looking less than pleased when he reached her side.
“Just hear me out,” he said, a bit breathless from trying to catch her. “Listen, I’ll drive you where you have to go and tell you my plan. If you’re not interested, at least you’ll have saved on the cost of the subway.”
For a moment, he thought she was going to argue some more. But then she sighed and said, “Fine.”
“Not exactly enthusiastic,” he teased as he led her back toward his car.
“Definitely less than enthusiastic. I told you that your retraction idea was stupid, but you didn’t listen, and now look where I am.”
“Just where are you?”
“A tabloid queen. Disengaged. Unemployed. Rooming with my grandmother. The only reason I’m letting you drive me to the home to get her clothes is that I don’t think things can get any worse.”
Simon felt a stab of sympathy for her.
Oh, he wasn’t going to take the blame for all of Ari’s bad luck, but maybe some of it was his fault.
The tabloid queen part at least.
Well, he’d make it up to her.
He was thrilled she was coming with him because though Ari had been right that his last plan was anything but foolproof, this one was better. It was a plan that would save them both.
He led her to his car. Even opened the door for her.
Rather than looking impressed at his manners, she glared at him.
Convincing Ari to go along with his plan wasn’t going to be easy.
Not easy at all.
WHAT ON EARTH was she doing?
Ari had packed a small—a very small—suitcase for her grandmother, and as Simon drove her home, she’d listened to him extol the virtues of his new plan.
His foolproof plan.
Foolproof?
Ha!
She’d already fallen victim to one of Simon Masterson’s foolproof plans and all it had gotten her was into a worse predicament.
She wasn’t placing the blame for Bubbi moving in on Simon. At least not yet. Maybe down the road she could figure out a way to tie that to him.
He continued to talk about his plan as they drove down Broad Street.
Ari shook her head and was surprised she couldn’t hear the rocks rattle in it. There had to be some clanking around in there, because here she was listening to Simon Masterson again. Simon’s new, improved, insane plan.
Listening to his idea to discredit her good name wasn’t worth the saved subway fare.
“Another study?” she finally asked. “After all the trouble that last study got me into, you want me to voluntarily do another study with your new computer system as the subject? You must think I’m as nutty as you are.”
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