Notes From the Backseat Read Online Free PDF Page B

was feeling guilty about shoving me back there like an ill-behaved pet and monopolizing my man’s attention. A few minutes later I found myself standing at the counter of a chichi little juice bar, staring at several cases of bright green wheatgrass behind glass. When I’d heard the word breakfast I had visions of greasy potatoes, syrup-drenched pancakes, a mocha piled high with whipped cream. I was ravenous and hunger always makes me a little edgy—you know how I get. It was easy to see as soon as we pulled up that this place wasn’t exactly the greasy spoon of my dreams. The menu was primarily liquid-based; there were smoothies with exotic names like Tahitian Sunrise and Arab Blue. In addition to wheatgrass, they were juicing things I never imagined you could drink, like beets and ginger, parsley and yams. In the solid-foods department there was soy yogurt, homemade granola, flaxseed protein bars and fruit salad. My stomach growled and I felt a surge of hunger-induced homicidal hysteria coming on.
    â€œDannika’s a raw food junkie,” Coop said when he noticed me staring in disbelief at the menu.
    â€œSo I gathered.” My voice sounded tight and strained.
    â€œWe could—you know—go somewhere else. What are you in the mood for? Doughnuts? Waffles? Hostess snack cakes?” He squeezed my shoulder affectionately.
    Coop knows I have an insane sweet tooth. Can I help it if my body demands a sugar and caffeine rush every morning? Possibly I’m an undiagnosed diabetic—well, I could be. I was about to tell him a chocolate croissant from the bakery next door would be dreamy when I saw Dannika glance over at us with a smug, vegan smirk. God, I hate raw food freaks. They’re so righteous and clean looking, it makes you want to force-feed them Rice Crispies Treats until they puke.
    Suddenly I was overcome with the desire to beat Dannika at her own game. Looking into her clear blue eyes, I could see my own short brunette self reflected there and I knew exactly what she was thinking; she saw me as a mere blip—a passing fancy of Coop’s, nothing more. She seemed almost disappointed in the lack of challenge I presented. Whether or not she wanted Coop for herself, it was clear she didn’t consider me worthy of him. In her mind, that was all that mattered. She’d already written me off. She would tolerate me for the duration of the weekend, but by Monday, I would be toast.
    Well, she was wrong; I had to show her that I was a force to be reckoned with. I would demonstrate—forcibly, if I had to—that her approval wasn’t required.
    If there is only room in Coop’s life for one of us, I’ll be damned if it’s me who’s getting ousted. He’s the first man I’ve ever met worth fighting for and if I have to sharpen my claws to keep him, so be it.
    â€œYou know what? I think the root juice sounds amazing,” I said.
    Coop looked at the menu. “Carrot, beet, yam and ginger?” He eyed me skeptically. “You sure?”
    â€œMmm, hmm,” I said. “It sounds…cleansing.”
    â€œOkay,” he said. “If you say so. I think I saw a bakery next door, though. Little mocha, chocolate croissant…” His offer was tempting and I was touched at how accurately he’d assessed my cravings, but I was determined to out-vegan the vegan, even if it killed me.
    â€œNo, really,” I said, “this is perfect.”
    Dannika pretended not to be listening. She did some pretentious, show-offy upper body stretches as we waited for the anemic-looking woman in front of us to finish ordering. “The protein bar doesn’t contain any wheat, does it?” the lady asked, dabbing at her nose with a crumpled Kleenex. The bronzed surf God behind the counter assured her for the third time that everything they served was wheat and gluten-free.
    When it was our turn, Dannika stepped forward gracefully, leaned one