“What are you looking for?” Bill asked.
“My cell phone. I've got Road Side Assistance.” I let go a frustrated gasp. “I forgot my cell phone.” Unable to take much more, I buried my face in my hands and screamed. This day sucks!
“Hey, Sabrina. This isn't a big deal,” Bill said soothingly.
I slanted my eyes at him, sucked air through my nose—which, filled with mucus, must sound sooo appealing, “What do you mean it isn't a big deal? It's a big deal to me! My ice cream will melt by the time I get someone down here to change that tire!”
Hands on hips he stared back at me through his cool and expensive Oakley sunglasses. The sun glinted off his shades and his expensive, humongous watch.
“I'll change it, and we'll put your ice cream and anything else into my car.” He turned, hit his remote an
