Page 34 of The Girl with No Name
My blood curdles. “That’s not necessary.”
“If you’re not onsite, you’re breaking company policy. So I’m afraid it is.” I hear a woman’s voice in the background. “In any case, have a nice weekend. Get that done for Lennie.”
Dunn fake-sneezes and says, “Asshole.”
My stomach churns. I cough loudly to try to cover up Dunn’s not-veiled-enough insult, but it just makes it seem like even more like I’m messing with Hal.
Hal narrows his eyes. “Do you think this is some kind of joke?”
“Joke? No, sir.”
“We’re definitely going to have a discussion on Monday in the office—well, I’m not back in the office until Wednesday, but you know what I mean. Get that list done.”
“Will do.” I grind my teeth together as I hang up. “Dunn, seriously?”
He shakes his head, eyes on the road. “Seriously, fuck that guy. I’m in the military, and I’d never humiliate my subordinates like that. He sucks.”
“So…you going to make all those calls?” Luna asks. “Or are you going to play us a song?” She nods toward my guitar next to me in the backseat.
“I’m more of a hobbyist than a musician. It makes me nervous to play in front of people I don’t know.”
“Bullshit,” Dunn says. “He writes his own songs. They’re fucking good.”
Luna takes off her sunglasses with a hint of a curious smile. “I thought you were more of a square. You write?”
“I dabble.”
“Play me something. Please?”
I shake my head. “Gotta make these calls.”
“Fine. Can you put on ‘Late July,’ Charlie?” Luna says. “This drive justfeelslike that song.”
Luna hums softly as we continue our drive. She’s got a pretty voice.
As we journey farther southeast,the scenery undergoes a remarkable transformation. A vibrant tapestry of rolling hills and lush greenery unfolds, stretching as far as the eye can see.
Luna, nestled comfortably in a sunbeam streaming through the car window, drifts into a peaceful nap, her rhythmicbreathing a soothing backdrop to the melodic strains of Zach Bryan’s “Late July” filling the car. The beautiful melody weaves its way through the air, encapsulating the essence of summer with its bittersweet lyrics.
Luna nailed it; today really does feel like that song. There’s something about when the days are technically getting shorter, but you’re still fully in the throes of long, lazy summer.
Okay, I’m not fully there, but I might be coming around to Zach Bryan.
As we traverse the winding roads—Dunn’s favorite—snippets of local life begin to dot the countryside. Small towns come into view, interspersed with long swaths of greenery peppered with horses, inviting us to delve deeper into the heart of the Bluegrass State.
Luna stirs. “Are we almost there, guys?”
“Just about. Another hour. Maybe less,” Dunn says.
She points toward a white house on a hill, with horses grazing in a field in front of it. “It’s so beautiful. Look at these houses.”
“Probably costs less than my rent in Chicago, too.”
She turns to me and reaches out to tap my cross necklace.
“What’s that from?”
Her inquiry sparks a cascade of memories. “I got it during a time when I was going through some stuff.”