiple ankles.
The instant someone yelled, “Fuck! Cops!” my blood ran cold and fear speared through the pit of my stomach. The thought of being arrested made me breathless with panic.
“Hurry the fuck up, Greer!” Roxiee hissed, already bouncing on the balls of her feet and ready to flee.
With a relieved gasp, my second foot came free of the straps, and I somehow retained enough sense to keep a hold of my designer heels as we took off sprinting down the block.
We’d strategically picked a spot to watch from where we could slip in and out unnoticed, having at least given some sensible thought of leaving quickly if we needed to, but never actually thought we’d have to put that plan into action.
I ran so hard my boobs barely stayed contained within my low-cut dress, and I ignored the fact that the hem was riding so high I felt it gathering under my booty. The pain of the pebbles I ran across went unnoticed, as did the caution of avoiding discarded food wrappings and God knows what else.
Roxiee’s harsh breathing mixed with mine as we sprinted to where Jethro waited for us. My lungs burned, and my legs ached with the sudden need to go from zero-to-sixty without warning.
Out of breath and wide-eyed, we rounded the corner of the block and both let out a relieved cry when our car came into view.
Without waiting for Jethro to open the doors, and before he even noticed we’d arrived, we had one back door swung wide and tumbled into the backseat as a jumbled mess of tangled hair, exposed breasts and dirty feet.
“What the?” The car jerked as Jethro twisted in his seat and peered back at us with a look of complete dismay. “Miss Montgomery? Miss Landon! What in God’s name…?”
“Drive, Jethro, drive! Pedal to the metal!” Roxiee all but shouted.
As calm as he always was, Jethro pulled into the street and waited until we could breathe again before asking questions.
“I knew this was a bad idea, Miss Landon,” he tutted, as if reprimanding his children. “What went down back there? Has this got something to do with all the Police?”
“Please don’t tell Tian,” I begged.
Jethro’s gaze found mine through the rear vision mirror and his voice became stern. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”
“No. No, we’re not,” I assured him—and myself. “That was a little close for comfort, though.”
Much to my dismay, Roxiee broke out laughing. “Well, I guess we can tick running from the cops off our bucket list.”
“Running from the cops was never on my bucket list!”
“Oh, c’mon, sure it was.” She nudged me with a wide, exhilarated smile on her face.
“Roxiee!” My shrill tone made her laugh harder, and I reached over and slapped her arm.
Trying to ignore her amusement, I took stock of the disarray and lifted a leg to inspect the bottom of my foot.
“Oh my God, look how disgusting it is!” My disdain pushed her amusement higher. “There’s no way in hell I’m setting foot in my Louboutins until I scrub my soles raw first.”
My ever-so-faithful assistant fell into a bout of silent and breathless laughter, made infinitely worse each time I huffed or mumbled displeasure under my breath. Even Jethro cracked out a chuckle once the tension in the car eased.
I pointed the toe of one stiletto at Roxiee. “You are a bad influence.”
Her eyes widened, and she pressed a hand to her cleavage. “Me! This was your idea in the first place. Woo, talk about getting the heart pumping!” She giggled again, this time creating my own smile too.
“I guess it was kinda fun, right?” Now that we were out of immediate danger, I was beginning to see the thrilling side of our escapade.
“Girl, you and me gotta go out more often.”
Jethro chimed in. “May I suggest a relaxing restaurant in the safer side of the city?”
My heart swelled from his concern. “I promise we won’t put you through this again, Mr. Pickney.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Miss Landon, because I may be old, but I’m too young to die from heart failure just yet.”
I gave him an affectionate pat on the shoulder, then relaxed against the back of the seat. My eyes drifted out of the window as we wove through the sleeping streets in the early hours of the morning, heading for home.
“Hey,” Roxiee whispered. I rolled my head her way. “Thanks, babe, I needed that.”
I snorted. “You needed to almost get arrested?”
Her mouth twitched. “To live a little.”
My hand found hers and gave a reassuring squeeze. I knew she tried to show that she had it all together—just as I did—but deep down we were both just wading our way through life, trying to not let it become completely overwhelming.
“Anytime, hon. Although, next time I’m down for Jethro’s suggestion.”
Roxiee giggled. “Yeah, I’m down with that too.”
Then it hit me. “Oh my God! Rafael!”
“He would have found a way out. Guys like him always do,” she assured me.
I wasn’t so sure. Yes, he was merely a stranger, but also a client. It was in my best interests to be concerned about his whereabouts—it was, after all, my responsibility to make sure his public image stayed positive. An arrest wouldn’t be a great start to the campaign.
“I hope you’re right.”
“I am,” she sung. “Besides, are you his mom?”
Roxiee made a flippant hand gesture when I snorted. “Exactly! Not your problem right now. And if it becomes your problem in the morning, then you’ll deal with it.”
I gave her hand another squeeze and repeated our mantra. “Not our problem.”
I just hoped come morning it stayed that way.