One for the Money (Stephanie Plum, #1)

by Janet Evanovich

Two weeks later, Joe Morelli came into the bakery where I worked every day after school, Tasty Pastry, on Hamilton. He bought a chocolate-chip cannoli, told me he’d joined the navy, and charmed the pants off me four minutes after closing, on the floor of Tasty Pastry, behind the case filled with chocolate éclairs. The next time I saw him, I was three years older. I was on my way to the mall, driving my father’s Buick when I spotted Morelli standing in front of Giovichinni’s Meat Market. I gunned the big V-8 engine, jumped the curb, and clipped Morelli from behind, bouncing him off the front right fender. I stopped the car and got out to assess the damage. “Anything broken?” He was sprawled on the pavement, looking up my skirt. “My leg.” “Good,” I said. Then I turned on my heel, got into the Buick, and drove to the mall. I attribute the incident to temporary insanity, and in my own defense, I’d like to say I haven’t run over anyone since.