Flashing lights behind her on the freeway told Caroline Macey she should change lanes and let the approaching cop car go by. Diving to the right to clear a path, she took a double-take when the black and white moved over behind her as well, lights still flickering like a Fourth of July firework display. Caroline accepted the ugly truth: she was being pulled over again, and she would definitely be late to her first class at the community college.
"Damn it," she swore as she piloted her BMW 118i convertible to the shoulder of the highway. Hitting the edge of the road with tires whining on the rough surface, Caroline jerked to a stop, seething right down to her Crimson Sunset painted nails tapping on the redwood burl steering wheel.
It wasn't fair. She'd specifically bought a white car so it wouldn't stand out to cops, yet here she was, waiting for another of California's finest to issue her a ticket.
The cop exited his squad car, ambling up to her passenger door as if he had all the time in the world. He bent to see her, even though the top was down. Probably another one of those intimidation moves all cops seemed to be good at. This one smiled engagingly, though his aviators hid his eyes and the gum he smacked altered his tone.
"Do you have any idea why I pulled you over, Ma'am?" Smack, smack. Were cops even allowed to chew gum on the job?
Batting her eyes behind the white framed, dark, Lady Gaga sunglasses she wore, Caroline replied in a bored tone, "No, sir. But I bet you're gonna tell me."
No more gum smacking after her singsong reply.
"Well, Ma'am, it's because you were going twice the speed of light. License, proof of insurance, and registration, please?"
Ah, a smart ass cop. Great; there wouldn't be any getting out of this ticket. Something about this cop, well, all cops, really, rubbed her the wrong way. She pulled out her license and dug in the glove box for the other two items, fully aware of the cop stepping back to eyeball her car, jaws working furiously on that wad of gum.
Caroline offered the requested items with a quick flick of her wrist. "Here you go, Officer. How exactly do you write 'twice the speed of light'?"
Lifting her chin, she watched the officer remove his sunglasses. Holy cow! The most gorgeous brown eyes bore into hers. He replied, "In layman's terms, that would be about ninety miles per hour. I'll be right back." He then sauntered back to his squad car.
Studying the cop's fine behind, Caroline estimated he was about her age of twenty-eight, dark haired with just a hint of mustache and stubble—Stubble? On an officer of the law? Maybe she should ask for his badge...
She opened her car door and swung her long, tanned legs out. Before she could go any farther, the cop barked from his vehicle, "Get back in your car, Ma'am, now."
Sneering in exasperation, Caroline slumped back inside, seriously annoyed at the whole situation. And she still wasn't sure if he really was a law officer. Staring in her mirror, she noticed hottie Officer Dudley Do Right returning in a jiffy, shiny black shoes crunching on the gravel of the emergency lane, sunlight glinting off those infernal government-issue aviators.
"Well, Ms. Macey, you seem to like speed, according to your record. I can see why in that car, but you're in danger of losing your license. You've reached your limit of speeding tickets and points this year, and there's still four more months left." He stood by her passenger window while he wrote out the dreaded ticket. Before he finished writing, however, he paused, narrowing his eyes on her.
"Ms. Macey, could you remove your sunglasses so that I may ascertain whether you're under the influence of anything?"
Caroline sat up ram-rod straight. This was just being plain-ass petty. She should really take down this clown's badge number and report him for harassment. Instead, knowing it would be just as snarky, Caroline haughtily pulled her glasses down her nose to instigate a more immediate response.
The diva response elicited a charming grin from the cop that made her want to smile in return. "That's good. But putting them on top of your head would be better." He leaned in to study her blue eyes.
"Oh, you are sooo hitting on me. Just give me the ticket and stop this time-wasting." She stuck out her hand imperiously.
He returned to his full height, writing even more slowly and meticulously. "That would be against department regulations, Ms. Macey. You seem sober, just rather tense—"
"Is that your professional opinion, sir?" Caroline glared as he turned the ticket tablet toward her for her signature.
"Well, your tenseness may contribute to more speeding."
"You are the cause of all my tenseness, Officer—" She zeroed in on his nametag. "—John Andrews. You're wasting my time trying to hit on me. Just give me the damn ticket." She signed with an angry flourish.
Officer Andrews turned the tablet around, saying in a dead pan voice as he did so, "You might want to consider traffic school, Ms. Macey. It's not cheap, but you won't have this ticket on your record. And if you keep that sweet car, well, tickets are probably going to be a way of life for you. Just a suggestion. Have a good day." He passed the ticket to her. Giving her a cocky, two-fingered salute, he swaggered back to his squad car.
Fuming, Caroline stuffed the ticket into her purse, started the BMW up with a spoiled-girl rev, and barely refrained from racing away, refusing to glance in her rear-view mirror. If she had, she would have seen the cop lean on his open car door, grinning under his hat in reluctant admiration.