Page 110 of Own the Eights Gets Married
“Are you okay?” Jordan called.
“Yeah, but why are we stopped?”
“It’s the engine. It’s completely seized,” the driver called.
The wedding frau appeared from the back of the RV.
“No, no, no! This cannot be happening!”
After the beauty experts had finished getting them nuptial-ready, they’d dropped them off in the city. But with time to spare, the wedding frau had directed the driver to make another loop before she and Jordan were to meet a pair of Bentleys, waiting in Denver near the gardens, to make their grand entrance.
“We’ll call for a car,” Hans said, from over on Jordan’s side.
“There’s no time. We’re in the foothills,” his wife replied.
The foothills?
Georgie went over to a tinted window and nearly fell over when she saw a familiar sign.
Actually, two familiar signs.
A pair of signs she’d never forget for the rest of her life: the welcome sign for Knotty Pines Resort and a cardboard sign, directing poor souls to hell on earth, otherwise known as wilderness boot camp.
“What are we doing all the way out here?” she asked.
The frau ran her hand through her asymmetrical bob. “I told the driver to go this way. It’s exactly thirty minutes from Buck and Syd’s land to the Botanic Gardens. I had everything timed perfectly.”
“What about calling up to Knotty Pines? Surely, they’d have a car to lend,” Hans offered.
Mrs. Lieblingsschatz whispered something in German that sounded like a curse. “This is the week they’re closed down for maintenance to prepare for the winter season. It’s only tradesmen and cleaning staff.”
“What about Buck and Syd? I bet they’ve got a stripped-down Hummer or a military Jeep hidden on the property in some bunker,” Jordan tried.
“No, they’re already in Florida,” the frau lamented, holding out her phone to reveal a text message along with a picture of Buck and Syd, donning tennis whites and holding champagne flutes.
“Do you think they’d mobilize the National Guard or send a flight for life helicopter?” the wedding frau mused.
“Liebchen, you can work magic with weddings, but activating the armed forces in the name of a wedding may be beyond your reach,” Hans replied.
But what were they to do?
Georgie glanced out the window as a white van rumbled down the road from Knotty Pines.
“I’ll stop that van and see if we can get a ride!” she said, heading toward the front of the RV.
“I’ll come with you,” Jordan called.
Georgie froze. “You can’t! I don’t want you to see me.”
“You’re not going out there on your own,” he answered, picking this moment to go all alpha CrossFit trainer.
“Fine, cover your eyes.”
“With my hands?” he asked.
“Yes, with your hands!” she answered, sharing an eye roll with the frau.
“What if I have to protect you from some lunatic driving around the foothills in a creepy van and, accidentally, look at you?” he pressed.
