She didn’t worry—she recognized his address on the back of his business card. It figured he would live up on Knob Hill, or as she called it, Snob Hill. The cool air hit her body, and with the clear sky, the night presented for a perfect ride. Margie cut back on the speed and let her body enjoy the freedom a solitary ride brought her. Lately, she’d cut back on the amount of joy rides she took, because she needed every bit of cash to pay the bills. Margie passed the street to Remy’s house again. She pulled her bike over to the curb and cut the engine. She’d avoided the initial arrival, because she wasn’t sure she could face making another mistake. This job would answer all her problems, but she was tired of getting her hopes up, only to have someone stomp on her dream. She often did things at the spur of the moment without a thought to the consequences. Combined with bad luck, this plan of hers overflowed with warning signs. The kind of money Remy offered was too good to pass up, and so she set her helmet back on her head.
