All Work, No Play

6. In Too Deep

"Why won't she return any of my calls or texts?!" Markus groaned. He scrolled through the 50 unread texts and 48 unanswered voicemails he'd left Francine. Casey had been so kind as to buy him a brand new phone, as well as a stack of fresh clothes, despite his protests of her doing too much for him already. She told him he could stay as long as he needed, rent free.

Casey also kept him well fed, which she was doing at the moment, as they sped down the freeway in the cherry-red Tesla in search of some grub. She glanced at him from the driver seat, left hand draped over the wheel. "Leave it alone, Markus. You need a break, y'know, for your mental well-being."

He sighed, dropped the phone in his lap, and clutched his sleepless face. "You're right. I'll stop—for now."

It was her turn to sigh. "I don't get you. Why are you still trying to get back with her? Of all the stories you tell me of Francine, I don't think there's been a single one where she hasn't been toxic to you."

"You don't understand, Case. It's.. uh.. complicated." His eyes gazed out onto the sea of cars as traffic slowed into molasses. He felt nothing.

"What relationship isn't complicated?" she spat. She eyed him up and down—clean and fresh in the Champion hoodie and black trousers she'd bought him. "You're a good-looking guy, well-read, lover of the arts. I bet you could easily find some one who would appreciate you for being you."

"I don't know, I've been out the dating game for so long. And now I've got a daughter.."

Casey's eyes flicked up to the rearview mirror, and her face creased into a scowl. A Mercedes G-Class flew up from behind, missing her rear-end by inches as it braked, and began tailgating her. She tapped the brakes to get the driver to back off.

The G-Class swerved to the left and roared past them in the carpool lane. Up ahead, the cars slowed to a standstill. The brake lights on the back of SUV lit up as it swerved back to the right to escape pancaking itself on the column of slowed cars. Casey slammed the brakes, whipping both her and Markus in their seats, narrowly avoiding a sideswipe from the SUV.

"People really cannot drive in this city," she growled, face burning with embers of anger. She laid down on the horn. An opening appeared in the lane to the right, and the Mercedes Benz swerved again to take it.

Traffic picked up, and Casey punched the pedal, rolling up alongside the G-Class. She peered over, eyes seething with daggers. The driver was a skinny blonde with fake boobs and too much botox. Her attention was entirely on the phone in her hand, as she face-timed an equally dumb-bimbo about brunch and facials. Casey felt her blood surging lava-hot.

She swiveled forward and noticed the exit up ahead. "Shit, that's our off-ramp. Hold on Markus, gonna have to make a move." Lost in his nihilistic glum, Markus barely registered what was happening.

A gap emerged and Casey slammed the accelerator. Their exit rapidly approaching, she flicked the wheel to slip into the opening. Something flashed in the corner of her vision. She wrenched the wheel, tires screeching as the Tesla swung back left into the original lane. The G-Wagen roared by to defend the gap.

"Are you kidding me?? This bitch, cuts me off, and now she won't let me get over??!" Casey screamed, white-knuckle gripping the wheel so hard that the steering column began to rattle.

She pulled up alongside the G-Wagen, lowered the passenger window, and leaned over Markus. Taking notice, the blonde peeled her eyes from her phone and rolled down her own window.

"Ay asshole, learn to drive before you go chasing status!" Casey yelled, spittle flying from her mouth.

"Eww. A Model S???" the blonde scowled. "Even if Elon paid me with his blood diamond money, I still would never drive a Tesla." She turned back to her phone. "Skylar, I'm gonna have to call you back. Some fascist cocksucking cunt is having an episode of road rage."