Page 8 of The Amazing Date

I turn and shoot her a glare that shuts her down. “That’s my sister.” I march over to Gabby and reach for her elbow. A small hand smack mine away. Rylee.

“She’s got it. She doesn’t want to be babied,” Rylee snarks, squeezing between me and Gabby.

“Like hell she does.” I push past her and hold Gabby by the elbow, allowing her to take some pressure off her bad leg. “Why aren’t you in the wheelchair?” I growl. “The nurse said…”

“Rylee is my nurse now. I can walk, Roy. I’m not doing anything stupid. I want to be here for the welcome night events without everyone staring at the girl in the wheelchair.”

I steady her until she reaches my barstool. “Hey, everyone. Caitlin, Kelly, this is my sister, Gabriella.” Everyone exchanges waves when I feel another tug on my elbow.

“I guess I’m just goddamn invisible.” Flame-filled eyes greet me, a look I’m getting way too accustomed to. “I’m Rylee, this dumbass’s race partner. And before you ask, yes, he’s available. Have at it.”

I grind my foot into the floor. The woman is infuriating. She marches to the far end of the bar, chasing down the bartender while my gaze lingers on her. She’s changed into a modest, egg-white, linen sundress that falls below her knees. She’s changed her hairstyle from the earlier ponytail, her sandy-brown hair now free flowing across her shoulders. She talks to the bartender, unaware she is standing directly in front of a set of floor to ceiling length windows. Her back faces me, the bright spotlight of the sun streams through the window acting like an X-ray. The contours of her body are easily seen through the sheer material, her wonderful long legs and curves dredging up memories I thought I had buried long ago.

Legs wrapped around my waist, back pressed against the cold concrete wall of Fort Capron, lips pressed against mine, lost in an undeniable passion in the protective bubble that lets us think we are capable of anything. No restraints.

I’m so fucked. There is no way I will survive the next week.

The sound of laughter pulls me back to the present. The duo of blondes is assessing the competition. Caitlin leans into me. “On second thought, you may stand a better chance with your sister. Catch you later, lover boy.” Caitlin floats me a wink and smile. “Thanks for the drink. I’ll buy you the next one once you guys are eliminated.”

I nod and bite my tongue. At this rate, it’ll be all chewed up in a matter of days. Even a blind man can see Rylee and I are no match. I turn to face Gabby, who is covering her face with her hand.

I grunt in her direction. “What?”

She bursts into laughter. I’m pleased my pain is providing laughter to so many people. Rylee has been in town for less than six hours, and already I’m a goddamn laughingstock.

Chapter 7

Rylee

This should be a dream come true, but it’s quickly turning into a nightmare I can’t wake up from. Knowing for the past three months Gabby and I would be together tonight fueled me through all the late nights at the office, through the lonely weekends in the city. Two years in New York, and I’ve barely scratched out a social life, unless you count being on a first-name basis with just about the entire roster of Uber Eats delivery drivers.

Most days it doesn’t bother me because I’ve been working on my master plan. I slowly chipped away at Gabby’s objections. I know she is miserable in her job in Chicago; it slips into our conversations. An awkward mention of notifying the IRS about her , hoping he gets jailed. Her truth slipping out after a midnight glass of wine which she sips after finishing yet another an audit for a client she dislikes. A frustrated mumble of the lack of challenges on her assignments.

This competition would change things. After spending a week together, she’d remember how we conquered the world together. The happiest times of our lives. She just needs to be reminded.

Then I’d convince her to apply for positions in New York. I’ve already lined up three recruiters for her. All I need is for her to press Send on her resume, and the offers will start to pour in. I had no idea until I started my research how many accounting firms there are. She could have picked anywhere to work, but her stubborn need to stand as an independent woman made her stay in Chicago. This race, however, is the masterstroke that will change all of this. At least it was.

Thanks to her brother, she’s unable to compete. To make matters worse, she is insisting I enter the competition with Roberto. He’s unprepared, we don’t work well together, and we are destined to be the embarrassment of what is looking like a strong field.

We are sitting in the ballroom of the Marriot; two large round tables dominate the front of the room, three teams at our table, including us, and two on the other. Five teams in total. Just being selected is huge. Teams must complete a hundred-question application along with a five-minute video and an essay. Gabby and I spent weeks polishing every word before pressing Submit. When we received news of our selection, I took it as a sign the hands of fate were finally tipping back in our direction.

Outside of the teams, the rest of the room contains the competition support staff wearing polo shirts with the black-and-gold It Takes Two logo across their chest, interns, game coordinators, a security team, medical team, sponsors, social media influencers, press, and a host of other technicians and photographers.

I’m seated next to Gabby, who, despite her condition, seems in good spirits. Seated across from us are twin brothers and a short redhead. Of course, Roberto sits next to the redhead, their thighs touching, even though there is more than enough room at the table for them to spread out. He appears content and pleased to speak to someone other than me. A twinge of petty jealousy races through me, and I don’t fight it.

“Excuse me, did you say you weren’t competing?” I direct the question to the pipsqueak redhead with the pixie cut.

“Oh, hey.” Her voice is gravelly, as if she is a former smoker. I’m sure Roberto finds that sound irresistible. Why do I care? “I’m Hailey. That’s right—I’m here to see my two brothers off.”

With their mention, the twin brothers turn in my direction. “Talking about us?” the clean-shaven brother asks. “I’m Adam.” He leans across the table and takes my hand. He’s white, late twenties, wearing an aqua polo shirt and tan khakis. His ocean-blue eyes radiate warmth, and he reminds me of a ridiculously hot college teaching assistant I crushed on freshman year.

“Yeah, it’s Hailey’s version of a time-out.” The second brother stands. If his twin is Clark Kent, he is Lex Luthor. He’s tall, with long dark hair that reaches past his shoulders and arms full of tattoos. His deep voice hints at trouble and destruction. My specialty according to Roberto. “Laredo.”

“Please behave before I tell the girls your real name, Laredo.” Hailey scoffs. “This is the boys’ last chance,” Hailey begins, and our ears perk up. “We’re all siblings and have a band called Bluer Collar. We’re great on stage, but off it, these two can’t seem to ever be on the same page. The constant bickering and fighting—it’s exhausting. They have a week to get their shit together, or the band is history. They need me more than I need them.”

Applause rings out next to me, Gabby cheering on this mighty sprite of a woman. “I hear you,” she extols.

“We’ll win, even if I have to lie, cheat, and steal,” Laredo pledges right in front of us.

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