by A. E. Radley
“Maybe I should start a new one. I’ve never been good at keeping up with them, but it may help me get all my thoughts and feelings out about this trip, Steve, and…” I almost said about her.
“And…?” She widened her eyes eagerly.
“Life.” I opted for a safe answer, not willing to fully admit I found her intriguing. What did that mean, really? I’d just been dumped, so my mind wasn’t in the right frame of being able to make any type of decision. Although, it was difficult to ignore the friction between us. The way she looked at me, making me gooey inside. The playful banter.
Would it be horrible to sleep with her?
Was it the mulled wine?
Clearly, it wouldn’t be a wise decision.
Terrible, even.
The last thing I needed on this night already fraught with emotional turmoil.
Yet, I still wanted to.
I looked deeply into her eyes. “Uh, are you ready… to go on that ride?”
“I’m always up for a ride.” Her voice was deliciously sexy along with her smoldering eyes.
I paid for my journal. “Let’s go, then.”
Of course, there was another line, and a tiny groan escaped me. “Maybe this is why I don’t go to fairs often.”
“Don’t get discouraged. This will fly by. I grew up near Disneyland, and I’m a pro when it comes to passing time in a line that seems…” She craned her neck to scope out the number of people before us. “I’ve seen a lot worse. This will zip by.” She snapped her fingers, not making a sound due to the gloves.
“You grew up in Florida?”
She staggered back a step, smothering her heart with a hand. “You didn’t just say that. Disney World is in Florida. Disneyland, the original, is in Anaheim, California.”
“I haven’t been to that one. I love Disney World. Have you been?”
Her eyes dropped to the rubber matting, which was covered in dirt and random puddles from rain earlier in the day. “Yes.”
“Did you like it?”
“I won’t lie, I did. But, I still prefer Disneyland. I have to as a Californian, or they’ll revoke my privilege.”
“What privilege is that?”
“Being able to boast I’m from California. Although”—she leaned closer, whispering in my ear—“if the powers that be find out I don’t have a car or a driver’s license anymore, they will shun me forever.”
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and it wasn’t due to her confession but her warm breath. To cover the true feelings swirling inside, I said, “You can’t drive a car?”
“Not anymore. I lived in New York for a handful of years after college and sold my car because it was more trouble than it was worth. And I made a huge mistake not renewing my license before moving here. It’s expired, and I haven’t felt the need to get a UK one. Some of my coworkers, who are in their forties and have always lived in London, have never driven a car.”
“Never?” I said in a breathy voice I didn’t typically use.
She shook her head solemnly, not breaking eye contact.
Damn, her deep blue eyes were pulling me in, making me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
The line started to move, and it took us several seconds to close the gap, much to the annoyance of one man who grumbled, “Move it or lose it.” I was willing to bet he was from the East Coast of the US. Boston or thereabouts, judging by his Red Sox hat.
Allison motioned for me to walk ahead of her, and she stood protectively behind me, her body radiating heat and blocking the gush of wind.
We didn’t speak, quietly waiting our turn in comfortable silence.
My eyes watched the ride inch upward into the dark, cold night. The riders’ feet dangled, some kicking about as if regretting their decision.
Allison rested her chin on my shoulder. “Nervous?” she asked quietly.
I nodded. If only she knew the whole truth.
“I got you.”
I leaned into her for a brief moment, liking the way our bodies aligned. Pulling away some, I said, “I believe you.”
“Tell me a fun fact about you. To help get your mind off your impending death.” Her laughter rustled the hairs on the back of my head.
“I have a driver’s license.”
She butted my shoulder with hers, standing next to me again. “No cheating.”
I pivoted my head and stared into her deep blues. “It’s true, though.”
“Millions of Americans do. I’m looking for intel that not many know.”
“Ah, you want a secret,” I teased.
“Now you’re getting it.” She hefted her thin eyebrows in a cocky manner that caused my breath to hitch.
What was it that drew me to her like a bee to a flower?
“I need more time to think of something.”
She gripped my shoulders. “Say the first thing that comes to mind.”
“Blue.” The riders screamed as the tower plunged downward.
Allison smiled, waiting for the riders to finish the plummet, before saying, “Progress. Now, say the first secret that comes to mind.”
“Blue turns me on.”
She blinked. “The color? Or is Blue a person?”
“Uh…” How could I confess her eyes were bewitching me? “The color, I suppose. I didn’t… really put a lot of thought into the answer. It just sorta popped out.”
She didn’t have time to press since it was almost our turn. The attendant, who was dressed in all black—hopefully that wasn’t a sign of what was to come—unclipped the chain, waving the next group in after the previous riders exited. After setting our belongings down in the designated area, we worked our way around the left-hand side, selecting two side-by-side seats. We yanked the orange safety devices down over our heads, locking them into place.
Why had I insisted we ride this? I tried to peer up, but the restraint limited my scope. Was that intentional on the part of the designers? “Jingle Bell Rock” blared over the speakers. Riders on the roller coaster nearby squealed as the carriages peeled around a bend.
Everyone was locked and loaded, and the attendant reclipped the chain.
There was a hitch, and then we were off in a painfully slow manner, which flipped the switch on my Why in the fuck did I sign up for this? meter.
I turned my head to see Allison looking zen-like.
Maybe sensing my eyes on her, she flashed me a confident smile to bolster my nerve.
I couldn’t.
Kicking my legs, I started to chant, “I want off. I want off. I want off.”
“You got this, Dagny!” Allison shouted for me to hear.
My hands gripped the orange harness for dear life. “No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do.”
The ride stopped.
Had the man down below heard my pleas? Or the dude upstairs?
Nothing happened for many moments.
Then we dropped, and I screamed my head off while we hurtled toward the ground, all the lights and sounds blurring into one massive disaster.
“We’re going to die!”
CHAPTER 3
Allison helped me out of my seat, catching me when I stumbled into her arms. “Easy? You okay?”
“That was a-ma-zing!” I glanced up to see how far we’d dropped.
Allison laughed. “And you didn’t die. Come on. He doesn’t look friendly.” She jerked her head to the guy prepping for the next load. She swept our stuff off the ground, while simultaneously leading us to the exit.
Once away from the crowds, I yanked on her arm. “Let’s do it again.”
“We can if you’d like, but first, I need the loo.”
“Now that you mention it.” My legs pressed together, the need for a toilet increasing with rapid emergency.
On tippy toes, Allison scouted for our salvation. “Over there!” She gestured to the right.
The line for the gray pods housing a handful of toilets was blissfully short.
“You first.” Allison g
ently shoved me to the stall an older woman had vacated.
It wasn’t the worst toilet I’d ever used, but there was no way my skin was going to touch the splattered seat. Assuming the hover position I’d mastered over the years, I released, feeling the euphoria of the ride literally flushing down the toilet. I giggled.
When I finished, I couldn’t stop giggling.
Had the ride knocked something lose in my head?
At the sink, I washed my hands, opting to dry them on the back of my jeans. While I waited outside for Allison, along with a handful of men, the giggle attack seemed to gain steam.
She sidled up next to me. “What’d I miss?” She gawked to the left and right, searching for the source.
“N-nothing.” I cradled my chest with my arms in hopes of smothering the attack.
“Then why are you laughing?”
“I have no idea.” My body shook. “I-I can’t stop,” I said through the giggles.
“Right. It’s a little-known fact mulled wine is the antidote to madness.” She ensured I was onboard by staring deeply into my eyes and then saying, “Follow me!”
Her impression of a knight slaying a dragon for a damsel in distress made me giggle even more.
As if reading my mind, she said, “Stay here, Princess Dagny.” She positioned me at another roaring fire before dashing off for the giggle cure.
Trying to curb the attack by sucking my lips into my mouth, I struggled for breath. It wouldn’t stop, and a burst of laughter burbled from me like I was an escapee from Bedlam.
A man and woman made eye contact and then casually slipped away.
That was one perk of people thinking you were mad, I supposed.
“Your Viking Blood, Princess.” Allison handed off the drink.
“B-blood?”
She laughed. “That’s what they call it, and there’s an extra kick in it.”
I sipped it, tasting the added flavor, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. Or taste buds. “W-what’s in it?”
“I told you. Blood.” Her voice sounded like Count Dracula, and she showed her teeth vampire-like.
I couldn’t see the effect that had on me, but I sensed all the color drained from my face.
“You see. It worked. You aren’t giggling anymore.” Concern etched in the corners of her eyes. “The question is, are you breathing? Is your heart still ticking?”
I continued to gape at her.
“Mental note, never tease about blood around you. You’re a sensitive serial killer.” She winked. “There’s a shot of whiskey, and I think the traditional spelling is with one O, but that’s not much fun for marketers.”
I took another sip, needing the warmth. “It’s getting colder, and I didn’t think that possible.”
“Move closer to the fire.”
I did, but it wasn’t helping. To make matters worse, it had started to drizzle lightly. “Will it snow, you think?”
“That would be a true London Christmas miracle. Since I moved here, it’s only snowed twice, and each time, it didn’t stick.” She eyed the sky. “Unfortunately, I think the heavens are about to open and lash down.”
“That seems like a sign.”
“For?”
“Time to leave.”
Her crooked smile was tempting. “What about the tower ride? Don’t you want to plunge into another fit of giggles?”
“Ha!” Smooth, Dagny. “I’m thinking about plunging into a nice bottle of whiskey. Steve has a ridiculously expensive bottle in the room. What do you say?”
Her smile spread. “Are you inviting me back to your hotel room?”
“Are you accepting?”
With an index finger, she tapped her chin, which had a hint of a dimple. “I’m still slightly concerned you may be a serial killer. So, there’s that. But, there’s also a ridiculously expensive whiskey on offer.” She joggled her hands in the air, weighing the risks to rewards ratio.
“I have the same dilemma, because I’m not sure—” I jammed my finger into her upper arm, surprised by the firmness. “How much do you work out?”
With a hand on her heart, she confessed, “I’m a gym rat. It’s how I handle work stress, and if I don’t go at least five days a week, I may in fact start killing people. And to make sure I get out all my aggression, I’ve hired a personal trainer who used to be in the military. He doesn’t take no for an answer.”
“We’re back to the theory you may kill me.”
“I only ever want to kill coworkers. The stupid ones. So, you’re safe with me.”
“Oh, wow. That’s a terrible pickup line for a serial killer.”
“We seem to be at an impasse.” Her blue eyes sparkled. “Shall we flip a coin? Leave it up to fate?”
We stood near the basketball challenge that seemed to be prominently featured at all carnival type events I’d ever attended. “How confident are you in your hoops skills?”
Allison followed my eyes. “Full disclosure, I played in college.”
“Which school?”
“Harvard.”
I dipped my head. “Impressive academically. Not so much when it comes to the NCAA. If you’d said UCONN, I’d really be worried. Do you accept the challenge?”
“I have to defend my honor!” Allison slipped her gloves off, shed her coat, handed everything to me, and marched to the available hoop. “Not only will I gain entry to your room, I’m going to win you one of the minions. Every girl should have a three-foot minion for Christmas.”
I scoffed. “Because every girl wants to lug that home on a plane.”
Her eyes darkened, but it was difficult to pin down the reason. She paid and received three basketballs to shoot. “Just so you know, these games are rigged, but they didn’t take me into account.” She spun the ball on a fingertip.
I was willing to bet the hoop rim and balls weren’t up to regulations. As if that wasn’t enough, behind the hoops were obnoxious red and white stripes, and Frosty the Snowman, a moose with red and white striped legs, minions, and other stuffed animals hung from the top and down the sides of each hoop. Talk about sensory overload.
She cracked her neck side to side, raised her arms, and released. “Yeah baby! Nothing but net.”
“Lucky shot. You still have two more.”
The second was the same.
She cradled the last ball in the crook of her right arm. “Because I’m a good person, I’m going to give you a chance to rescind the challenge. If you don’t want to honor your end of the deal, I totally understand.”
“That’s very honorable of you.” I glared at her with what I hoped was the right amount of ridicule and humor. “Or, are you scared the first two buckets were flukes?”
“You have three seconds to decide.” She tossed the ball back and forth in her hands, appearing overly confident.
“I’m not rescinding anything. Do your best, Harvard.” I exaggerated the pronunciation of Harvard in hopes of sounding like a true Bostonian.
Allison prepped for the shot, rolling her shoulders and planting her feet. When the ball left her hands, her face fell. The ball bounced up on the back of the rim, bobbled along the rim, and then miraculously wobbled through the hoop.
I laughed.
She turned, her cocksure smile firmly back in place. “It wasn’t pretty, but mission accomplished.” She turned to confirm with the attendant to claim the minion prize.
I handed over her jacket and gloves, which she promptly wiggled back into.
Another burst of wind whipped my dark locks into my eyes, followed by sleeting rain that dug into my flesh like stingers. Allison, using the newly won minion as an umbrella of sorts, pulled me close to her, shielding me from the worst of the weather.
“Follow me.” I waved her on.
We joined the throng of visitors who’d had enough of braving the elements for the sake of the holiday. Exiting on the Serpentine side, I steered us around the top of the water to the south side of the park and the street leading to the hotel.
The golden glow of the glass entrance was a welcome sight when I rounded the corner.
The doorman, seeing us heading right for him, hurriedly opened the door, barely able to say a word as we rushed into the lobby, the beige tile marred by puddles of water and yellow Caution: Wet Floor warning signs. I steered us to the left, to the bank of elevators, pressing the button many times.
“It doesn’t make it come any faster,” Allison teased. She shook water droplets off the minion. “Poor thing. What a way to be welcomed to the family.”
“Uh, yeah, I know. About the elevator… I mean,” I mumbled as my brain cleared some. Steve had said he’d get a different room or hotel, but did he? It was Christmas Eve? How easy would it be to get a different room? Or had he booked a spare just in case? That would be so like him if he’d suspected he’d break things off.
“You okay?”
I nodded, hugging my chest. “Just cold and wet.”
The elevator pinged, the doors sliding open. I stepped inside, but Allison hesitated.
Sticking my head out, I asked, “You coming?”
“Is it okay for me to come upstairs?”
Apparently, she’d been able to read my inner thoughts, yet again. It was freaky.
“I don’t want to cause any trouble, and now that you’re here safe and sound, I can catch a cab back to my place.” She held the minion out to me.
“I’m not going to kick you out, sopping wet, on Christmas Eve.” I pulled her into the elevator, both of us stumbling into the glass.
The doors shut, and the elevator climbed upward.
And upward.
“What does your boyfriend do?”
“My ex-boyfriend, you mean. He’s a sportscaster.”
She whistled. “A highly paid one, I’m guessing.”
The elevator doors eased open, revealing an empty hallway.
We stepped out.
“My room is down the hall. Would you mind… waiting here, just in case…?” I shrugged away the awkwardness.