{"id":1259,"date":"2021-07-15T15:51:15","date_gmt":"2021-07-15T22:51:15","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/?page_id=1259"},"modified":"2021-07-15T15:51:15","modified_gmt":"2021-07-15T22:51:15","slug":"pleasure-of-the-chase","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/index.php\/books-2\/romances\/pleasure-of-the-chase\/","title":{"rendered":"Pleasure of the Chase"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"pl-1259\"  class=\"panel-layout\" ><div id=\"pg-1259-0\"  class=\"panel-grid panel-no-style\" ><div id=\"pgc-1259-0-0\"  class=\"panel-grid-cell\" ><div id=\"panel-1259-0-0-0\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-editor panel-first-child panel-last-child\" data-index=\"0\" ><div class=\"panel-widget-style panel-widget-style-for-1259-0-0-0\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-editor so-widget-sow-editor-base\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t>\n<div class=\"siteorigin-widget-tinymce textwidget\">\n\t<h2>Pleasure of the Chase<\/h2>\n<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><div id=\"pg-1259-1\"  class=\"panel-grid panel-no-style\" ><div id=\"pgc-1259-1-0\"  class=\"panel-grid-cell\" ><div id=\"panel-1259-1-0-0\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-image panel-first-child\" data-index=\"1\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-image so-widget-sow-image-default-13f2a8b12fcc-1259\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t>\n<div class=\"sow-image-container\">\n\t\t<img \n\tsrc=\"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Pleasure-of-the-Chase-1-229x300.jpg\" width=\"229\" height=\"300\" srcset=\"https:\/\/annroberts.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Pleasure-of-the-Chase-1-229x300.jpg 229w, https:\/\/annroberts.net\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/04\/Pleasure-of-the-Chase-1.jpg 761w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 229px) 100vw, 229px\" title=\"Pleasure of the Chase\" alt=\"\" \t\tclass=\"so-widget-image\"\/>\n\t<\/div>\n\n<\/div><\/div><div id=\"panel-1259-1-0-1\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-button panel-last-child\" data-index=\"2\" ><div class=\"panel-widget-style panel-widget-style-for-1259-1-0-1\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-button so-widget-sow-button-atom-35500a5eb44b-1259\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t><div class=\"ow-button-base ow-button-align-center\"\n>\n\t\t\t<a\n\t\t\t\t\thref=\"https:\/\/www.bellabooks.com\/product\/9781594935008\/\"\n\t\t\t\t\tclass=\"sowb-button ow-icon-placement-left ow-button-hover\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener noreferrer\" \t>\n\t\t<span>\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tBUY\t\t<\/span>\n\t\t\t<\/a>\n\t<\/div>\n<\/div><\/div><\/div><\/div><div id=\"pgc-1259-1-1\"  class=\"panel-grid-cell\" ><div id=\"panel-1259-1-1-0\" class=\"so-panel widget widget_sow-editor panel-first-child panel-last-child\" data-index=\"3\" ><div class=\"panel-widget-style panel-widget-style-for-1259-1-1-0\" ><div\n\t\t\t\n\t\t\tclass=\"so-widget-sow-editor so-widget-sow-editor-base\"\n\t\t\t\n\t\t>\n<div class=\"siteorigin-widget-tinymce textwidget\">\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<h3 style=\"margin-bottom:20px ;display:block;width:100%;margin-top:10px\">Pleasure of the Chase <\/h3>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<style>\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t#tab_container_1184 {\r\n\toverflow:hidden;\r\n\tdisplay:block;\r\n\twidth:100%;\r\n\tborder:0px solid #ddd;\r\n\tmargin-bottom:30px;\r\n\t}\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1184 .tab-content{\r\n\tpadding:20px;\r\n\tborder: 1px solid #e6e6e6 !important;\r\n\tmargin-top: 0px;\r\n\tbackground-color:#ffffff !important;\r\n\tcolor: #000000 !important;\r\n\tfont-size:18px !important;\r\n\tfont-family: Arial !important;\r\n\t\r\n\t\tborder: 1px solid #e6e6e6 !important;\r\n\t}\r\n#tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav-tabs {\r\n    border-bottom: 0px solid #ddd;\r\n}\r\n#tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li.active > a, #tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li.active > a:hover, #tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li.active > a:focus {\r\n\tcolor: #000000 !important;\r\n\tcursor: default;\r\n\tbackground-color: #ffffff !important;\r\n\tborder: 1px solid #e6e6e6 !important;\r\n}\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li > a {\r\n    margin-right: 0px !important; 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\r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n#tab_container_1184 .tab-content{\r\noverflow:hidden !important;\r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n@media (min-width: 769px) {\r\n\r\n\t#tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li{\r\n\t\tfloat:left !important ;\r\n\t\t\t\tmargin-right:-1px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\t}\r\n\t#tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav-tabs{\r\n\t\tfloat:none !important;\r\n\t\tmargin:0px !important;\r\n\t}\r\n\r\n\t#tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li {\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tmargin-right: 8px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t}\r\n\t#tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav{\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n\r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n\r\n@media (max-width: 768px) {\r\n\t#tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li {\r\n\t\t\t\tmargin-bottom: 8px !important;\r\n\t\tmargin-right:0px !important;\r\n\t\tmargin-left:0px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t}\r\n\t#tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav{\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n}\r\n\r\n\r\n\t.wpsm_nav-tabs li:before{\r\n\t\tdisplay:none !important;\r\n\t}\r\n\r\n\t@media (max-width: 768px) {\r\n\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t#tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav-tabs  li  a  i{\r\n\t\t\t\tdisplay: none !important;\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t.wpsm_nav-tabs{\r\n\t\t\tmargin-left:0px !important;\r\n\t\t\tmargin-right:0px !important; \r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t\t}\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t#tab_container_1184 .wpsm_nav-tabs > li {\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\tmargin-right: 8px !important;\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t}\r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\r\n\t}\t\t\t\t<\/style>\r\n\t\t\t\t<div id=\"tab_container_1184\" >\r\n\t \r\n\t\t\t\t\t<ul class=\"wpsm_nav wpsm_nav-tabs\" role=\"tablist\" id=\"myTab_1184\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  class=\"active\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1184_1\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1184_1\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>ABOUT THE BOOK<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1184_2\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1184_2\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>BACKSTORY<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1184_3\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1184_3\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>EXCERPT<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<li role=\"presentation\"  onclick=\"do_resize()\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<a href=\"#tabs_desc_1184_4\" aria-controls=\"tabs_desc_1184_4\" role=\"tab\" data-toggle=\"tab\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<span>VIDEO<\/span>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/a>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<\/li>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/ul>\r\n\r\n\t\t\t\t\t  <!-- Tab panes -->\r\n\t\t\t\t\t  <div class=\"tab-content\" id=\"tab-content_1184\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <div role=\"tabpanel\" class=\"tab-pane  in active \" id=\"tabs_desc_1184_1\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<p>For Parnelli \u201cNellie\u201d Rafferty, the sexiest things in the world are women and automobiles. As a member of the \u201cCarparazzi,\u201d she makes her living as an auto industry spy, trolling the proving grounds scattered throughout the world and snapping photos of the newest prototypes and models before the manufacturers officially unveil them to the public.<\/p>\r\n<p>Jos Grant is just trying to get by. She stumbled into automotive espionage by accident, but when she realized how much she could make selling photos to magazines, and how thrilling it was to chase a Ferrari across Death Valley, she dumped her computer job. But membership in the Carparazzi comes with a price. Her partner has left her, and now she must juggle co-parenting her two children and the demands of her new career.<\/p>\r\n<p>Until now, Nellie and the fast lane have always been a match made in heaven. But doing whatever is necessary to get the shot begins to lose its appeal when her attraction to her new, fiercest competitor begins to grow.<br \/>Then a French car manufacturer pits them against each other to keep a dangerous secret and Nellie must make the decision of her lifetime\u2014are passion, love and loyalty worth giving up the chase?<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <div role=\"tabpanel\" class=\"tab-pane \" id=\"tabs_desc_1184_2\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<p>Picture this: you\u2019re sitting at a red light one day, when the oddest car you\u2019ve ever seen pulls up beside you. It\u2019s covered in black and white geometric figures, and if you stared at it for too long, you\u2019d get a migraine. The driver notices you checking out the car (and her), and when the light changes, she hits the gas and screams away. You think, What\u2019s her problem?<\/p>\r\n<p>More than likely she pulled away quickly because she thought you were a member of the Carparazzi, a group of industrial auto spies who trek around the world, attempting to take pictures and video of never-before-seen automotive prototypes. Like the paparazzi, these photographers sell their pictures to the trade magazines for lucrative paydays. Car enthusiasts who long to see the next great model and the new features flock to the magazines for these unauthorized pics.<\/p>\r\n<p>My upcoming romance, Pleasure of the Chase, explores this fascinating lifestyle and the relationship between two members of the Carparazzi, veteran photographer Nellie Rafferty and newcomer Jos Grant. Nellie is well known for her fierce competitive nature and her willingness to do anything to get the shot. Once she dressed up as a nun and infiltrated a convent that overlooked an Italian proving ground just to get a picture. However, trotting around the globe is tiring. Nellie has chased cars her entire adult life and is discovering her priorities are shifting.<\/p>\r\n<p>Jos Grant joined the Carparazzi after happening upon a prototype parked in a fast food lot. She sells a picture to a magazine and is hooked. Jos is a mom and getting the shot equates to putting food on the table. She\u2019s a rookie, still learning all of Nellie\u2019s tricks. She tries to be as ruthless as Nellie, or at least, she tries to live up to the legend that is Nellie.<\/p>\r\n<p>Both have a love of the chase and soon find themselves drawn to each other while they compete for the same shots. Romance waits behind the camera lens and competition becomes more difficult. When a ruthless automaker manipulates both of them, they must join forces to prevent a dangerous car from being mass-produced.<\/p>\r\n<p>One theme that surfaces throughout the novel is America\u2019s love of automobiles. Most of us have car stories\u2014our first car, the family car we rode in for summer vacations, the first time we made out in a car, or a favorite make and model. My favorite car is the \u201966 Mustang. I\u2019ve owned two and I often reference Mustangs in my books. The picture you see here is my second Mustang. If you look closely you can see two of our dogs, Wylie, the World\u2019s Most Relaxed Ridgeback, and Babe, a little black spaniel Many treats were used to cajole Wylie off the couch and into the car for this photo.<\/p>\r\n<p>I inherited my first Mustang from my grandmother, and I have fond memories of tooling around Sun City with her, as she routinely exceeded the 15 miles per hour speed limit and scared the heck out of the golf cart drivers. Grandma was hell on wheels.<\/p>\r\n<p>As we move closer to self-driving cars, there is talk that cars will become non-descript black boxes. We\u2019ll board, sit down, and enjoy the ride. Some believe the days of choosing a color or a model are numbered. Car aficionados scoff at such talk, believing that a person\u2019s car is an extension of personality. I guess time will tell.<\/p>\t\t\t\t\t\t <\/div>\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t <div role=\"tabpanel\" class=\"tab-pane \" id=\"tabs_desc_1184_3\">\r\n\t\t\t\t\t\t\t\t<p><p style=\"text-align: center;\">CHAPTER ONE<\/p><p>Verde Valley, Arizona<\/p>\r\n<p>Just a hair to the right and the Jeep would\u2019ve spun out, careened over the embankment and plunged into the Verde River. Fortunately, Parnelli \u201cNellie\u201d Rafferty had learned from prior experience. She pulled the wheel ever so slightly, avoided the river and kept pace with the car in front of her.<\/p>\r\n<p>Her prey was hard to miss: a black-and-white-spotted Toyota prototype, a vehicle not yet green-lighted for manufacturing. First it had to pass hot weather testing. Similar to the Chrysler Prowler, its rear was boxier, but she could see the sleek lines of a hot sports car beneath the camouflage. The engineers had taped pieces of Styrofoam to the car\u2019s frame before applying the black-and-white shell. The camouflage often distorted photos taken by industrial auto spies like Nellie.<\/p>\r\n<p>She snapped the pictures car fanatics longed to see. As a freelance photographer, her goal was to scoop her competitors and sell the photos to the highest bidder, who would publish them prior to the manufacturer\u2019s planned launch. She didn\u2019t care which magazine bought the photos so long as someone did. Those in her line of work were referred to as the carparazzi.<\/p>\r\n<p>Much like the paparazzi, the carparazzi had a love-hate relationship with the automakers. They hated when auto spies undermined months of their PR department\u2019s work, but at the same time, they loved them\u2014when it was someone else being scooped. If consumers didn\u2019t like what the carparazzi revealed, they\u2019d buy a different model from a competitor. In Nellie\u2019s mind, it all balanced out for each company\u2019s profit and loss column.<br \/>She checked the speedometer. Ninety-five in a fifty-five. That would be a hefty ticket if a highway patrolman happened to be parked behind the stand of chokecherry trees ahead. If she was going to get the shot, it needed to be in the next seven miles. When they hit Camp Verde, the speed limit dropped to twenty-five and a clear shot would be nearly impossible amidst the townspeople, other cars and buildings.<br \/>\u201cGo big or go home,\u201d she said as she accelerated to one hundred.<\/p>\r\n<p>The prototype\u2019s bumper was so close she could see the seams of the boxy hatchback. It was fake, another common trick of the manufacturers: add falsies to make the proto look like a different model or different brand. Normally she wouldn\u2019t chase a car to get a shot. It was too dangerous. But as she\u2019d followed the vehicle, the diaper, the trade name for a back camouflage, had fallen off, exposing some interesting taillights that looked like fins. It was too tempting not to pursue.<\/p>\r\n<p>And she loved to drive fast. Her Jeep\u2019s soft top had long ago been discarded after someone sliced it to ribbons. She assumed the vandal was an automotive engineer, angry that she\u2019d exposed a model before it hit production. The vandal had done her a favor. She\u2019d never known such freedom until she sailed down the road without the confines of a roof and windows.<\/p>\r\n<p>Finally in position, she readied her camera around the windshield. This was the most suspenseful moment of the chase. The hot August wind blasted in her face. The desert landscape rushed past her. She held the camera and steered the Jeep with her knee, ignoring the pain in her back. It was a tricky and dangerous thrill ride not found in any amusement park.<\/p>\r\n<p>There was a rumble and the prototype pulled away. She clicked madly, swearing all the while. She knew the photos would be fuzzy at best. She shook her head. She should\u2019ve guessed a sports coupe would be designed for power.<br \/>\u201cThat\u2019s certainly impressive pickup,\u201d she said dejectedly.<\/p>\r\n<p>She slowed to a legal speed and smacked the steering wheel. She hated missing the shot, but the first rule of spying was to know when to call it a day. She wondered if she\u2019d get another chance to photograph the prototype. She\u2019d heard through her sources that Toyota wanted a showstopper in next year\u2019s line, and the car leaving her in the dust would certainly qualify. Perhaps there would be a need for more hot weather endurance tests, and the prototype would brave the sweltering August sun again before it returned to the proving ground in little Wittman, Arizona, the place Nellie called home.<\/p>\r\n<p>She winced and shifted painfully in the Jeep\u2019s custom-made bucket seat. She\u2019d avoided back surgery despite an MRI that indicated two vertebrae needed to be fused together. At forty-eight, the last thing she wanted to do was go under the knife. Instead she\u2019d had a friend who worked on Lamborghinis make special seats for her Jeep. The lumbar support guaranteed she\u2019d be able to walk after a five-hour drive to Palm Springs or Nevada, two of the other hot weather testing sites.<\/p>\r\n<p>Up ahead she noticed the prototype had also decelerated. She sighed and made a plan for the rest of her day. She\u2019d stop at the Verde Brewing Company for lunch, and then she\u2019d traverse the length of Maricopa County to a press conference in Mesa. The old proving ground formerly owned by Chrysler had been sold to the French carmaker, Argent. Nellie had a short but colorful history with Argent and its strong-arm security team. She wondered if they knew Phoenix was her home. In the space of a year it was customary for her to travel throughout the world to get the money shots. Another proving ground in the immediate area would afford her some easy money without the airfare and hotel bills.<\/p>\r\n<p>Far ahead the prototype was a mere dot against the expansive desert landscape. Suddenly a helicopter appeared from behind the neighboring mountains and set down in the brush, its nose pointed toward the highway. She couldn\u2019t be sure, but she thought it had landed in front of the car and was waiting for it to pass.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cOkay, this is interesting.\u201d She gunned the engine and reached for her binoculars. \u201cC\u2019mon, c\u2019mon,\u201d she mumbled as the road dipped and her long-range view momentarily disappeared. The road leveled out again and she raised the binoculars for a quick look. The prototype had pulled off the road. The driver exited the car and headed across the highway, probably concerned that something was wrong. He suddenly stopped on the blacktop and ran back to the prototype. He sped away just as Nellie pulled up.<\/p>\r\n<p>Sitting next to the pilot was a woman with a camera. Her head was down and she was studying the images through the viewfinder, oblivious to Nellie\u2019s arrival amidst the noise from the swirling blades of the chopper. \u201cShit,\u201d Nellie said with a scowl.<\/p>\r\n<p>It was Jos Grant, a newbie member of the carparazzi who also worked as a photographer for a trade rag. She tended to stay in the Arizona area, unlike Nellie who\u2019d hop on a plane and fly halfway around the world at a moment\u2019s notice. They\u2019d never been formally introduced, and she\u2019d only seen her from a distance at some of the carparazzi hangouts, like the Circle K in Wittman. She was certainly a looker, but Nellie had never seen her as serious competition since she refused to travel.<\/p>\r\n<p>Only when the pilot tapped Jos\u2019s shoulder and pointed did she glance up and see Nellie in her Jeep. Surprise quickly shifted to amusement when Nellie held up her camera and smiled. Jos laughed and pointed at her own camera, almost sheepishly. Hers was a Nikon 8008 with a large zoom, probably a five hundred millimeter mirror lens. Not a bad choice for a beginner. Nellie heard she was around thirty-five, but from her looks she probably got carded every time she bought alcohol. She wore a pink tank top and white walking shorts that made her skin look coppery from exposure to the sun. Her blond hair was pulled back in a tight bun. She looked like she was ready for a set of tennis, not a ride in a helicopter.<\/p>\r\n<p>Many of the other auto spies would be gloating and puffing up their chests at staging such a coup. But Jos adopted a look of concern and pointed at her own camera and then at Nellie, as if to say, \u201cDid you get a good shot?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Nellie shook her head, and Jos mouthed, \u201cI\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Nellie waved her off and pointed at the chopper\u2019s blades before offering thumbs-up. It was a great idea and it proved she\u2019d done her homework. She knew the car would be too fast to tail, so she\u2019d found faster transportation. Today it was Jos who deserved the money shot.<\/p>\r\n<p>Jos replied to Nellie\u2019s thumbs-up with a smile that, despite the August heat, warmed Nellie in a very different way. If they\u2019d been somewhere else, like a bar or a coffeehouse, Nellie would\u2019ve attempted conversation and turned on her charm. But they were pantomiming across a state highway while a male helicopter pilot watched. Clearly not meant to be.<\/p>\r\n<p>She set her camera on the passenger\u2019s seat and grabbed her shades from the visor. Although the possibility of a money shot was gone, she\u2019d look cool as she drove away. She turned to wave goodbye, but Jos was bounding toward her. Nellie immediately noticed her long, muscular legs and the freshly pressed shorts with their razor-sharp crease. Nellie couldn\u2019t picture her crawling across the desert floor to hide from engineers, at least not in those clothes.<\/p>\r\n<p>Jos held out her business card. \u201cI\u2019m Jos. Jos Grant. I thought we should at least know each other\u2019s name since there aren\u2019t many women who do this\u2014at least I haven\u2019t met them.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cNellie Rafferty. Um, hold on. I know I have a card in here...\u201d She scanned the console, tossing aside gum wrappers and old receipts.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cYou don\u2019t need to find it. I know who you are.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Surprised, Nellie dropped the collection of trash. \u201cOh, really? And how is it that we haven\u2019t met before?\u201d she said seductively. She leaned out the window, invading Jos\u2019s personal space. A hint of lavender surrounded her.<br \/>Jos didn\u2019t move or flinch. \u201cActually, we\u2019ve sorta met. You cut me off on I-17 a few months ago when that Volvo go-out team headed to downtown Phoenix.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Nellie attempted to look penitent. \u201cSorry, I cut off a lot of people to get the shot.\u201d It was true. She remembered the morning. She\u2019d waited for a week for the car to leave the proving ground. There was a lot of traffic, and Volvo had surrounded their new model of the xc90 with other cars to keep the carparazzi away. It hadn\u2019t worked. She\u2019d been determined and Car and Driver magazine had been happy to give her a payday.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cI\u2019m still a rookie. I haven\u2019t developed your cutthroat tactics,\u201d Jos said with a wink and a smile.<\/p>\r\n<p>Nellie gasped. \u201cMe?\u201d She threw her chin in the direction of the chopper. \u201cThat certainly wasn\u2019t a rookie move. That was brilliant. Wish I\u2019d thought of it.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Jos blushed and leaned against the Jeep. She gazed at the twin storage lockers behind the seats. \u201cWow. You\u2019ve totally customized this baby. Look at all that room for your gear.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>She smiled broadly, showing the dimples on her cheeks. Nellie\u2019s gaze strayed from Jos\u2019s light blue eyes to the crease between her large breasts. A bead of sweat had trickled from her neck downward past the scoop of the tank top. She suddenly yearned to see its destination. She blinked, realizing she hadn\u2019t responded to Jos\u2019s statement. \u201cYeah, they\u2019re bulletproof, hammer proof, you name it. My stuff fits and I still get great power. But it\u2019s not as fast as a helicopter,\u201d she added.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cHe\u2019s a friend.\u201d Jos nodded over her shoulder at the pilot, who was tapping his wrist. She held up her index finger and turned back to Nellie. \u201cI know we\u2019re competitors, but I\u2019d really like to talk to you sometime since we\u2019re both based in Arizona. Are you on social media?\u201d Before Nellie could answer, Jos\u2019s cell phone rang. \u201cHold on a sec,\u201d she said, pulling the phone from her pocket. \u201cWhat is it, honey?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Nellie leaned forward. She wanted to know who Jos was calling \u201choney.\u201d Boyfriend? Girlfriend? Jos listened for another ten seconds and said, \u201cNo, you tell Grandma that cookies are not lunch, even if they have oatmeal in them.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Her child. She glanced at Nellie and mouthed, \u201cSorry.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Nellie shrugged, as if this happened all the time.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cBridget, I don\u2019t have time to argue. I\u2019ve got a helicopter waiting for me. Cookies are not for lunch, not even if they\u2019re stuffed with broccoli, blueberries and all the other super foods. Even if you\u2019ve done an ingredient analysis. Are we clear?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Nellie couldn\u2019t help but chuckle as Jos signed off. \u201cIngredient analysis?\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Jos shook her head. \u201cI\u2019m sorry. My daughter has learned persuasive arguments need evidence.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cHow old is she?\u201d Nellie asked, impressed.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cNine.\u201d Jos glanced at the helicopter and folded her hands as if begging. The pilot waved her off and she turned back to Nellie. \u201cWe were talking about social media.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cUh, yeah. I don\u2019t do a lot with it.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cWell, maybe we could work an exchange. I\u2019ll show you how to make social media your friend and moneymaker, and you can give me some tips on using my camera. I\u2019m still not great with the action shots and choosing the best settings. I\u2019ll be lucky if one of these pictures turns out.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cHmm. That would be a shame. Uh, sure, we could get together.\u201d Nellie tried to sound enthusiastic, but learning how to use Facebook wasn\u2019t what she wanted to do with a woman like Jos.<\/p>\r\n<p>\u201cGreat,\u201d Jos said. \u201cNow that you have my card, feel free to call.\u201d<\/p>\r\n<p>Nellie watched her return to the chopper. The back pockets of her shorts shifted left and right with the gentle sway of her hips. Nice ass. Great legs. As she stepped into the cabin, Nellie got a profile view of her chest. 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