No Apologies and No Regrets

by Roddy Wix

Sally Ramsay had taken a hot shower and was towel drying herself when she heard someone’s fist make a brutal attack on her front door. Jumping out of the shower she grabbed a robe and headed toward the living room of her Menlo Park condo.

  Looking back at her through the peephole was the smiling, distorted face of Bart Zeigler looking as though he had just slain a dragon.

  The grinning fool! He’s actually cute. If he’d only pay a little attention to himself he might be hot. A haircut and some decent clothes would be a good start.

  Sally pulled her robe around herself and yanked the door open.

  “Bart! What are you doing here?”

  “Thought you might like to take a ride with me.”

  “A what?”

  “A ride. You know, “top down, wind in your hair, nice evening”. All that kind of stuff.”

  “Why? Besides, you don’t own a convertible.”

  “Put some clothes on and come take a look.”

  “Are you completely crazy?”

  “Sure, but I'm a lot of fun, too. Let's go.”

  Why not?

  “Alright. You come in and sit down while I get dressed.”

  “Fine, but remember, we’re not going to a cotillion. Jeans will be fine, if you own any.”

  “Sure,” was Sally's surly answer as she headed in the direction of her bedroom.

  “Help yourself to the bar. There are beers and soft drinks in the refrigerator if you prefer.” She called over her shoulder as an afterthought.

  Wow. A bar with a refrigerator. At the price of local real estate I’m doing good to have one in my kitchen.

  “Thanks.” Instead of getting a drink Bart wandered around looking at the many framed photos of Sally and her friends and family. One was with Mom and Dad on the family sailboat, a very large one, off the coast of some tropical island or the other. In another she was with a man Bart did not recognize until he noticed that the photo was signed by the late Robert Mondavi. Yet another of her as a young girl was taken on the rocky coast of Maine. Sally was with her father and then President George H. W. Bush. Well traveled and well connected, very well connected he thought to himself. He was drawn to a large photo of her in an elegant white dress. She was on the arm of her father who looked dashing in white tie and tails. He guessed correctly it was of her debut. The name on the matting read “Sarah Brooke Ramsay”. Sarah, huh? Next he saw her Stanford graduation photo. The woman he believed to be her mother was absent. He wanted to continue his tour of her photographic history, but Sally reappeared in the living room.

  Bart his surprise to find her dressed in tattered jeans and a white oxford cloth shirt tied at the waist. The curves concealed by her work clothes were now plainly visible and sent Bart’s mind to places he wouldn’t have expected. Her hair was still wet and combed straight back. She hadn’t wasted much time on makeup but Bart immediately saw how beautiful she was. He felt as though he was looking at her for the first time and the vision took his breath away.

  “OK, Bart. Here I am, dressed as instructed. What’s up?”

  Bart had a hard time getting his brain and tongue to synch.

  “Bart! Get it together! What do you want?”

  “C’mon, let me show you. We’re going for a ride so bring your house keys.”

  Sally stepped into a pair of sandals, grabbed her keys and cell phone off a console table, and headed toward the door thinking this better be good. “Good” did not describe what she found sitting at the curb. It was Ivan Rusikov’s red Ferrari California.

  “Sweet flaming Christmas, Bart! Are you out of your mind?”

  “Again I ask, ‘what do you think?’” Bart smiled calmly.

  “I think you “boosted” Ivan’s car from the airport garage.” At some level this stunt impressed her, but she didn’t need a felony charge as an accomplice.

  “I removed this fine machine from a high risk environment in order to protect my friend and colleague’s valuable property.”

  “You stole it so it wouldn’t get stolen?” Sally scratched her head.

  “An oversimplification, besides, I have ID and documents that would satisfy the CHP if we get stopped.” Bart held out a fake driver’s license and Fluid Dynamics ID with his own picture. They identified him as Ivan G. Rusikov.

  “These are pretty good. You got a side business going on?”

  “Only for personal entertainment.”

  Sally shook her head and for a moment Bart thought she was going to turn around and go back inside.

  “C’mon, Sally, how about a short ride?” Bart walked out to the car and opened the door.

  “OK. A short one.” Sally got in and pulled the seatbelt around her. This was a big step up from Bart’s old Subaru though she had been in the car only once when her BMW ran out of gas. Bart jumped in with relish and, to Sally’s amusement, used his smart phone to start the car. The V-12 sounded sweet.

  “That’s a wicked app, Bart. Does Steve Jobs know about it?” she asked pointing to his phone.

  “Only two people do and they’re both in this car.”

  “Probably best it remains that way.”

  “Agreed. I call it "N-Zo". I wrote it just for this car.”

  “Another thing, doesn’t this car have some kind of an anti-theft system?”

  “Yeah, but it’s broken. Too bad, I hope it’s under warranty for Ivan’s sake.”

  “I hope the thing's ‘broken’ for our sake.”

  Sally relaxed in her seat a little.

  “Definitely. Where to, Ms. Ramsay, or should I say, Sarah?”

  “Doesn’t matter, but please stay under the speed limit. By the way, only my mother calls me ‘Sarah’.” Sally shook her head and wondered if she might be the crazy one. Bart pulled away from the curb and gunned the powerful car just a little. His passenger put a hand on his arm and shook her head.

  “Bart, go slow.”

  “Yeah. Ok.” Bart revved the engine again and accelerated to just a mile or two over the limit. Damn it was a sweet ride. In his dreams he wanted to drive down to Carmel and head south on the PCH to see how it handled there.

  “Do you want to ride down to Carmel and grab a bite to eat?”

  Sally frowned a little and looked at her Rolex then shook her head and said, “I have some work to do and I’m not dressed to go out, anyway. Besides, I don’t think it’s a great idea to push our luck with this car.”

  “You look awesome and you’re already out. Let’s drive down to Santana Row for a cocktail or two.”

  Sally agreed because she wanted to and because her friends were rarely seen at Santana Row. A short while later they sat at an outdoor table at Left Bank. She ordered a gin and tonic and Bart ordered a Blue Moon. By the time the drinks were served Sally’s mood had changed and she seemed pre-occupied. She became quiet as they finished their drinks and rather than order a second she asked Bart to take her home. He reluctantly agreed and drove her back to Menlo Park in silence. If it had been a real date Bart would have been depressed, but it wasn’t and he was at the wheel of a new Ferrari. What the hell? Live a little.

  “Thanks for the ride and the drink, Bart. I’ve seen a whole new side of you.” And I’m not sure I dislike it.

  “Yeah. I’m multidimensional. Maybe we can do this again sometime?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know, Bart, but if we do how about something less felonious like, not in a stolen Ferrari for instance.” She got out of the car and walked toward her building. With a casual wave over her shoulder she disappeared without looking back.

  Bart sounded a note of the car’s horn and pulled away from the curb. Sally looked amazing and her ass was even more impressive in tight torn jeans, but for now he was just a kid with a new toy and a short time to play with it. For grins he cruised over to In ‘n Out and went through the drive-through. He wasn’t hungry so he only ordered a soft drink, but the looks they gave him made it worthwhile. The sun had
n’t set yet so he got back on the 101 and decided to give in to his wish to drive down to Carmel. He struggled to stay anywhere close to the speed limit.

  25.