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The Wager - Dyken Rachel Van - Страница 12


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Beth sighed. “Really? I just listed the periodic table of elements and you want to hear more?”

Snorting, Char leaned forward. “No wonder I blacked out.”

“Where are you tonight? It’s girls’ night! Remember? Food? Drinks? Fun?”

Oh you know. Exactly where every other girl’s brain would be. Kissing Jake, touching his muscular chest, running her tongue along his plump bottom lip and—

“Did someone say girls’ night?” A familiar voice shot through the restaurant. Char turned and came face to face with Grandma. Well, Grandma and a blinding gold jacket with leopard fur around the collar. Her skinny jeans were accentuated that much more by matching leopard heels.

“How did you—”

“Oh.” Grandma waved off Char and took a seat at the table. “There’s an app for everything. Did you know that?”

“Yes but—”

“Anyways.” Grandma waved over a waiter and ordered three shots of tequila. The woman better be drinking those alone; no way was Char going to take shots with Jake’s grandmother! “There’s this handy little app called find a friend!”

Char grabbed her phone. “I didn’t even know I had that on my phone or that you were—”

Grandma shrugged as if she was keeping a big giant secret. “It’s how I keep track of Jake’s whores.”

Beth spit out her drink all over the table and began coughing.

Grandma yawned and examined her nails, totally unaffected by Beth’s outburst. Char gave her sister a glare and turned back to Grandma.

“I’m pretty sure they created that app so people wouldn’t worry about their friends and family. You know, not stalk people.”

“Oh well, to each his own.” Grandma set her phone down and clicked on the screen with one finger, and then clicked again, and again.

Beth mouthed something to Char; she couldn’t make it out.

The waiter dropped off the shots just as Grandma jerked back and clapped. “I knew it!”

Beth seemed to be in a trance as she watched Grandma clap her hands and thrust her phone into the air. “He’ll be here soon.”

Who are you again?” Beth asked.

“I’m Grandma.” This was stated so normally, so factually, that Char had to hand it to Grandma. I mean, was there any other way to describe the woman? Saying “I’m Grandma” must have covered a multitude of sins. “Cheers.” Grandma reached for a shot and lifted it into the air then eyed both Char and Beth.

Taking a big gulp of water, Char reached for the shot and lifted it into the air with Grandma.

“A toast,” Grandma said. “To singing at my grandson’s wedding!”

“Sure.” Beth clinked her glass with Grandma’s. “I’ll drink to that.”

Char shrugged and took the shot. Just as Jake walked into the restaurant and made a beeline for their table.

Char was no stranger to shots—not at all. But for some reason the way Jake’s distressed jeans hugged his muscular thighs did something to her. The tequila burned all the way down and then threatened to come back up, especially when he winked in her direction and leaned down to kiss his grandmother on the cheek.

Char coughed.

Beth sighed.

Char kicked her sister underneath the table.

And Grandma ordered more shots.

“Um.” Char laughed nervously. “Are we celebrating anything?”

“Ladies’ night!” Grandma announced, shaking her chest back and forth in glee.

Jake looked away and blushed.

Strange that a man who had no morals actually knew how to blush?

“But Jake’s here.” Char pointed to the sinfully wonderful-smelling man and prayed he’d lean in just a bit closer so she could feel the heat radiating off his body without looking like a lunatic in heat.

Grandma looked her grandson up and down. “He doesn’t count.”

“Thanks, Grandma.” Jake said tightly.

“Hi. I’m Beth.” Char’s sister reached across the table to shake Jake’s hand. “I would have said hi to you on the plane but you were all swollen.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

“Any time.” She winked. “Welcome to girls’ night.”

“Famous last words, I’m sure.” Jake took her hand in his and shook it, then turned to his grandmother. “Okay, so by the looks of your outfit, you didn’t get run over by a truck, nor are you suffering from a concussion or scarlet fever—that was a new one, by the way. “Jake directed the last part to Char. “Usually she saves the rare diseases for someone more gullible, like my brother.” He turned back to Grandma. “What gives?”

Grandma held up her finger and then began digging in her giant purse.

Jake swore. “I’m sure there are lost children in that purse. Can you just tell us so we don’t have to wait?”

Grandma shushed him.

Jake took two shots off the table and downed them.

Char patted him on the back, poor guy. She did truly have half a mind to feel sorry for him. Grandma would drive anyone to drink excessively.

“Here it is!” Grandma pulled out a slip of paper and with a shaky hand began reading it. “You both still need to complete a few of the things on the list I gave you earlier, by the way.” She dropped the list onto the table. “Where is it?”

She dug around her purse again and pulled out a pair of diamond-encrusted reading glasses.

“Your mind?” Jake asked. “Maybe it’s in your purse.”

Beth cleared her throat to hide her laugh.

“No, you ass,” Grandma seethed.

Char ordered more drinks. Cursing. Not good.

“The list I gave you and Char this morning! It had all those tasks on it for you to complete for the wedding. Where is it?”

“In the car,” Jake said, just as Char said, “We lost it.”

They glared at one another.

“I’ll just be—” Beth rose from the table.

“Sit!” Char yelled.

Beth sat.

“Jake has it.” Char pointed to Jake and gave him a sweet smile.

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he leaned on the table and took a few deep breaths. “Right, it’s… safe.”

“Safe.” Grandma snorted. “Fine, just be sure to finish the last few tasks.”

“Why can’t you do it?” Jake asked. “You’re retired; can’t you just… run around in one of my cars and get the errands done?”

Grandma paused, taking great care in her breathing. Then she turned her head ever so slightly in Jake’s direction. A frozen smile appeared on her face before she carefully picked up the list and stuffed it in her purse. “If you weren’t such an ass you would know. I have bridge with the girls.”

“Every day?” Jake asked.

“Every day. At least…” Grandma chuckled, seeming to remember her good humor. “In the mornings.”

“Great. So you can finish the tasks in the evenings.”

“Oh, Jake.” She patted his arm. “You innocent little thing.”

It was Char’s turn to choke on her drink.

“The evening is for different… activities.”

“Good Lord, at least try to hide the fact that you’re out… doing things.”

“What things?” Beth asked suddenly, leaning across the table.

“Don’t worry about it.” Jake glared at Beth and shook his head.

Grandma tittered. “You know, things.” She took great care pronouncing “things”, as if there was some very important underlying meaning to the word, and then began to chuckle to herself all over again. “I do love the evenings, yes I do.” Her eyes took on a glassy appearance.

“We’re going to need more alcohol,” Char whispered under her breath to Jake.

“And a roofie,” Jake added. “I don’t want to remember this conversation. Ever.”

“Tomorrow.” Grandma pushed away from the table and stood. “Jake, take me home. I’m tired. But tomorrow you will meet Char, say… for lunch, at the house? And finish up the rest of the list before we board the plane Thursday.”

“Thursday?” Both Jake and Char yelled.

Grandma squinted. “But of course! You have to be early for the wedding by a week at least! Whatever is wrong with young people these days!” She pulled a fifty from her purse and slammed it onto the table. “You have fun, girls. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

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Dyken Rachel Van - The Wager The Wager
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