Page 42 of The Amazing Date

I close my eyes, wishing my eyelids would shut out the sound of their laughter. Because I’m a glutton for punishment, I turn to see them high-five each other as they read the next race clue. They skip directly toward us, and I rise, clenching my hands into fists.

“Hope you don’t fall asleep on this next leg of the race.” Caitlin shoots us a crooked smirk.

Kelly wraps her hands around Caitlin’s shoulder and whispers something, causing another round of giggles. Her green eyes widen with excitement. “Roberto, when you get the zoo photos, can you email a copy to us? And my parents said calligraphy class would never come in handy. I think I nailed Wilma’s signature perfectly. I can’t believe you fell for that.”

I step forward, the edge of my vision turning red. Roberto’s strong grip on my forearms prevents me from chasing after them. “Let them go,” he whispers and leads me back to the bench. “There has to be a rule against falsifying race clues. Let me tell the staff, and they’ll be penalized.”

I pull on his arm. “Wait.” He turns, a look of weariness and defeat on his face. “Don’t tattle.”

“Tattle? What are you? Twelve?” He runs a hand through his jumbled mess of hair. “They’ve cost us a night of rest. Not to mention what we were set to do before opening that damn envelope. I’m tired. I’m tired of the games. And now I’m pissed. They have to pay. Tell me you disagree?”

I place my hand on his chest. His heart is pounding like Laredo’s drum kit. “Yes, I’m upset. And they will pay, but…”

“But what? Maybe Wilma will kick them out of the race for this.”

I have to calm him down. The last time I saw Roberto upset, I was the cause. His rant caused me to act on impulse, one I’ve regretted every day since. This time will be different. “Not like that. We can’t go running to Wilma to fix our problems. They want to play like this, then let’s meet them on their level. I want to see them fail, but I want to be the one to bring the pain. When they lose, I want them to know it was us. That we defeated them. Do you get that?” The beat of his heart begins to slow and return to normal. I pull him down to the bench. “Now rest. Let’s enjoy the last few minutes before we’re due on the mat.”

His arm wraps around me, and I lower my head to his shoulder. “I still don’t understand how you can be so calm.” His warm lips land on the top of my head as I close my eyes.

I know he’s not going to rest. The injustice of this moment is going to gnaw at him for the next hour. That’s who he is. Me, I won’t have an issue falling asleep. I don’t like injustice either, but I know I can put it in a box on my checklist to be picked up later.

Roberto is slow to anger, but when he does, he runs white-hot, that ember burning bright until the deed is done. Over the last few years, I’ve learned to modulate, to not react in the moment. I make note of misdeeds and plan a cool, calculated response like an ice-cold assassin. The fact that they’ve pissed us both off means they’ve stirred up the worst combination for them. We’re fire and ice, and we are both pointed in their direction.

Chapter 26

Roberto

I flick the volume button on the steering column and lower Leslie Grace, who is singing a promise to love me tomorrow. I glance over to the passenger seat and smile. Rylee is curled up, her head pressed against the window, knees pulled up to her chest, sleeping.

We stepped to the mat an hour after the blondes and received our clue. Beautiful Mount Rainier in Washington State. The race provided the rental cars. When we checked in town for directions, we were warned there would be traffic, but this is ridiculous. For the last forty minutes, I’ve barely driven over fifteen miles an hour. At this rate, we won’t make it to the mountain until midnight.

I stick my head out the window, hoping the breeze will knock some of the sleep out of me. I need coffee. “Enough of this,” I whisper to myself and flick the signal to exit. Half a mile back, there was a sign for Ma’s diner. It claimed best breakfast in Washington State. We both could use some food, but more importantly, they will have caffeine. Rylee won’t appreciate the detour, but she’s in a deep sleep. If the diner is empty, I can sneak in an order to go and be back on the road before she wakes, none the wiser.

Hand-painted Ma’s diner signs dot the road and direct us well off the beaten path. I finally spot it a full three miles from the interstate. It’s a run-down fifties diner that has seen better days. The parking lot only contains three cars. I pull close to the entrance, a position that will allow me to keep an eye on a sleeping Rylee from the counter. I leave the car running with Leslie Grace serenading Rylee with “Que Sera.” What will be will be indeed.

I push through the glass door, the bell above announcing my presence. The smell of coffee and sizzling bacon assaults me. One glance around the interior of the diner relaxes me. The diner looks recently renovated with a sparkling countertop, bright cherry leather booths, and spotless floors.

“Welcome.” A throaty voice coming through the swing doors from the kitchen causes me to turn. An older white lady with white hair under a hair net carrying two plates of pancakes and bacon nods in my direction. “Grab a seat wherever you wish.”

I nod and step to the counter. “I’m going to get it to go,” I state and turn to check on Rylee. I take a deep sigh, pleased to see her still in the same position. My gaze whips to the pot of coffee on the other side of the counter, and I fight the urge to climb over it to pour a cup.

A hand lands on my shoulder, and a menu is slapped down on the counter in front of me. I turn and am surprised to see Ronnie. His bright, wide-eyed smile lets me know he is both surprised and pleased to see me. “One look at this and I promise you’re going to want to stay.”

“Ronnie!” I shout, surprised at how happy I am to see a friendly face.

He pulls me into a side hug and waves an arm toward a table in the corner of the diner. His wife, Thelma, waves a fork in my direction before digging back into her meal.

“Where’s your better half?” he asks.

I jerk my head toward the parking lot. “She’s…” I spot her moving. Her head rises, a confused look on her face as she twists and turns. She spots me through the window. “Was sleeping.”

“Good, come join us. You have to hear what we found out.” Ronnie taps me on the shoulder once again and strides back to his wife. I turn at the chiming of the bell.

“What the hell, Roberto. Are we lost?” Her voice is still scratchy, her tired eyes telling me the nap did little for her.

I shake my head. “We needed caffeine, and the interstate is bumper-to-bumper. It’s going to take us six hours at the pace it’s moving. Look who’s here.” I point to the corner of the diner, hoping to deflect her attention from me.

She waves it away. “Great. They were stupid enough to stop for a meal in the middle of a race. We’ve caught up with them, now we can pass them. Let’s go.”

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