Raven nearly laughed in her face. What the hell did she think? If she thought he was going to drive her half across America and not give her a tumble she was crazy.
“You don’t have to worry about that angle,” he assured her. “You won’t have any complaints.”
She played with the handle of her spoon. “You don’t mind if I’m straight with you, do you, Mr. Young?”
Raven shook his head. “I’d like it.”
“I want to go. In fact, it is the chance I’ve been dreaming about, but it’s too good to be true. I feel there’s a catch in it somewhere.”
“There isn’t, but if you feel nervous about it, I won’t press you.”
She looked at him as if trying to read his mind. She didn’t like the cold eyes or the thin mouth, but she knew she’d go. She couldn’t afford to do anything else. She had to get to Hollywood.
She said, “Well, thanks, I’ll go, anyway. Don’t think I’m ungrateful, but a girl’s got to be careful.”
Raven nodded. “It does me a lotta good to see you hesitate,” he said. “Some of the dames I’ve spoken to would have thrown in a lot of things to come with me. I don’t like that type of dame.” He finished his coffee and stood up. “Friday night about nine−thirty. I’ll pick you up. Don’t bring too much baggage, will you?”
He didn’t offer to shake hands. Out in the street he raised his hat. “Thanks a lot for helping me out, Miss Leroy.”