The Dare (4 page)

I slapped him. I never said I was good with
emotions.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Singing Katy Perry." I grinned, "Now snap to
it, Mr. Senator. We've gotta make it out of this hotel without that
skinny bitch reporting it on the evening news."

"Grandma?"

"The reporter."

"You understand my confusion," he added, just
as someone knocked on the door. "Stay here."

"It feels like a bad movie," I whispered to
myself as I chewed the nail polish off my thumb.

"Shit." Jace looked through the peephole and
then said
shit
about five more times before slowly opening
the door.

Why was he so upset? Why the hell would…

"Aw, shit." I repeated. Because there really
wasn't any other word that existed in the English language that
would fit as well.

So I repeated it again.

As did Jace.

Grandma shrugged and pulled off her
sunglasses. "Let the fun begin!"

"Yes. I'm secure in my masculinity, and for
the last time, dogs cannot speak."

"That's what Jake said."

"Jake?"

Grandma nodded. "He doubted me once. But
never again."

The FBI agent was silent for a moment then
asked, "Did you kidnap him too?"

"No, but I did almost kill him. I had the
shovel and everything."

Coffee spewed out of the agent's mouth.
"Murder?"

"Luckily, when I petitioned God, He said He'd
take care of it. Want to know what He said about you?"

Jace

Memories of my gold-digging fiancée, Kerry.
Dead memories, ones I'd killed off with a bottle of Jack
—
threatened to surface. She'd only used
me for my position, and when I found out about her inability to
keep her clothes on, she'd gone to the news and turned the story on
me.

My reputation almost hadn't survived. And my
heart hadn't ever been the same. My tie felt too tight, the room
too small. Luckily, Beth kept me from hanging myself, and for a
moment I enjoyed it.

The feel of her hands on mine.

The promise that someone actually cared more
about me than my pocketbook or ability to buy them things.

But mostly, the concern that etched around
her face when she was helping me. People weren't usually concerned
with my feelings. I was a politician; meaning I didn't have
feelings, just opinions that only forty percent of the population
in Oregon actually agreed with.

Maybe I was projecting past memories onto her
present person. Who knows what type of person she was now? The girl
from high school could be long gone, for all I knew. Hell, I wasn't
the same person anymore, and I partially blamed her for it. Beth
had made me believe in magic, until the accident changed it
all.

Grandma put her hands on her hips. "Well,
what are you two standing there for? We have to get out of here!"
She threw two duffel bags at us and stomped into the room. "Now
change."

"Change?" Beth and I said in unison.

Grandma reached for the box of half-eaten
cookies and pulled one out, closing her eyes as she chewed. Several
crumbs landed on her leopard scarf, acting like a tray underneath
her mouth.

"Well?" Grandma opened her eyes and stared us
both down. I wanted to duck behind Beth and or make a run for it,
but something kept me in place
—
maybe
curiosity, or possibly desperation. Whatever it was, it was
annoying as hell.

"May I ask why you're wearing…" Beth
swallowed, "that?"

"Oh, this little thing?" Grandma chuckled
then put up a hand and meowed. "I'm a cat."

"We noticed." I coughed to hide my laugh.
"Aren't we supposed to be incognito, though?"

"Cats have nine lives."

"Thank you, Wikipedia." Beth smiled
tensely.

"People love cats, and people love me. It's
really the perfect plan. I'm famous too, you know. They won't even
notice you leaving through the back door once I walk into the
lobby. I'm donating a horrendous amount of money to the Portland
Zoo. They'll think it's a publicity stunt and well… now I don't
have to do my own press conference."

I was silent. Thinking. Wondering if she was
insane or had finally fallen off that rocker and gotten a blunt
head wound. I was about five seconds away from calling Travis and
begging him to put his grandma in a home. She wasn't only a danger
to society but a danger to herself.

"Strip."

Well, if the catsuit hadn't done it, that one
word had.

I shook my head. "Strip?"

Grandma rolled her eyes and grabbed another
cookie. "You can't be incognito in a tux and a bridesmaid
dress."

Okay, so catwoman had a point. I looked to
Beth, but she was already digging through the duffel bag grandma
had brought her. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a white
t-shirt.

Following suit, I unzipped my own bag and
found enough clothes to go to the tropics for at least two weeks on
vacation. I pulled out a pair of board shorts. "And I'd need these
because?"

"No questions," Grandma snapped.

"How did you get all of our clothes so
/fast?" Beth asked. "I mean weren't they at the Titus house? Or in
my case, the rental car" Beth gasped. "The rental car!"

"Waiting outside." Grandma popped the cookie
in her mouth and examined her nails. "Really," she chewed, "it's as
if you two don't trust me. Grandma knows best, and that's all you
need to know."

"You're wearing a catsuit," I pointed
out.

Actually, it was more of a leopard jumpsuit
with a long black tail, a leopard scarf that naturally matched, and
a black beanie that looked a hell of a lot like something you'd see
on a person just before they robbed you blind.

"Hurry up!" Grandma stomped her leopard heel
and looked at her watch. It was also leopard. The woman probably
had stock in the design.

Beth grumbled under her breath and stomped
into the bathroom; within minutes she walked out and looked a bit
like a guy's dream come true. Her white t-shirt was snug across her
chest, her skinny jeans ripped in all the right places, and
black-and-white Converse sneakers that made her somehow look
younger. Not that I'd say that aloud lest she remove my balls with
her fist. Apparently age was a sore subject. Not that I imagined
she was much older. Then again, I wasn't a super good judge of
anything lately, so I decided not speaking was probably a good
call.

I went into the bathroom and threw on a black
t-shirt and a pair of jeans I really don't remember being that
tight. In fact, the jeans didn't look familiar at all. Whatever. I
grabbed the cardigan and decided against the tie. By the time I
emerged, we'd been in the hotel room for fifteen minutes with
Grandma or crazy catlady.

"Alright." Grandma clapped her hands
together, only it wasn't loud because now she was wearing gloves. I
had to look away. Looking directly at her was like reliving the
time I did mushrooms in college. An experience I swore I'd never
re-live.

"It's time."

****

The elevator dinged at the lobby level.
Grandma pressed play on her iPhone and turned to give us a wink,
"Side door, a car's waiting. I'll see you in a few minutes. Now let
Grandma have the spotlight."

The doors opened.

And "Lion King" started playing. Grandma
strutted down the hall and turned the corner.

My mouth may have dropped open as she started
moving her hips in a way no woman at eighty-six should know how to
move
—
in perfect cadence with the music
she danced. The reflection of cameras going off was our cue.

"Come on." I grabbed Beth's hand and walked
briskly toward the back door.

As Grandma said, the rental car was running,
and a gentleman in a Hawaiian shirt was at the wheel. "Get in!"

Not needing to be told twice, Beth and I
tumbled into the back seat and barely had time to buckle our
seatbelts before the old man hit the accelerator, causing the Chevy
Malibu to squeal in protest.

"Um," Beth clenched my hand, squeezing it so
tight I almost lost feeling, "sir, where are you taking us?"

"Airport."

Beth released my hand, her body relaxing.
"That's a relief."

"Don't I know it." The man went through a
yellow light and hit the accelerator again, barely making it
through the next.

"Mind slowing down?" I asked.

The man's answer was to turn up the music.
Just our luck. Britney Spears's "Womanizer" started playing in the
background and, of course, our insane driver knew every damn
word.

Ten minutes later, we arrived at the airport.
I wasn't really sure why I was there other than to help Beth get
her crap out of the car. I was officially taking back every thought
about one-night stands I'd ever had. No one-night stand should end
with your friend's grandmother showing up in a catsuit. Not unless
you're high on some sort of illegal substance, which I was
ninety-nine percent sure I wasn't.

There was always that one percent, especially
when Grandma Nadine was involved.

"Well," I handed Beth her bag, "it was
fun."

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I
expected to be slapped.

Beth's eyebrows arched.

I tried again. "I mean, last night. The
cookies, the uh, exercise…" Oh God, I was making it worse.
"And
—
"

"Just stop." Beth held up her hand. "And
thanks for the reminder that I consumed that many calories in your
presence then promptly puked in my shoe."

Concern punched me in the gut. "You
puked?"

"Not the point," Beth said through clenched
teeth. "Just give me my bag, and I'll be on my way. Thanks for the
best night of my life."

"Really?" I felt my face light up.

"You're such a guy. And I was being
sarcastic, Mr. Senator."

I scowled." You can call me by my name."

"Gee, how noble of you,
Mr. Senator
. I
appreciate it. Really. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to go back
home and try to forget about the catsuit, reporters, cookies,
and
—
"

"Me?" For some reason it was irritating. She
was running away. What the hell? Did she remember me at all?
Remember the kiss we'd shared? The dance? Anything? It was a damn
good kiss, and why in the hell was I obsessing over it now of all
times? What was with her? And what the hell was wrong with me? Holy
shit, I was going to have a panic attack. I gaped at Beth,
expecting her to say something like,
"Oh hey, remember that one
time you stuck your tongue down my throat? I still dream about it.
Want to have my babies?"
Okay, so maybe that was a bit
farfetched, but for shit's sake! I'd obsessed over her for years! I
was hospitalized even! The least she could do is acknowledge that
there was a past between us. That's it. Maybe even a head nod or a
blink. Wait! She was blinking, and her eyes seemed to narrow. She
did remember!

"See ya on the other side!" the insane driver
called, throwing my bag at my face before I could protest.

With that he drove off.

Leaving Beth and me staring after him with
confusion, and me wondering if Beth was going to talk about the
giant-ass elephant in the room.

I was just about to open my mouth and speak,
when I heard the daunting click-clack of heels hitting pavement.
I'd come to recognize that sound as any normal animal on the food
chain would when trying to protect itself from a predator.

I closed my eyes and waited for the footsteps
to near.

When they got louder, I prayed. I finally
understood what prayer was for. It was to ward off Grandmas in
catsuits who thought they could rap. It was to save my soul from
being possessed by her equally insane whorish grandson, and it was
to keep myself from being caught up in the Titus family saga.

For some reason.

Even though I knew I wasn't Grandma Nadine's
family.

Dread filled me to my core, suspicion turned
into paranoia. I felt it in my body, in my very bones, in my soul
if that was possible… I was her next target.

And it wasn't going to end well.

"Where is he?" The FBI agent sighed heavily.
"Just tell us where he is."

Grandma grinned. "I imagine he could be in a
great many places."

"Location, ma'am."

"Your ass."

He spit out his coffee again.

Ah, this was turning into a delightful
afternoon!

"I'm running out of patience."

"And I'm running out of lipstick. So what
else is new? Tell you what," Grandma leaned forward, "I'll make a
bet with you."

"I don't gamble, ma'am."

"Well maybe," Grandma tapped her fingernails
against the table, "it's time you did."

Beth

Grandma approached, only this time she wasn't
wearing the catsuit. Somehow she'd changed into Victoria's Secret
sweats and had magically appeared out of thin air.

"Let's go." Grandma grabbed Beth's hand.

"No." Jace stood his ground. "Listen, I
appreciate the, uh, help, Grandma, but I'm going to go at it alone,
alright? This is my home. I'm not going inside the airport only to
be tricked into boarding a plane for Vegas and getting married. I'm
not going to be part of your schemes, and I'm sure as hell not
going to allow myself to be manipulated. I saw what you did to
Jake. Hell, I participated. Not this time, Grandma."

"You're certain?" Grandma asked, a warm smile
spreading across her wrinkled but pretty face.

"Yes."

"Fine." Grandma pulled out her cell and
texted something then slipped it back into her purse. "Let's get a
Starbucks. Beth, how would you like something warm to drink?
Grandma will even slip in a bit of the vodka."

Going with Grandma meant getting away from
Jace; it also meant drinking at 7:00 a.m. But who was I to judge? I
looped my arm in hers and followed her into the airport.