We take her car, as I thought we would—it’s flashy and sleek, and riding in it with the top down makes me feel incredibly sexy. It’s hot out, too hot for the convertible, really, but Meredith turns on the air conditioner, as well, which creates a cold air bubble around us. “Isn’t it kind of a waste to run the A/C with the top down?” I ask.
Meredith laughs. “Just because we want to look cool doesn’t mean we can’t be cool, too.”
Can’t argue with that.
It’s rush hour, so Meredith stays off the interstates and busier highways, and instead winds through tree-lined one-way streets as she heads away from the heart of the city. With the top down, the wind and noise are too loud to let us chat, and whatever’s playing on the radio is lost between us. But the sun is warm above us and, for the mome
