The Perils of Paulie (A Matchmaker in Wonderland)

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The Perils of Paulie (A Matchmaker in Wonderland) Page 26

by Katie MacAlister


  By this time, Paulie had joined us and swore under her breath. Her fingers found mine and tightened in a show of support and comfort. I squeezed them in return, grateful for the fact that she was there, shouldering the burden of the car alongside me. It boded well for our future.

  “Ah. Yes?” Anton held up a hand when Paulie asked him what was going on. The oldest son ran for the house, calling loudly to his mother as he did so. “Yes, yes, that is good. It seems that our host knows of another farmer who used to be a mechanic. They are calling him to come and look at the engine.”

  “The engine that your team sabotaged,” Paulie said, and suddenly opened her eyes wide and sucked in approximately half the air in the yard. She turned to look at me, horrified.

  “What?” I asked her.

  She glanced at Anton and leaned into me. “They did something to the car. While we were in it.”

  “Ah.” I thought about that for a moment before answering softly, “We had the blanket over us, if that is what you are worried about.”

  “Still.” She shivered and released my hand to rub her arms. “It gives me the creeps to know they were poking around the engine while we—”

  I whispered in her ear, “While I was poking around you?”

  She made a delightful little half snort, half laugh, and pinched my side.

  “What do you know about this?” I asked Anton a few minutes later, when he was done conversing with the farmer.

  “I’m no expert on engines,” he said, shaking his head.

  “I meant about the sabotage. It’s clear that your team is taking whatever steps are necessary to leave us in the dust.”

  “And I told you both that I refused to have anything to do with that sort of thing,” Anton said firmly.

  I looked closely at his face, but saw no signs of deception. I didn’t put much stock in that, however. Despite his having been briefly a member of my team, I hardly knew him.

  Half an hour or so later the mechanic arrived, along with three other men, and in no time there was a party around the engine. Tool chests were brought out, cloths were spread on the still-damp ground, and men donned filthy overalls in order to get underneath the big car.

  Paulie watched and fretted, worrying aloud about how far the Essex team could get. I kept an eye on Anton, and a closer one on the men who started taking apart the engine. As each piece came off, the men would gather around it, examining it and holding a comprehensive discussion before moving on to the next piece.

  Irritation and impatience rode high on me, but I repeatedly bit back the demands that they put the engine back together and just let us go on our way, knowing the engine would not stand up to travel in its damaged state.

  Almost five hours later, we waved our good-byes again, my wallet quite a bit lighter after the repairs had been made.

  “I’ll reimburse you for my half of the cost,” Paulie told me when I got behind the wheel. “Or better yet, we’ll make Roger pay for it, since it was caused by the team he insists isn’t behind all the trouble we’ve had.”

  “I’m not concerned about the money,” I said, peering through the grubby windscreen. “It’s the head start the Essex car has that worries me.”

  Anton sighed. “I wish I had some reassurance to offer, but alas, there is nothing I can say other than I regret my teammates have chosen this path.”

  “Oh, come on,” Paulie said, shooting a glare over her shoulder to him. “You can’t honestly expect us to believe you had no idea the Esses were responsible for damning the entire race from start to finish?”

  “No, I assure you I did not. Yes, I knew they told the customs officials about you having a gun, but you didn’t have one, so you were only slightly delayed. And I did know they intended to take all your tires, but Stephen was only able to get a few before someone came by the car. I felt you had enough left to see you through until Roger could replace what you were missing. As I said, those are regrettable instances, but I hardly see how that’s damned the entire race.”

  “Don’t belabor the point,” I told her softly. “He will only deny it and you will simply seethe. I’d much rather you had a look at the GPS unit and see if there are alternative routes indicated.”

  We drove with few breaks for the rest of the day, sometimes able to follow the main route mapped out by the race officials, other times being led on lengthy detours. Mindful that the Essex team had at least a five-hour head start, we took turns driving with only necessary stops for petrol and to relieve ourselves. Anton had offered to take his turn driving, but it wasn’t until we’d been in the car for eight hours that we finally took him up on his offer and allowed him to take the wheel, although I made sure I was next to him, awake and aware.

  Just in case he had any ideas.

  It was after midnight by the time we reached Warsaw. We stopped at the first available hotel on the outskirts of the city and took two rooms.

  “Get some sleep,” I told Paulie when we straggled into our room. “I’m going to take a shower.”

  She collapsed on the bed, lifting a wan hand. “I’d join you, but I think I’d fall asleep even assuming your fabulous body all wet and soapy and naked was pressed against me. Damn.”

  “Damn?”

  She yawned hugely. “I like you wet and soapy and naked, but I just don’t have the energy to do anything about it.”

  I smiled. “Another time you may work your wiles, all right?”

  “Deal,” she said, and moaned when she snuggled herself into the mattress.

  I had a shower, scraped away the worst of my beard, and donned fresh clothing. When I emerged from the steamy bathroom, Paulie was sound asleep. I pulled off her shoes and tucked her beneath the sheets, stroking back a strand of black hair that fell over her face, looking down at the woman who had so completely barged into my life and turned everything upside down.

  I thought about my life back at Ainslie Castle, where I was a glorified clerk stuck in a job that anyone could do. Elliott’s wife, Alice, was more than capable of doing the work, and it had crossed my mind more than once to simply turn it over to her. But what would I do then? I wasn’t trained to do anything but estate management, and how could I ask Paulie to live with me, to love me, when I had nothing to offer her?

  I sighed. I’d have to stay a steward. At least then I had the gamekeeper’s cottage to offer Paulie as a home, and enough of a salary to feed and clothe her.

  The night air was soft and warm when I left the hotel room, making sure it was locked before I retraced my steps to the parking lot. We’d pulled the Thomas Flyer into a spot that couldn’t be seen from the street, but there was no parking lot attendant we could pay to watch the car. “Well,” I told it, shaking out the blanket, “at least this time I shouldn’t end up on the floor.”

  I slept fitfully for three hours; then Paulie came down to find me. “What are you doing here?” she asked, waking me up. It was light out.

  “Sleeping,” I said, rubbing my face. “And guarding the car.”

  “Dammit, you should have woken me, and I’d have slept out here with you. Come on.” She tugged me until I was in a sitting position. “I slept like the dead, so I can drive first thing. Let’s get some breakfast in you, and then we’ll go dump Anton on Roger, wherever he is, and get back to catching up to those stinking cheaters.”

  I allowed her to pull me from the car and give me a push toward the hotel rooms. “We shouldn’t leave the car alone—”

  “It’s not going to be alone,” she said, settling in the backseat and pulling out a small notebook. “Go eat. Take another shower if you want—I’ve had mine. And when you’re ready to leave, get Anton out here.”

  I left her to her writing, making a mental note to jot down my thoughts just as soon as we were on the road again. “At least this time I have something interesting to write about,” I said aloud while I made my way to
our room. “It’ll need a lot of editing, but there’s a good deal of meat to it. Maybe too much. Hmm. Will have to consult another travel journal to see how they balance real life with interesting facts . . .”

  Paulina Rostakova’s Adventures

  AUGUST 10

  6:22 p.m.

  Backseat of car, en route from Prague to Munich

  Note to self: Copy this over to journal as soon as I can find it

  Writing a quickie update while Dixon is driving. He had a long sleep earlier this morning when we left Prague—poor guy hasn’t had a lot of rest lately, what with the damned Essex team cheating all over the place.

  Where did I leave off? There’s been so much going on that I can’t remember, and my journal is in my bag, strapped to the back of the car. Let’s see . . . We got into Warsaw in the middle of the night and crawled into the nearest hotel. I crashed as soon as we got there, but Dixon, bless his heart, slept in the car to guard it against Anton (or the other members of his team).

  “I have to admit,” I told Dixon about six hours later, when we left a brief meeting with Roger, the two film crews, and Anton, “that Anton seems innocent of wrongdoing. I mean, he didn’t do anything to the car when he drove.”

  “I was watching him pretty closely to make sure he didn’t,” Dixon answered, and yawned.

  “You climb into the back and sleep,” I told him. “I’ll drive for a few hours. No, don’t object—I can see how tired you are. Your normally devastatingly handsome face has lines of strain all over it.”

  He gave me a look of mock horror. “All over it?”

  “Yes. Like plaid, crisscrossing hither and yon. Get some sleep before I change my mind about being in love with a man with a plaid stress face.”

  He bit my ear, but climbed into the back and dropped off almost immediately.

  Two hours later, while I was fueling the car, Tabby and Sam stopped behind me. Roger had opted to take a train to Berlin, where he and the other film crew would rent a car and drive back toward Warsaw until they found the Essex car.

  I glanced into the backseat, but Dixon was still asleep. Gesturing at Tabby, I pulled her away a few yards and said, “I know you’re not supposed to tell me, but this is important. Those bastards cheated by sabotaging our engine and made us at least five hours late. Do you know where they are?”

  “Yes,” she said without a second’s hesitation. “They’re en route to Berlin. They should be there in the next couple of hours.”

  “Sons of seagulls,” I swore, doing a mental calculation. It would take us more than six hours to get there. “Thanks for telling me, and not being all ‘It’s against the rules’ and so on.”

  She gave me a little smile. “I might be more strict about it except Sam overheard Dermott telling the Esses you were just arriving in Warsaw. If their camera crew can help them, then I figure it’s fair for us to do the same.”

  “Bless you,” I said, giving her a quick hug. “I really appreciate it. We need all the help we can get.”

  “Then you’ll love this tidbit—” She glanced around and leaned in close to say, “You have a chance to catch up. Not just catch up, but pass them, if you can drive all night. I know Roger doesn’t want you doing that, but if you and Dixon take turns sleeping, you might just pull it off.”

  “But they’re still so far ahead of us—”

  “They are, and they know it. And they’ve had a long, hard day after several long, hard days, and they have to be just as tired as you are. So with their lead time well in the bag, I don’t doubt they’ll spend the night in Berlin before setting off early in the morning.”

  “Yeah, but they wouldn’t want to risk losing their lead.”

  She gave a half shrug. “Dermott told them you and Dixon looked like hell. No doubt the Essex team will assume that, even if you make it to Berlin tonight—and you know it won’t be until at least midnight before you do so—you’ll be too tired to do more than limp into town and collapse.”

  I gave her a keen eyeing. “How are you feeling, Tabby?”

  “Me?” She looked startled.

  “Slept well the last few nights, have you? Up to some hard-core driving?”

  She grinned and punched me lightly on the arm. “I am. We both are. If you can do it, we can do it. Just don’t leave us behind like in that rainstorm.”

  “Deal,” I said, and shook her hand.

  An hour later Dixon woke up feeling much better.

  “I am pleased to inform you,” I said, climbing into the backseat so I could get some rest, “that you no longer have a plaid face. I will continue to love you.”

  “You could do better, you know,” he said in a light tone, and once again I was possessed with a doubt about his true feelings. Damn the man—why couldn’t he just come right out and tell me what he felt? Why did he have to dance around the subject?

  He had to love me. At least a little. He couldn’t sleep with me and want to marry someone else. Could he?

  Damn him!

  August 10

  From: Tabby

  You’re swerving a lot. You guys OK?

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  Yeah.

  August 10

  From: Tabby

  You know, there are no more autobahns here, right? You can’t just drive crazy like that.

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  We know. I was trying to . . . uh . . . Dixon was being all . . . um . . . never mind.

  August 10

  From: Tabby

  You didn’t try to give him a BJ while driving, did you?

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  Of course not!

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  As if I would!

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  We are not the blow-jobs-in-a-car sort of people, thank you very much!

  August 10

  From: Tabby

  Oh?

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  If you must know, I was trying to seduce him into telling me he loves me. By nibbling on his jaw. Nothing more. OK, my hand was on his thing. But that’s it.

  August 10

  From: Tabby

  You what?

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  Thigh! Leg thigh! Not thing. Stupid, stupid autocorrect.

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  You think he loves me, don’t you? You and Sam see everything.

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  Tabby? You there? You were supposed to reassure me that Dixon loves me and wants me and will marry me because my dad won’t let me live in sin. Although I think that sounds like a lot more fun than living in non-sin.

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  TABBY???

  August 10

  From: Tabby

  Sorry. Was reading something to Sam.

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  You didn’t answer my text. Don’t think I didn’t notice that.

  August 10

  To: Tabby

  I knew it. He hates me. Sigh.

  Paulina Rostakova’s Adventures

  AUGUST 14

  9:14 a.m.

  Paris, France. At. Effing. Last.

  I’m going to do this properly and not foreshadow one damned thing. No, sir. It’s all proper reporting, all the way. I am Nellie Bly personified! Except there’s no way I’d have myself committed to an insane asylum, because I just know they’d do electroshock therapy on me, and just the thought of that weirds me out.

  Where was I? Oh yeah, doing this properly.

  We got into Berlin in the middle of the night. I don’t know what time it was, because we only stopped long enough to get food and gas i
n the car, and have a potty break. We alternated driving and napping in the backseat. I won’t say I slept every time I was back there, but I did my best to rest so that I was wide-awake and properly safe when it was my turn to drive. We crawled into Prague just as the sun was coming up.

  August 11

  To: Tabby

  You guys OK? I don’t see you.

  August 11

  From: Tabby

  Tabby is sleeping. We’re getting petrol. Probably about ten minutes behind you. Sam.

  August 11

  To: Tabby

  We’re all out, and going to find an out-of-the-way hotel. Will send you address.

  August 11

  From: Tabby

  Thank god. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could drive. My eyes are crossing. Sam.

  —

  “I think we’re close to breaking Sam,” I told Dixon from where I was bundled up in the backseat. “He says his eyes are crossing.”

  “I’m long past that state. I think mine have turned into glass,” Dixon said in a voice that was rough with exhaustion. “What about this place?”

  I peered out at the nondescript hotel. “Works for me. What street are we on? I’ll send it to Sam.”

  “I’m going to have to sleep in the car again,” Dixon said tiredly when we got a room and unloaded just what we needed to get through the next handful of hours.

  “You don’t really think the Esses are going to find us?” I asked, rubbing my face. My eyes burned, my ears were buzzing slightly from the constant noise of driving in a convertible, and my body felt like it was bound to lead weights. “Even if they leave Berlin now, and if we sleep four hours, would they be looking for us here?”

  “It’s not just them.” He stretched, grimaced, did a couple of stretches to loosen up his back muscles, and waved when Sam pulled in beside us. “Anyone could poke around the car if we leave it unguarded, and we’re too close to the end to risk losing out because we both want to sleep in a bed.”

  I eyed him. Behind me, Sam woke up Tabby and helped her from the car. She murmured something at us and stumbled off to get a room. “It’s your turn to sleep in the bed. I’ll stay in the car.”

 

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