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Chapter 10

Chetshark, with a twinkle in his eye and a sale in his sights, gets the key and we all go out in the convertible. I, having secretly decided on the Accord, like there was ever any doubt, decide it's my turn to have fun and begin grilling Josh immediately. "How's it handling?" I ask in a teasing voice.

"Shh…" he says almost reverently. It's kind of cute to see him like this. I mean, really, I'm witnessing the midlife crisis of Joshua Lyman. I have to admit, he's handling it better than I ever would've thought. A joy ride in an expensive car? It sure beats round two with Amy Gardner. Oh wait; we had that a few months ago, didn't we? Never mind.

"Are you comfortable? What about the controls?" And what about this wind in my hair? I'm going to be one big tangle when we're done here. Have you seen "Bridget Jones' Diary?" You remember the convertible scene…

"Uh huh," he says in a way that makes me absolutely positive he's not listening to me. Of course, that's really nothing new.

After a few more minutes of questions he either grunts out answers to or doesn't answer at all, I decide Josh isn't any fun and turn to Chetshark while holding my hair back. What I'd give for a scarf or hell, even a rubber band at this point. "Admit it, Chetshar…" Oops, almost slipped. "Chet. This was your plan all along, wasn't it?"

He's sitting in the backseat, his head up towards the sky and his eyes closed, apparently also going through a midlife crisis, but he sits up and looks at me, chuckling. "You've figured me out. Get Josh to bring his girlfriend in and talk him into a car too. Why settle for one sale when I can get them both?"

My eyes widen. "We're uh…" I look over to Josh for help, but he's off in his own world of Audi-ism. "We're not…" I usually handle this better, I've heard it numerous times over the last six years, but after this morning's e-mail proof, I find it harder. "We uh… work together," I finally choke out.

We pull up to a red light then and Chetshark ignores my babbling and turns to Josh. Who can blame him? I sound like an idiot. "What do you think, Josh?"

Josh doesn't answer him and I look over at him. Oh… he's not in awe, he's strategizing. "Josh…"

He remains quiet, his brow furrowed and his eyes squinted a little bit. I've seen him like this in his office before, and while this look could be mistaken for indigestion or constipation, something either brilliant or disastrous always comes soon after. The light turns green and he drives again, still paying no attention to us whatsoever. The silence is too much, so I tease Chetshark again. "So you planted this next to the one you're trying to sell me, knowing he'd become enamored, right?"

"Josh obviously has good taste," he says, nodding towards me. "Of course he'd notice this car." Well, that's true. I am quite the catch.

"What's Donna's trade worth?" Josh asks him out of the blue.

Chetshark and I both jerk our heads in his direction. "Little to nothing," he answers. "She should donate it to charity for the tax write-off. That's her best bet."

"I can't imagine charity wanting it," Josh says to him. My bottom lip juts out and I hit Josh in the arm; they're not being very nice.

Chetshark chuckles. "I have a list of schools and churches that hold car smashing fundraisers."

"What?" I nearly scream!

He looks over at me. "They raise money by selling tickets. Your tickets give you a couple swings at the car with a baseball bat or whatnot."

"Absolutely not!"

"Donna…" Josh says quietly.

"No! No way!"

Josh looks at me for a few seconds and then rolls his eyes. "What else have you got?" he asks Chetshark in a resigned voice.

He takes a deep breath. "You might be able to find an auto-diesel college who'll buy it for a few hundred bucks if it has enough things wrong with it to make fixing it worth their while."

"Oh, it's got plenty," Josh says before glancing over at me with raised eyebrows, but I've decided I hate Chetshark. "I'm buying the Accord," I say stubbornly as I turn and look out the window defiantly. When did I become the child and Josh the adult?

Josh stops at another light. "You are absolutely not buying the Accord. You're either buying the new Audi or you're buying mine."

This throws me for a loop the size of a roller coaster at GreatAmerica and I whip my head around to him. "Excuse me?"

He shrugs but keeps his eyes on the road. "I'll buy this, you buy mine."

I look over at the sticker price on the window and nearly pass out. "Don't be ridiculous," I scoff. "You're not really buying this car; you're just having a midlife crisis joy ride." He's not buying this car. He just needs to let out a little… I don't know, testosterone or male goo or something. Then he'll come to his senses and realize that he has an awesome car at home that's in mint condition and is that awesome dark silver color that I love.

He raises an eyebrow at me and I start to get that sick feeling I get when Josh goes off and does something crazy that I fear will get him fired and leave me working for Toby. What? That's what would… fine. Fine! I'd leave with him, happy now?

"I'll tell you what," Chetshark says to him. "You buy this and trade in yours, and I'll sell it to Donna for the trade-in amount plus the title transfer. I won't even pull a profit."

I glance back to the Beast killer before focusing on Josh and studying him for a minute. I see now that he's completely serious. This makes me a bit queasy. "We're not discussing this in front of the shark," I tell him quietly. And I'm not even sorry I called him shark to his face. Talking about The Beast like that. He's lucky I didn't whack him with my purse.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

I spend the rest of the test drive listening to Josh and Chetshark talk about the convertible while quietly trying to decide if I want to kill Josh or throw him on the nearest hard surface and have my way with him. Admittedly, this isn't the first time I've had this dilemma. I glance over at him occasionally, but he remains calm. He's wearing one of his victory smiles, which makes him unbelievably hot, but I vow not to let that influence my decision. If only he weren't wearing jeans…

When we get back to the dealership, Chetshark offers to leave us alone so we can have what he no doubt assumes is a lover's spat. Little does he know it's one of our many pre-lovers spats. I wonder, will we spat like this once we actually are lovers? But then the word 'lovers' combined with Josh distracts me from such thoughts and I can't really remember what I was wondering in the first place.

I wait until we're relatively alone before looking over at him and crossing my arms over my chest. His reply is to smirk at me. "Now Donnatella…" he starts calmly.

"Are you insane?" I nearly scream.

He remains calm. "Not insane, Donna. Brilliant, but not insane."

I remain… not so calm. "Josh, do you know what that car costs?"

"I do recall looking at the sticker price, not that I'll pay that much."

"Josh!"

"I know what I can afford, Donna."

I take a deep breath. "Can you stand there and tell me you're not buying this car to keep me from buying the Accord?"

He looks straight at me. "I like the car. I, in fact, love the car."

"That wasn't the question!"

He turns around and then quickly turns back to me, gesturing like a crazy man. "This is a win-win situation! Why can't you see that this is a win-win situation?"

"Because it's not! This is you buying a car so I don't buy the fourth safest car on the market! You are not winning in this situation!"

"Donna!" he screeches, which almost makes me smile. Almost. "Do you see that car? It's awesome!"

I start to speak but he puts his hand up to my mouth and points over to the car. I look at it reluctantly and he comes to stand behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders as I look at it. It is awesome, the feel of his hands on… I mean the car. It's light silver instead of dark silver, but it works with the black top. It's all leather inside and has about a hundred other options listed on the tag. It also costs more than I made last year.

We stand there like that for several seconds, staring at the car. Finally, he whispers in my ear, "I'm getting the car, Donna." I know he's talking about a car, but that was extremely sexual and I admit, to you only, to being somewhat turned on right now.

I nod slowly, coming to terms with it. Then it dawns on me; there's about to be a used Audi on the market. Have I mentioned my love for Josh's car? I turn around and scoff as if letting a five year-old have their way. "Fine, Joshua. You can have your new toy."

He smiles, his dimples out, and it's worth mentioning, his hands still on my shoulders. "Thank you. Now, about you…"

I raise my eyebrows, giving an innocent look. "Yes?"

"I think you should buy my car."

I smile. "I might just do that." After I see what they're going to give him for trade-in. Let's be realistic. I still might not be able to afford it.

"Good."

"In fact, we should go get it so you can trade it in."

He makes a 'nah' face and shakes his head. "I'm not trading it in; I'll just sell it to you direct."

"But…" that won't work. I can't buy it outright. "If I buy it from the dealership I can take out a loan."

"You won't need a loan," he says, grinning and hopping again on the balls of his feet, his dimples out and his eyes mischievous. "I'm selling it cheap."

My eyes widen and I cross my arms over my chest again. I'm not sure what it is about this position that makes me feel bossy, but I use it a lot when talking to him. "Joshua, you are not taking a loss on your own car. I'll buy it for the trade-in amount." If I can afford it. I don't tell him that.

He crosses his arms over his chest then and gets right up in my face. "Well I'm not trading it in," he says stubbornly. "So you're going to have to buy it from me for my asking price."

It gets quiet while we glare at each other, each waiting for the other to back down. I finally scream through gritted teeth and ask. "And what exactly is your asking price?"

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Ten dollars, non-negotiable."

"Ten dollars?" I nearly scream.

"Non-negotiable," he reminds me with a grin. "I can't take a penny less. Now let's go look at my new car." He casually walks away from me to the convertible a few feet from us, opens the door and pops the trunk as if he didn't just… did he just...