Time wasn’t on my side. It would take six to eight weeks for my custom Corvette to be delivered to the dealership. However, the dealership had the next best thing: they had a fully loaded model in the wrong color.
I debated my options, talked to my boss, and headed to the dealership after work to meet my new car.
It sat on a platform in the dealership, a sleek silver beauty begging for me to take it for a spin, and the dealership’s manager promised to take care of me himself. Had he been an attorney, I would’ve been halfway across the state before calming down enough to put on the brakes, but I controlled the surge of dismay and faked a smile while looking over the vehicle.
If Lance wanted it in blue, I could have it custom painted. A custom paint job, one he could be involved with, would put the finishing touches on the convertible. I pointed at the car. “Is this ready to be test driven?”
“No. It’s the floor model, and it has to be worked on before it’s ready to be driven. It’ll take three days to have it prepared. We do have a test drive model available, but it’s not quite the same car. The transmission is different, but if you like the test drive model, you’ll like this one. This has more power but similar performance.”
I expected something along the lines; the fully loaded model had extra speed and a bigger engine. “All right. Take me on a test drive, Mr. Frankfurt. Let’s see if this car meets my expectations.”
If it didn’t, I’d be looking for a different model—or test driving some of the older Corvettes on the lot. I’d spied some older ones that’d looked just as beautiful as the silver beast waiting for me to take it home.
I expected it would be a long evening of test driving cars until I decided on the best one for my needs.
The new Corvette drove about as I expected, sporty with a side-dish of holy shit and meow. The older models didn’t wow me nearly as much, although they had a classic Corvette on the lot that tempted me.
It cost three times as much as the new one, it ran like it was new, and the engine purred.
I wanted both.
Both was a problem. First, I didn’t have parking places for either without the help of my boss. Second, buying both would drain a hefty amount of my account and ensure I’d never be repairing my face in my lifetime.
I stared at the 1955 Corvette, rubbing my hands together while I tried to decide if I really wanted to spend three hundred thousand on a vehicle I’d love even more than Lance did.
To my utter delight, it was painted blue.
“That car is a beauty,” I said, resisting the urge to pet its glossy paint.
“It really is. We got this one from an estate sale recently. We don’t expect it to stick around long.”
“You’re right. It’s not sticking around long. I’m buying it.”
It wasn’t Lance’s dream car in the modern context, but it checked off the rest of his boxes and it was a Corvette. And I loved it and had to have it. He’d just have to visit it often. “I’ll take the silver one, too.”
“Both?” Mr. Frankfurt squeaked.
I loved when men became so startled they squeaked. “Both,” I confirmed. I’d have to spend the rest of my money finding a place to move with enough garage spaces to store my new cars. Where the hell was I going to find a place with two parking spots in New York City? Oh, well. I’d figure it out somehow. “Can I drive the classic off the lot tonight?”
“Yes, you can, assuming the payment clears.”
It was time to get on the phone with my bank. “Set me up with the paperwork, please. I can set up a wire, or I can write you a check.” I frowned. “I’ll call and ask if my bank will pass a debit transaction for that amount.”
“Some banks will. Please come with me.”
Mr. Frankfurt left me in his office, and I began the tedious process of calling my bank to clear the major transaction, which they could do to my relief. Then I called my insurance company and added both cars to my insurance policy, which cranked my monthly premium to horrific levels, and that was accounting for my perfect record, good credit, and all the other little things that made me their ideal customer.
When he returned, I had an insurance policy number for him and presented my debit card. “Bank says the transaction should clear, but I should call them back should there be any issues.”
After handling everything from acquiring replacement insurance on the new Corvette, adding a few bells and whistles, rust treatment on the new vehicle, and confirming the classic also had every protective measure I could put on it, I spent over four hundred thousand dollars on someone else’s dream that had somehow also become mine.
He could have the new Corvette, but the classic was mine.
While I waited for the paperwork to be finalized, I called my boss.
“How’d it go?” he answered.
“I own two Corvettes.”
“Two? Why two?”
“One is a 1955 that just came off an estate sale. It’s blue. I drove it, and I must have it. So it’s mine. The other is a brand new fully loaded car in silver. It was their display model. I can get it repainted in blue if needed. I need a place to park my new classic car, sir. Can I borrow your garage?”
“Yes, you can. You can park the new Corvette at work for however long you need, too. How much was Lance’s?”
“It depends on if he sweet talks me out of my new baby classic,” I admitted. “He’d have to do a lot of sweet talking, though.”
“Just hit me with the total.”
“I just spent four hundred thousand dollars.”
My boss whistled. “That’s even more overboard than the bathroom prank.”
“I saw the classic, I drove it, and I fell in love. I had to have it. Lance’s came out to just under a hundred thousand with everything included.”
“Which one are you going to let him drive for the scavenger hunt?”
“The new one, of course. The classic is staying in your garage where it will be safe. Safe!”
“I see you’re already a protective car mother.”
“It’s my baby,” I hissed.
“Ah. I see I’m witnessing the birth of a car enthusiast. All right. Send me the paperwork for the new Corvette, and I’ll get it filed so you can be compensated. Lance will just have to figure out how to get the classic out of your hands on his own.”
“We’ll talk tomorrow about what I’ll need once the new Corvette is ready for pick up.”
“I’ll text you directions to my house so you can drop off your classic. I can drive you back to the dealership to pick up your vehicle.”
“I took public transit today.”
“Then I’ll drop you off at your apartment so you’re not out all night.”
“I appreciate that. Thanks.”
“Text me when you’re on the way,” he ordered before hanging up.
Mr. Frankfurt walked me through how I would submit the ownership papers to the DMV so the car would be tagged as mine, although the dealership tags would let me legally drive the car off the lot. I added an unpleasant venture to the DMV to my to-do list for tomorrow, although I could take a laptop from work and get enough done while dealing with the lines for the ten minute transaction.
Within an hour, I had the keys, a date to pick up my new Corvette in three days, and four hundred thousand reasons to question my sanity.
I checked the time, narrowed my eyes, and took a picture of my new car to show to Chloe. I sent the picture and waited to see if she’d call or text me.
She called.
“What is that?” Chloe squealed in my ear.
“It’s my new car. I took the dive.”
“What the hell is it? It’s beautiful!”
“It’s a 1955 Corvette that came off an estate sale. It drives really nicely. I don’t even know or care if it has all original parts. It has a bunch of certificates with it for authenticity; the dealership got it from the estate sale.” I also had the owner records, which I’d go over once I got to my boss’s place. “I was working on my next prank for Lance, but I got sidetracked.”
“Into buying yourself a car?”
“It didn’t go as intended.”
“What were you doing for Lance?”
“Buying him a car.”
“That backfired a little.”
“I bought him a car. It’s just not this car. This one is mine.” I gave my new vehicle a pat. “I love my new car. I’m about to take it to Mr. Kenton’s house so it can stay in his garage for a while. I now need to move so I have a place to park my new car.”
“You could move in with Lance.”
“He only has two garage ports and he has two cars.”
“He has a driveway sufficient for two more cars. It could work.”
“Chloe.”
“What? It’s true.”
“You have zero proof he actually likes me, first of all. Second of all, you know what’s actually going on.”
“I do. He’s going to be furious with us.”
“Think the car will make up for it?”
“Maybe.”
It could be worse. She could’ve said no. “I’ll do what I can to mitigate the damage.”
“I know you will, but you can’t fix his past. No one can. He has to work through it on his own.”
“Still. I’ll do what I can.”
“Hey, question. Do you know anything about this skydiving instructor? I have no idea how to look into this.”
“He said his instructor was licensed. Start there.” If she was thorough, she might find out I was licensed, but she’d have to work for it. “I’ve got to get to Mr. Kenton’s house to drop off the Corvette and get home. Tomorrow, I have a date with the DMV.”
“My condolences. Julian wants me to get a vehicle, but I keep saying no. We have two perfectly good cars.”
Somehow, I understood Julian more than I had a few hours ago. “But are they perfectly good cars you love?”
“He doesn’t have to change his entire life around me, Alice.”
“He doesn’t have to, no. But he wants to. There’s something to be said for someone who loves you so much you’re the sun he orbits around. I’ll see you tomorrow at work.”
I hung up, sighed, and wondered when the hell I’d been the kind of person to do something so damned bad to someone so damned nice while still hoping he’d forgive me for it anyway.
Life never made sense. All I could hope was that Lance would come out on top despite everything.
Mr. Kenton lived in a two-story house half an hour from work, and it amazed me it was possible to have a real house in the city. He disproved my belief three car garages couldn’t exist, as his garage had three spots, and a door was open waiting for my Corvette. I pulled my precious angel into the spot and killed the engine.
My boss looked over my new car and whistled. “Now that is a car.”
I pulled out the packet of papers. “Would you mind going over these with me? This car seems too special to not review the documents, and there are certificates and prior owner papers in here.”
“Sure. Come on in, Alice. Coffee? Tea?”
“Tea, please.”
The inside of his house was nicer than the outside, and an older woman with white hair trapped in a bun sat at the kitchen island. She stood when I entered, and she smiled. “You must be Alice. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Lauren.”
I shook with her. “Yes, I’m Alice. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Alice has some papers she’d like me to help her with about her new car. The dealership gave her some certifications and old owner records. The car came from an estate sale from my understanding of the situation.”
“That’s what the manager at the dealership said.” I handed over the packet. “I should’ve looked into the past owners, I guess, but it was from an estate sale. The car runs fine, and I don’t care if it’s all original parts or not. It’s just a beautiful car.”
“Go have a look at it, Lauren. We get to babysit it for a while.”
Mr. Kenton’s wife bolted for the garage with the same enthusiasm I expected from someone like Chloe.
“She likes old cars.”
I smiled. “I didn’t know how much I liked them until I saw this one.”
“A good car can do that. Let’s see what we have here.”
At his invitation, I sat at the counter, and he started the electric kettle for tea before sitting beside me and spreading the papers out onto the island. He sucked in a breath, lifting one of the sheets. “Alice? You didn’t look at the papers, right?”
“Not at all. I took the guy’s word for where he got it. An estate sale.”
He handed the paper to me. “Lance’s father owned the car.”
I gulped, grabbed the sheet, and sure enough, it listed an Armand McCarthy as the previous owner. “Jesus Christ. All he had to do was give him this car, sir.”
“Maybe he thought it would be spoiled if he did.”
I winced. “If the relationship between them is anywhere near as bad as I believe, you’re probably right. So he had the car sold to pay for the other fund?”
“There’s one way to find out.” Mr. Kenton grabbed his phone and dialed a number. “Sorry to bother you this late at night, but I had a question. One of my employees purchased a car—” My boss laughed. “Yes, it’s a 1955 Corvette, and it’s blue. It’s Lance’s favorite car. So, the papers we have are accurate? It is from Mr. McCarthy’s estate? Can you give us some information about the sale? The young lady who purchased it acquired it for herself while pursuing a vehicle for the beneficiary. Yes, it’s a Corvette. No, it’s silver, but a paint job is possible. In light of the classic car, I’ll suggest she keep the modern vehicle silver and let him decide what color to paint it once he receives it. She’s the woman I put in charge of the case. So far, she has given him a great deal of supplies to renovate his bathroom in his home. She’s scheming his kitchen next. I believe the Corvette and a scavenger hunt will be the finale of our venture.”
My boss listened to the person on the other end of the line long enough that the kettle beeped, and he rose to make tea, making soft noises of agreement every now and then. “Yes, she is expecting blowback from the situation. That’s in part why there is a scavenger hunt at the end, although she has not told me the details. I suspect she’s trying to mitigate as much of the repercussions as possible. Will it work? I don’t know. Is this the car he really wants?”
When the other person finished speaking, my boss set his phone on the counter and brought me a mug of tea. “Well, I have been educated.”
“Sounds like it. Do I want to know?”
“All right. So, it works like this. The executor of the estate is Lance’s half-brother. Lance is unaware of his brother’s existence. He’s eighteen, and he’s been receiving a lot of help from our firm with the will. He only found out about Lance because of the will, but he put the pieces together on his own. The car was listed as a liquid asset in the fund for Lance. He wasn’t aware that Lance loves blue Corvettes. He’s dismayed he sold the car now that he knows, and he’s willing to compensate you for the price of the vehicle.”
“No, that’s not necessary.”
“And you’ll be compensated for the vehicle. It’ll just adjust the fund somewhat.”
I wrinkled my nose. “But I want to make Lance come visit it.”
My boss laughed. “Figure you can use it as a bribe to get him to forgive you for this stunt?”
I nodded. “Somewhat. He’s going to be mad, won’t he?”
“Furious, I expect. Lance loved his mother a great deal.”
“Does Lance’s half-brother want to meet Lance?”
“He’s hoping to. Arnold had a very different familial upbringing from Lance. Lance’s father died a changed man.”
While too late for Lance, I was grateful his half-brother had enjoyed a better family life. “The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow need not be actual gold. It can be anything.”
“Including family. Arnold’s mother died when he was young. A car accident. Lance’s father raised him on his own. Arnold is a remarkable young man. Smart, one of the most generous people you’ll ever meet, and humanitarian to the core. That’s what they did once Mr. McCarthy was injured at work and it was probable he’d face lifelong illness. They tried to save the world.”
“To redeem himself? For what happened to Lance’s mother?”
“I believe so.”
More of life’s puzzle pieces fell into place. “Are there records of what he did? Of his father’s humanitarian projects?”
“Of course. It’s extensive.”
“Can you ask Lance’s brother for them? In as many details as possible? Names. People. How they were helped.”
My boss frowned, but then his eyes widened. “You want to show Lance his father had changed.”
“It won’t stop him from hurting, it won’t make him less mad, but maybe it’ll help down the road.”
“Yes, I can do that. I’ll talk to Arnold about it tomorrow and put together a file for you. I guess you’re going to do this as part of the scavenger hunt and the car prank?”
“Yes, I think so. I want the pranks to be fun, but if this is really about moving forward, the last one needs to be something special.”
“I look forward to seeing what you plan to do. And no, don’t tell me. I’d like to be surprised, too. I think of all of us, you’re the one with the most in common with Lance.”
I expected to be kissing my chance to even be friends with Lance goodbye after everything was said and done, but I’d try to make the most of the next few weeks. “I’m not sure how that’ll help me, but I’ll do my best.”
“You’re good at doing your best. You just needed a chance to shine is all. Don’t look so dismayed, Alice. Lance is a lot of things, but he’s not a fool.”
I sure as hell was for letting myself get too involved with what could only end in disaster. “I hope you’re right.”