She laughed. “It’s fine, really. I have a ten-year-old Honda.” And she didn’t mind, though there was much to be said for vehicles with a bit of extra leg room, even for someone as short as her.

“This your first time in Seattle?”

“Yes,” she said. “I hear the traffic is formidable.”

“It is, but I’ve got this route down pat. I zip through a few side streets, and I’ll have you at Mr. G’s in record time.”

When he said zip, he wasn’t kidding. She felt like she was on a carnival ride. Stop. Go. Slam on the brakes, swerve around corners. She held onto the armrest and closed her eyes. She and her mother had a terrible problem with car sickness. Lauren sent up a silent request to the powers that be that she wouldn’t get sick in this tiny little car. On her clothes. Or, even worse, when she met Mr. Giampalo. She wanted to ask Derek to slow down, take it easy on the corners, but feared if she even opened her mouth, that would be the end of her self-control. The next ten minutes was the worst time she’d ever spent in a vehicle trying not to lose her cookies. She rolled down the window, allowing the cold air to hit her face. It was the only thing she could do.

A squeal, and another hard slam on the brakes.

“Told you I’d get you here on time.”

Lauren couldn’t speak. Struggling to hold back the waves of nausea, she took as deep a breath as possible, then eased herself out of the car. She had no idea where they were or if this was even the main office. At this point, she didn’t care. All she wanted to do was sit down and be still. No movement, because all it would take for her to lose it was one more unexpected jar.

“You okay?”

She couldn’t even shake her head. She stood beside the car, her bag at her feet.

“Ms. Montgomery?” he asked again.

Lauren swallowed back the bitter espresso she’d had earlier. “No,” she managed to say in a whisper through clenched teeth.

“You carsick?” he asked her.

She didn’t dare move her head to respond, so once again she spoke through clenched teeth. “Yes.”

Derek shook his head. “Dang, I guess that ride was a bit rough, huh?”

She didn’t dare answer. Lauren wanted to sit down somewhere cool and quiet and motionless. She managed to point to the entrance. The building was at least ten stories high, and she could only hope the office was on the ground floor.

“Ah, got it. Let’s go inside.” Derek took her bag and plowed ahead of her.

Managing to reach deep within herself, Lauren inched her way inside the building. One. Step. At. A. Time.