Perfectly Ridiculous (17 page)

 15 

Max, J.C., and I sit in awkward silence until the car pulls up to the police station. The vehicle is a black stretch town car of some sort, with international diplomacy plates.

“I thought we were done with the embassy.”

“It's my friend,” Max says without further explanation.

He opens the massive car door and bends in to offer some kind of explanation about J.C. and me. Then he motions for us to get into the vehicle. I help J.C. off the wood porch of the police station and we head to the car, grateful our excursion is finally over for the day.

Max opens the back door and we slide in. “Hi,” I say.

The driver turns toward me. She is gorgeous—petite, dark, and exotic features with a model's high cheekbones and facial structure. Her hands are so tiny and delicate that I feel like a horse sliding in the backseat. Her presence makes me decide that Max's flirtation with me was just that—a flirtation. His feelings never went where mine did, and obviously I was too infatuated to see any of it.

She's still fixated on Max outside the car, and the way she looks at him, as if she's more than thrilled he called her, tells me my romantic views of life can last only so long and then reality must take its place.

Two men. Two gorgeous guys were not in love with me. I only imagined their feelings because mine were so strong. Now I want to go running back to my mommy and Claire, and I promise myself that I will listen to their truth. No matter how difficult it is to hear, it's better than getting my heart broken time and time again.

The petite princess finally acknowledges my presence. The girl lets her wrist dangle over the seat and offers a limp handshake. “Rosalina,” she says. “I assume you're Daisy?” Her English is perfect with only a hint of an accent, which makes her all the more exotic and sexy.

I nod. “This is J.C.”

She reaches her tiny hand to J.C. and greets him equally.

Rather than being a woman with two guys aching for her love—competing for it, in essence—in reality, I am a girl who barely avoided jail, flunked a missionary project needed for college admission, and let down her parents, all in one fell swoop. No one can say I'm not efficient.

“So you are Daisy. The infamous Daisy.”

I nod again. “You know me?” Point, Max's hot chick.

She glances at Max and it's not a kind look. “I've heard about you.”

“So you're going to sit in the back?” Rosalina says as though she is not happy about the situation. “Am I to be your chauffeur?”

“J.C. needs to stretch out his leg. I think he should come up front,” Max says, eyeing me to let J.C. out of the car. “Relax, Rosa.”

“I had to get out of work to pick you all up.”

“We really appreciate it,” I tell her. “Max was so kind to come and get J.C. so there would be no more trouble at the mission, and he got paid back by having his car stolen. It's really awful.”

“I'll bet. How will you work now, Max?” Rosalina asks him. “Can't save for a ring without a job, can you?”

I flinch at her words. Save for a ring? I stare at Max to see his startled expression, but it isn't there. He's as calm as can be. I, however, am about ready to go postal.
You want to answer her, Romeo?
my look asks him.

“I'll figure it out.”

“You'll what?” I ask, but his harsh eyes ask for a favor, and I take the pressure off the situation. “So, how do you two know each other?”

“Max is my boyfriend. Soon to be my fiancé. Or didn't he tell you?” She flips her long, dark hair around and faces me with her deep brown eyes, a look I'm certain would throw daggers if she were capable of a superpower.

“Fiancé? Aren't you two a little young to be thinking of marriage?”

“Our mothers have been thinking of nothing else since we were babies. We were destined for one another. Isn't that right, Max?” Rosalina coos.

Max doesn't answer, and as J.C. slips into the front seat, it occurs to me that while I didn't have the right to date, maybe Max never did either. Only his reasons were far darker than my own. It never occurred to me that I wasn't the problem.

I struggle to find my happy voice, but the first sound is nothing more than a squawk. “Have you two been together long?”

“Since before he left for America, officially, but unofficially, since we were babies. His father made him go, you know, and I thought it was going to be an international battle to get him back. To help his father with that ridiculous hot dog stand in the mall when his mother needed him. When he could have just hired some American idiot. The man knew Max's mother needed him here. I can't stand how selfish that was, but he's back now.” She licks her lips when she glances at Max.

“You speak such good English,” I tell her, trying to avoid my own feelings about Max being forced to come back to Argentina against his will.

“My mother is the American ambassador—that's how she met my father. It's also how I knew where Max was before he called me. I work at the embassy coordinating NGOs. Right now I'm working on an upcoming fair to get more foreign-aid workers into the country. Nongovernmental organizations that help with the country's needs, you understand?”

“Wow, that's impressive,” I say honestly. “Do any of these NGOs have need of some American help for the next week?”

“Because?”

“I have to do some charitable work, preferably in another country, for my scholarship at Pepperdine University, and unfortunately I didn't really mesh with the mission where I was.”

“Because you acted like a spoiled American? Max told me all about the spoiled Americans he dealt with when in your country.”

“Rosalina! Daisy's my friend—haven't you known me to always choose my friends well?” Max asks. “I assure you that she's no spoiled American.”

“I've known you to always choose them pretty, I'll say that much for you. But once we're married, you'll have to tone that down. I can be very jealous, you know.”

“That's so sweet, Rosalina, but wow, I can only wish I were one-tenth as exotic and beautiful as you. Max definitely had to lower his standards in America. I think I have yet to meet someone in this country who couldn't be a movie star in America.” I hope to soften her dislike of me and find myself a ministry quickly that qualifies for Pepperdine without me having to go home and find something mundane and domestic that won't look nearly as impressive on my résumé.

I can see her grin in the rearview mirror, and it's not like I was dishonest, but I'm shocked at how well she takes my compliment. She's actually beaming a smile with her perfect white teeth and her full, naturally red lips.

“I think it's the healthy lifestyle. It's a city lifestyle, but also very close to the earth. We have the best of Europe and Latin America here, and I think it shows in the people.”

“I wouldn't doubt it, it obviously agrees with you all.”

The tension in the car is so thick, it almost makes me wish for the freedom of the side of the road without a vehicle.

“So you never dated Max?” Rosalina asks. “Is that what you're trying to make me believe?”

Max turns and glares at me, as if I was ever tempted to tell Rosalina I dated her future husband. Something tells me she has henchmen lying in wait.

“Max had one pity dance with me at the prom. He was so sweet to do that. I had to work the Breathalyzer machine at the dance—”

“You have a Breathalyzer machine at your high school? The teachers can't tell if a person is drunk or not? Does anyone actually show up that way?”

“It's just a precaution,” I tell her.

“Did you find my future fiancé to be a good dancer?”

“I did.”

The car seems to float in slow motion as we make our way toward the city, and I wish I could beam out of this uncomfortable situation.

“Max, you were telling me the truth?” She stares across the car and flutters her eyelashes, all while following frighteningly close to the car in front of her. “I thought for certain he'd taken an American girl for a spin. We hear a lot about your reputations.”

“Um, car. Car up there,” I say to divert Rosa's attentions from Max to driving. “Won't do us any good to earn a ring if we're not alive to get it, will it?”

“You were saying, American girl?”

It takes everything I have not to retort with some smart-aleck comment about the easy ways of South America, but that will get me nowhere with the mission work, not to mention I don't even know if it's true.

“You can't believe everything you hear, or acknowledge Americans by the garbage Hollywood puts out. I went to a strict Christian school, and we were expected to behave accordingly.”

“That's good to hear. Max can be so charming, you know. I wouldn't blame an American girl for wanting to come back with him and be Argentine. I thought he might want to sow his wild oats while he was there in America.”

“This car ride is actually the first time my parents have approved of me being alone with a boy. Never even had a date, so if you had something to worry about with Max, it certainly wasn't with me.”

She offers Max a warm smile and turns back to the road. “So what hotel are you staying at?”

“In Recoleta, at the Palace Alvear. Is there any way we can make it to the airport before your flight?” I say to J.C.

“Hmmm,” she says. “No way on the airport.” J.C.'s shoulders deflate. “So, rich parents, huh? Recoleta?”

“Not mine. My best friend's rich parents.”

“Where is she? Back at the hotel?”

“She's still at the mission to finish out the week. The woman in charge liked her, but I seemed to set her nerves on edge.”

“Because you're pretty, no doubt.” Rosa's compliment made me uneasy, as if the other shoe would drop soon.

“I'm nothing special in America. Claire is prettier.”

“She isn't!” Both Max and J.C. say this, and for once I wish they hadn't come to my rescue. I feel it as Rosalina punches the gas pedal.

“So about that nongovernmental agency work . . .” I try to change the subject.

“Really, you're considered, I don't know, average in America?”

“Daisy isn't considered average anywhere,” J.C. says. “She put her entire future on the line to do what's right and protect someone who, quite frankly, didn't deserve protecting.” He turns and sets his chin on his good arm over the front seat. “With all I've endured down here, I can't imagine not knowing her now.”

“You seem awfully invested in Daisy. How long have you two known each other?”

“We met three days ago, but I've seen her character in action and I know a good person when I meet one.” He reaches over the seat and grabs my hand. In my peripheral vision I see Max roll his eyes.

“So you're recommending her for a position if I can find one quickly?” Rosalina asks.

“Absolutely I am. My only wish is that I weren't crippled so that I could stay and do the ministry alongside her.”

“How'd that happen?”

“First I got stung by a scorpion. Then I got a pounding for turning in a child abuser.”

“Max, what do you have to say to all this?” Rosalina asks. “Do you want Daisy to stay in the country and get her scholarship requirement?”

Max pauses, and it's obvious he needs to tread carefully, but I'm praying he'll come through for me.

“This whole trip has been surreal.”

Everyone looks at me.

“Did I say that out loud?” I ask.

Rosalina begins to laugh. “Is she for real?”

“She is,” Max says firmly. “One hundred percent genuine.”

“Max?” Rosalina's voice softens. “Does that mean you want her to stay?”

“Of course I want her to stay. Her college career is at stake, and she worked hard for that. I have no doubt she'd get another scholarship, but not like this, and it wouldn't be as good this late in the summer. If it's in your power to offer something to her, I'd say if I mean anything to you, my friend's predicament will mean something to you.”