Married This Year Page 8

  Her head snapped around. “What the hell are we doing here, George?”

  “Shhh… a few minutes and we’ll be safely on our way home.”

  “Fuck.” The words slipped out of her mouth as he got out of the car and went to stand in front of the headlights he’d left on.

  Like a scene straight out of a big-budget gangster film, two men got out of the black car. As they came to stand in the glare of the headlights, Jordan could see they both wore black suits—well-cut black suits. One of them—the driver—was larger than the other, and he bent down and peered at her as she sat in the passenger seat.

  Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

  He motioned with his arm and George came around to her side of the car and opened the door. She glared up at him, her eyes full of fear, and he held out his hand. “They want you to get out.”

  “What? Why?”

  “They like to know there’s no one hiding in the car.”

  “What does that fucking mean?” He grabbed her hand and she resisted for a moment before gathering her nerve and stepping from the car. She held her handbag tightly in front of her, so no one could see that her hands were shaking. George led her to the front of the car, and she stopped at the corner of the bonnet, refusing to take another step forward. He shrugged and let her stand there as he returned to the front.

  The driver of the SUV looked her up and down in her sparkly party dress and snorted. “Name,” he growled, and Jordan looked helplessly at George.

  “Her name is Megan Coppadge.” George spoke for her, as she remained silent.

  The driver examined her more closely, then he looked at George and barked out two words, “She drives.”

  George raised his hands in front of him. “Whatever you want, man, but she doesn’t have a driver’s licence. It’s probably better if we sit in the back.”

  “That true?” The giant was looking at her again.

  “Yes,” she stammered, “I never finished my lessons.” She smiled at him, hoping she was putting on a good act of looking pretty and vacant—playing dumb seemed to be the safest way forward.

  He looked at her for a moment as he narrowed his eyes, and her thoughts turned to how she’d felt the first time she had ever gotten in a car. If he planned to test her, she’d need to be convincing. This night was becoming scarier by the moment.

  His eyes snapped closed, and when he opened them, he’d lost interest in her. He addressed George again, “Fine. Get in the back. Not a word out of either of you.” Jordan’s eyes widened as George ushered her into the rear of the car he’d already told her he was selling. She had no idea what was going on, but she knew it was bad. Whatever he was involved in was serious, and now she was involved, too.

  The doors closed, and George squeezed her hand in the darkness. She wanted to punch him in the face, but she was too terrified to move or make a sound. She squeezed his hand tightly and imagined the black eye she’d give him if they managed to get out of this alive.

  The other car pulled out onto the street, and they followed close behind. The giant was driving the Mustang, and he didn’t say a word to them as he skilfully followed the car in front. After a few minutes, they turned into another darkened street. Halfway down the street, they slowed, and she watched as a garage door rose to their right. Once it was high enough for the SUV to slip under, both cars entered and slowly drove down an inclined driveway. Jordan turned to look as the garage door slid silently closed behind them, and her stomach rolled over in the dark. This was worse than she could have imagined.

  The darkness gave way to a large garage brightly lit from overhead fluorescents. Everywhere Jordan looked, there were expensive cars: BMWs, Mercedes, Porsches, and even a Ferrari. They passed a row of classic cars, like the Mustang they were travelling in, and the driver pulled up in front of those and ordered them both out of the car. Jordan pressed herself into the shadows, trying to make herself as unobtrusive as possible—not an easy feat when you’re wearing a black and silver dress and silver shoes made for dancing.

  She stared hard at the ground and forced herself not to look up as George was called over to several men standing in a group.

  Don’t pee yourself. Look at the ground. Don’t make yourself a problem. Don’t pee yourself. You’re going to get out of this alive. Do not pee yourself!

  She kept up a steady trail of chatter in her head, trying to convince herself that this would turn out okay, and she squeezed her eyes shut and tried to block out any sound of their conversation. She couldn’t hear any specific words, anyway, since they were murmuring while they completed their transaction. Someone grabbed her arm, and she almost screamed as she expected to see the tall driver dragging her to her death.

  It was only George, though, with a tight warning look on his face. He tugged her toward a doorway to her left, and she kept her eyes forward as she followed him, desperate to get out of this place in one piece.

  When they burst out into the street, George quickly called a taxi as they stood in the shadows. He tried to apologise to her, but she was so angry and scared that she ignored every word.

  “Please stop talking. I just want to get home. I thought you were much nicer than this when I met you at Shelly’s party.”

  “Are you sure I can’t take you for a drink to apologise?”

  “Nope. No, thank you. I want to get home, lock the front door, and feel safe again. This was a really silly place for you to bring me.”

  “I didn’t bring you here—they did.” He had the nerve to try to defend himself.

  “You,” she raised her voice as she turned on him, “dragged me into all of this and gave them a fake name for me, too. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. You are one hundred percent responsible for everything that happened tonight. I hope it was worth risking our lives for.”

  “Oh, it was.” He grinned and patted his jacket pocket, which now sported a suspicious bulge. “Hence my invitation to kick on tonight. We can make it memorable, if you’ll stick with me. I was once in love with a woman named Megan Coppadge. It was a compliment that I chose that name for you.”

  She snorted and turned away as the lights from the taxi lit up the end of the street. “You’re fucking insane. I have enough memories of this night to last me a lifetime. I guarantee that none of my future memories will include you.”

  Not even the temptation of officially being related to Shelly would convince her to see George again.

  May

  Jordan and her friends planned a big night out on the first weekend in May. She’d invited Luke, because she felt sorry for him, lying home alone on her couch with only her pooch for company. She wasn’t surprised he was single—she hadn’t known him to go on a date one time since she’d met him.

  Richard contacted her on Saturday morning and invited her for dinner, but she invited him out with her group, instead. It would be a good test to see if the others liked him as much as she did.

  “Hey, it’s great to see you.” He kissed her on the cheek and gave her a tight hug when he walked through the door of the bar. She had to close her eyes, so she could ignore Andrea and Emily making kissing signs behind his back.

  “You, too. Come and meet my friends.” She introduced him around her usual social circle. Emily had bought a date tonight, too, and Richard shook hands with Cooper as the two men were introduced.

  Richard asked Jordan to dance, and he held her hand as they made their way to the area in front of the DJ’s box. She didn’t dare look up to see who was on tonight; she could imagine Fish up there, staring down at her as she danced with Richard.

  “This is our third date, you know.” He had to raise his voice because of the music.

  “Yeah, does that seem weird to you? We met in early January—I’m not sure we’re right for each other, if we’ve only caught up three times in five months.”

  “It’s because I have to travel so much for work. I’d like to see you more often. Luckily we keep in touch by text.”

  “Ye
s, lucky.”

  When a slow song came on, they returned to the bar, and it wasn’t long before the boys were challenging each other to tequila shots. Jordan stayed well clear of the shots, drinking only wine. She hadn’t been drunk since New Year’s Eve and she wanted to keep it that way. Every time she thought of her horrific hangover the next day and the shock of waking up next to a hot stranger named Fish, she considered giving up drinking for life.

  The men, however, were keen to outdo each other. Richard, Boyd, Cooper, and Luke lined up to each take their turn as the girls watched on. Every so often, someone would give a shout before they downed the next one, and the girls would laugh as they watched him choke on the heat of the alcohol. Afterward, they’d keep chatting while the next one got himself ready.

  After three shots, Luke declared that he was out of the running as shot champion and came to sit next to Jordan. She patted his leg sympathetically and let out a loud whoop for Richard, who was getting ready to down what must have been his sixth. He slammed his glass on the bar and shook his head as he let out a shout.

  Luke rolled his eyes and leaned in close to her. “Guess there’ll be no getting lucky for you tonight—not with him, at least.”

  “Stop it, you. I didn’t come here to get lucky with Richard.”

  “Well, that’s lucky.” He laughed at all the times they’d said the word “lucky,” and she shook her head at him. The three shots had gone straight to his head, and she was interested to see that he was now drinking water.

  Richard had disappeared in the direction of the men’s room after downing the last drink, and he was gone for quite a while. Jordan was engrossed in a discussion about the validity of the list with Luke when she glanced over his shoulder and saw Richard reappear. She frowned as she tried to work out what was different about him, and she tilted her head and stared until Luke stopped talking and turned around to look, too.

  Richard swayed his way across the room, obviously heavily affected by the tequila. Around his neck, worn proudly like a necklace, was, to her absolute horror, a toilet seat. The bar was old, and Jordan recognised the wood grain seat immediately. How he’d removed it was a mystery, and why he thought it was a good idea to wear it around his neck was even more puzzling.

  The other men howled with laughter and clapped him on the back. Even Luke snickered beside her, but Jordan couldn’t think of anything, except how many germs and God knew what else might have been on that seat. She joined the girls in squealing as he came closer and demanded he return to the toilet and take it off immediately. He looked surprised at their reaction, but he lurched toward the bathroom to do as he was told.

  When he reappeared, he was most perplexed when Jordan refused to sit next to him or kiss him goodbye when it came time to leave.

  ***

  The next day, Jordan’s phone rang at three in the afternoon. She looked at the name and groaned as she answered it. “Hi, Richard,” she said in a much brighter voice than she wanted to.

  “I’m calling to apologise.”

  “Apologise for what?” she asked, feigning ignorance. Maybe he was calling about something else and didn’t even remember wrapping a urine-covered toilet seat around his head the first time he’d had the opportunity to meet her friends.

  “You know what for. The toilet seat wasn’t as funny as I thought it would be.”

  “You thought it would be funny?”

  “Well, my tequila-addled brain thought it would be.”

  “I hope you’ve showered and scrubbed yourself from head to toe.”

  He laughed, “I have—it was the first thing I did as soon as I woke up. I would have called earlier, but I was scouring my face and neck. I barely have any skin left.”

  It was her turn to laugh, and she giggled as she remembered his confused look last night when they’d sent him back to the bathroom. “That was truly the grossest thing I think I’ve ever seen.”

  “I can imagine. I hope your friends speak to me the next time I see them.”

  “Obviously you’re not particularly germ-phobic. That’s a good thing to know,” she said, thinking about how Matt, the bank teller, would have reacted to the sight of that toilet seat near Richard’s face.

  “Actually, I’m a lot funnier about germs than my performance last night would have you believe, but in some tiny corner of my brain, I remember thinking that the tequila would kill all the germs.”

  ***

  “Well, I have unusual needs.”

  “Really? That sounds terrifying.”

  “It’s really not, but women do freak out when I tell them.”

  “Well, you’ve come this far, so you might as well spit it out.” Jordan waited to hear what fresh horror her latest date was about to inflict.

  “I have a certain quirk.”

  “A quirk?”

  “Yes. I like things done to me in the bedroom.”

  “Oh.” She waited for him to go on, while wondering if she should disconnect the call by accident.

  “It’s mainstream and all that, these days.”

  “Are you talking about Fifty Shades-type of stuff? If you’re not, I have no idea where this is going.”

  “Ahh… you know about that. Good.” He seemed to perk up on the other end of the phone. “Yes, I do enjoy a small amount of spanking. I hope that won’t work against me, since I’m totally normal in every other way.”

  “Well, I guess we all have things that we enjoy.” She was frowning on her end, desperate to get off the phone and hoping he’d work it out, somehow.

  “So, how about I take you to a game of baseball? It’s a date that’s a little more unusual than the usual footy game, or the movies.”

  Unusual like you, I’m guessing.

  He’d asked her now, of course, so there was no backing out of it. “Okay. When?”

  “I’ll get tickets for Saturday afternoon if that suits you?”

  “Sounds good. Can I bring a friend with me?”

  “Of course. I’ll get three tickets and meet you at the stadium at one. I’ll send you the details as soon as the tickets are booked.

  “Okay, David. Thanks, I’ll see you then.” She hung up the phone and worried about what she’d agreed to. He seemed nice enough, had a steady job as a stockbroker, and had been nothing but polite to her.

  It can’t be any worse than the guy who took me shark diving. How much can go wrong at a baseball game?

  ***

  Emily, Cooper, and Jordan arrived a few minutes early and waited outside the entrance to the stadium. Andrea had begged off coming, so she’d had to convince Emily that she couldn’t go alone. It seemed that no one wanted to be the third wheel on a date to the baseball, so Emily had asked Cooper to come along, too, and David had been more than happy to grab an extra ticket.

  David arrived promptly at one o’clock, and he kissed Jordan on the cheek. He was handsome with chiselled cheekbones, and he joked with them all about them being featured on the kiss-cam as they made their way toward the gates. It was a warm day, and the blue sky created a perfect backdrop for the game. Once they were seated, David disappeared to get himself some food, since the others had eaten on the way to the game.

  Jordan’s phone beeped, and she smiled as she saw a text from Luke.

  I HEAR YOU’RE ON ANOTHER DATE. HOPE THERE’S NO TOILET SEATS IN SIGHT!

  She grinned and slipped it into her pocket without answering. It beeped again a moment later, and she sighed at his insistence on intruding on her date. It wasn’t him, though, but David asking her to come to the top of the stairs to help him out.

  What has he bought that he could possibly need help with?

  She climbed the stairs and saw him standing at the top. He’d removed his sweatshirt and tied it around his waist. He must have bought himself some kind of supporter gear, because there was a splash of red around his neck. As she got closer, her heart sank and her eyes told her something she didn’t want to believe.

  He’d bought two extra long liquoric
e ropes, God knew where from, and had fashioned one into a collar that now sat snugly around his neck. The second one he’d attached to the first as a kind of leash. As she stopped in front of him, he smiled and handed her the leash. She was so shocked that she put out her hand and took it, wondering what she was expected to do next.

  “Walk me to our seats?”

  “Umm… okay,” she said slowly, imagining the look on Emily’s face when she got back with her new pet in tow.

  He moved past her without an ounce of hesitation, and she followed close behind, holding the leash, but wanting the earth to swallow her up. She caught Emily’s eye as they got closer to their seats, and her friend frowned at her. She shook her head and raised a finger to her lips. This was weird, but she didn’t want to embarrass David any more than he was about to be.

  They had seats at the front row of their section, and David eagerly took his seat next to her. She wasn’t sure whether to hold the leash or drop it, but what he indicated next nearly made her fall off the edge of her seat. He wanted her to tie him to the rail in front.

  Oh God!

  Biting her lip to keep in the hysterical laugh that threatened to escape, she did as he wanted. In her pocket, she felt her phone vibrate and knew it was probably Luke stirring her even more. She wanted to pull her phone out and take a photo for him, since he’d never believe this had really happened. Emily and Cooper would vouch for her sanity afterward, though.

  The game started, and Jordan found that she did enjoy it. The crowd cheered and each round passed quickly. There were quite a few breaks where the camera went into the crowd and showed some of the most ardent supporters. At half time, there was a break, and the dreaded Kiss-Cam came out. Jordan felt a mounting sense of dread as they watched the screen. This day couldn’t get any weirder; the Kiss-Cam would only top off the most awkward experience of her life.