Page 10 of Menace in Vegas

Desperate, I slowly reach into my wallet, pull out a stack of twenties, and slide them across the counter.

“Does this change your answer?”

She blinks at the money. “Are you bribing me?”

“No,” I lie. “I’mmotivationally encouragingyou.”

“I can’t accept that.”

I push it closer. “Sure you can. Just imagine it’s a… really generous tip.”

She sighs and pushes it back. “Sir, you can’t tip your way onto a full flight.”

I lean in. “What if I cry? Would that help?”

She just stares at me.

I sigh and drag myself away before airport security gets involved, heading back to a smirking Allie.

Her smug, infuriating grin is like karma in lip gloss, destroying my entire goddamn day.

She tilts her head. “Did you seriously try to bribe the gate agent?”

“It was sixty bucks,” I mutter. “I was panicking.”

She snorts. “Wow. Big spender. No wonder she turned you down.”

I scowl and keep walking.

She practically skips behind me, way too pleased with herself. “I also heard you tell her to strap us to the wing.”

I glare at her. “It was a reasonable suggestion.”

Allie scoffs. “You’re delusional if you think I’m clinging to a wing with you for five hours. I’d rather walk to Vegas.”

I mutter under my breath, “You wouldn’t last ten minutes without me on the wing.”

She gasps. “I hope that rental car has a trunk. Because that’s where you’re riding.”

I throw her a murderous look. The rage inside me is at maximum capacity.

My team is gone. My flight is gone.

Hell, even Gram and her flask are gone.

I’m seconds away from making a scene in this airport.

I take a deep breath, flex my hands, and exhale through my nose like I’m in anger management therapy.

This is fine. I can handle this.

We’ll get a rental car and drive to Vegas.

I’ll ignore the fact that Allie kissed me like a goddamn fever dream at Ford and Harper’s reception.

Simple and easy, right?

Wrong.

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