As luck would have it, they left the clubhouse the same moment as Tatyana’s ex did. Which, truth be told, Wayne did not mind at all. Because Tatyana kept a double-handed grip on his arm as they stepped into the night.
Which was when the idea came to him.
Tatyana started down the stairs, taking aim for the distant lot. But Wayne stayed immobile upon the bottom step. Tatyana halted in the process of walking away and gave him a questioning glance.
The valet chose that moment to appear.
Wayne took in the white jacket with the ridiculous gold braid and the shorts and the running shoes, just the sort of getup some rich lady would design because she liked the idea of handsome youths doing a cabaret. He drew the key from his pocket and said, “It’s the red one in the far lot.”
The guy’s eyes went round at the sight of the prancing horse upon the gold-plated seal. “For real?”
“Tell me you can handle a stick.”
The kid beamed. “I’m a fast learner, sir.” He did not run. He vanished.
Tatyana rewarded him with a chuckle so low and throaty Wayne felt it in his gut. He had never heard her laugh before.
A man’s voice rose from the group to Wayne’s left. It was the voice of someone who never asked twice, never waited for anything. “Where are my limos?”
In response, a motor whined into life. One moment the Ferrari was out beyond the light’s perimeter. The next the valet was popping out the door and springing out and racing around to open the passenger door.
The door into which Wayne helped Tatyana settle.
Wayne reached into his pocket and handed the kid a bill he did not bother to look at. The kid pocketed it without taking his eyes off the car or the lady. “My dad’s always telling me to find a goal in life.”
As Wayne settled behind the wheel, a petulant voice behind them yelled, “Can we have some service here?”
He revved the motor a little more than was required, then eased away at a crawl. Tatyana rewarded him with another of those laughs. One drawn from Siberian honey and dust the color of unrefined gold.