Thirty-Three and a Half Shenanigans

by Denise Grover Swank

  He laughed despite himself. “I think you just saved me from a nasty divorce.”

  She pointed her finger at him. “And don’t forget the alimony.”

  “True enough. If you weren’t as drunk as a sailor on shore leave, I’d buy you a free drink. Is your mother really that scary?”

  Her eyes widened in horror. “Worse.” She grabbed her water and drained it.

  “So what are you going to do?”

  She shrugged. “Tell her, I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “It might be a really, really short trip.” She gave him a conspiratorial smile. “She’s picking me up from the airport. I can just tell her when she picks me up. Shoot, I didn’t even need to pack my two suitcases.”

  “It might not be so bad,” he volunteered. “She’ll understand. I can’t imagine a mother would want her daughter to marry a lying, cheating bastard.”

  She pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nope. She can’t get her deposits back. She warned me last fall when I told her I told her about my engagement.” She looked up at him. “She was pissed. She said Jay should have asked Dad for my hand in marriage, as if it were some kind of business transaction. And the fact that I’d dated him for two years without ever bringing him home. Well…that pissed her off too.”

  “So why not catch a flight to KC to introduce them?” He could only imagine how pissed his mother would be if he got engaged to a woman she’d never met.

  She sighed. “Jay could never get away. And honestly, I’ve only been home once in four years. I didn’t want him to meet them.”

  “So they were basically going to meet him on the way to the chapel? I can understand why she’d be pissed.”

  The woman gave him a frustrated glare. “Really, Mr. McMillan? I saved you from the single greatest mistake of your life—Future Mrs. McMillan up there—and you turn on me just like that?” She tried to snap her fingers, but she fumbled with them several times before giving up.

  He grinned. “When you put it that way… I’m still not surprised your mother was pissed.”

  “Well, it wasn’t going to be like that. That’s why we were coming today, so my family could spend an extra couple of days getting to know him.”

  “Wow.” He lifted his hands off his lap. “A whole couple extra days to meet their new son-in-law.”

  “You don’t know my family. And the whole thing’s moot. He’s history and my mother has to cancel a twenty-five thousand dollar wedding without getting a single penny back.” She took several shallow breaths and Josh realized she was about to cry.

  “Hey! Maybe she can get a refund on some of it.”

  She sniffled, reaching to the floor for her purse, but the seatbelt across her lap kept it out of reach, while also protecting her from falling out of the seat and onto her head—the real danger.

  “Here let me get that for you,” Josh said, already unlatching his belt. He leaned forward and grabbed the bag and set it in her lap.

  She pulled out a package of tissues, struggling to pull one loose from the plastic.

  He reached over and tugged it out and handed it to her.

  She blew her nose, a noisy sound, then looked up at him. “Do you want to know the worst part?”

  Ordinarily, he wouldn’t. He’d be looking for the first opportunity out of this crazy conversation. But God help him, he was genuinely curious when he asked, “What?”

  “That she’s going to say, ‘I told you so.’” Tears filled her eyes.

  “Maybe she won’t. Families surprise you sometimes.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t know my mother.”

  There was no doubt about it, she was in a difficult position, and he wasn’t sure how to respond. But her alcohol-induced ADHD kicked in and she started digging through her bag again. “Where is it?”

  “What are you looking for? Maybe I can help.”

  “Tina lied. She swore that Dramamine would keep me from feeling sick, but I feel like I’m about to puke.”

  “Dramamine?”

  “Maybe I should take more.”

  He grabbed her bag and pulled it from her. “You took Dramamine? When?”

  “When I was boarding the plane. The last time I flew, I got sick when the plane hit turbulence. I didn’t want that to happen again.”

  “How many drinks have you had?”

  “Only two,” She said, looking indignant, then looked sheepish. “Plus yours.”

  “That’s two and a half too many. You can’t drink with Dramamine.” He reached over his head and pushed the call light. The flight attendant appeared within seconds and he found himself mentally calling her the almost-future Mrs. McMillan. “Can I get more water for…” he looked at the nearly incapacitated woman, realizing he didn’t even know her name.

  “Megan,” she offered.

  “…for Megan. She’s not feeling well.”

  The flight attendant looked disgusted. “Is she drunk?”

  “No. She just needs water.”

  The woman released an exasperated sigh and spun on her heels.

  “She’s pissed at you, you know,” Megan mumbled, leaning back in the seat. “She’s jealous.”

  “Let her be,” he grumbled. “Didn’t you know you shouldn’t drink with Dramamine?”

  “No.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against the window.

  The flight attendant brought the water and handed it to Josh, who took it without giving her a glance.

  “Megan, why don’t you drink more water before you take a nap.” He looked back at the attendant, who stood in the aisle watching. “Can you bring her blanket?”

  She stomped away, returning with the blanket a few moments later. By then he’d coaxed Megan to drink more water. He leaned her seat back and spread the blanket over her as she literally passed out. He watched the rise and fall of her chest. As long as she was breathing okay, he figured she’d be fine. He considered telling Tiffany what was going on, but he didn’t expect much sympathy. Megan was right. The flight attendant was jealous.

  He was about to engage in the biggest fight of his life, so how did taking care of this woman become his top priority? The only thing he knew was that it felt right.

  Chapter Three

  Josh spent the rest of the flight worried about the woman next to him, so much so he had trouble focusing on his own troubles. How was he going to get proof that Bart Vandemeer’s firm stole the plans? It wasn’t like they were just going to hand over the information willingly. He hoped that fate intervened and did him a solid.

  Soon the plane was making its descent and Megan snored softly next to him, still out of it as the plane landed with a hard thud on the tarmac. He pulled out his phone and turned it on, finding two missed calls and a text from his brother before returning it into his pocket. His brother was the last thing he needed to deal with right now. After all, this whole mess was indisputably Noah’s fault.

  He turned to the sleeping woman next to him. “Megan.”

  She didn’t stir.

  “Megan,” he said louder, giving her arm a little shake.

  She roused, but her eyes were still squeezed shut. “Leave me alone.”

  “Megan.” He jostled her harder this time. “We landed. You need to wake up.”

  “I’m tired,” she murmured, burrowing under the blanket.

  “You can sleep after you get off the plane.” But he knew she couldn’t. Her mother was picking her up, which meant she wouldn’t get to sleep for quite some time. She’d be busy explaining why her fiancé wasn’t with her.

  How was she going to face her mother in this condition?

  When the plane pulled up to the gate, she still hadn’t roused. The first class passengers began to bolt from their seats, fumbling with the overhead bins. Josh waved Tiffany over, who shoved passengers out of the way in her hurry to reach him.

  He motioned to Megan. “She’s going to need help getting off the plane.”

  The flight attendant shot Mega
n a snotty look, then rolled her eyes. “Sure. We’ll call security and have this taken care of.”

  “Security? Can’t someone just help her off the plane? Her mother’s out there waiting for her.”

  The attendant gave him a stern look, but he saw the flash of vindictiveness in her eyes. “We take public intoxication very seriously, Mr. McMillan.”

  “She’s not drunk. She had a drug interaction with the alcohol she drank.”

  The attendant’s eyebrows arched. “So she takes drugs too? Then she’s a sloppy drunk.”

  “I told you she’s not—”

  “Not to worry.” She patted Josh’s arm. “You are so sweet to feel responsible, but you can go about your business. We’ll take care of it.”

  Josh worried how she’d take care of it. He hardly knew the woman next to him, but for some reason he did feel responsible for her. “That’s not necessary. I’ll help her off.”

  The attendant shook her head, her mouth twisting into a mock sympathetic pout. “Sorry. You’re not traveling together and we can’t let an unconscious woman leave with a stranger. Imagine the liability to the airline.”

  “If she wakes up and tells you she wants to leave with me, will you let her off?”

  She studied Megan, who was audibly snoring again, for a moment before giving Josh a smug grin. “Of course.” Then she returned to the front of the plane.

  The cabin door opened and the passengers started to rush off. The sensible part of Josh told him to get up and walk away, but he just couldn’t do it.

  “Megan.” He shook her arm more vigorously. The passengers exiting from the back were watching the scene with morbid curiosity.

  “What?” she finally groaned, turning toward him.

  “The almost-future Mrs. McMillan is going to call security unless you get up and walk off this plane.”

  Her eyelids fluttered open. “Sorority Bitch?”

  He grinned. “That’s the one.”

  She tried to sit up and swayed in her seat. “Why’s the plane swaying?”

  “It’s not. You’re still out of it.”

  She leaned back in the seat. “I’m gonna take a little nap…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Megan.”

  Her jolted upright, her eyes wide. “What?”

  “Sorority Bitch will let me help you off the plane, but you have to tell her that you want to leave with me.”

  She grinned and waggled her finger in his face, singsonging, “She’s not gonna like it…”

  “I can deal with it. Will you tell her?”

  Her grin widened, but her gaze was still unfocused. “Oh…yeah…”

  Josh started to get out of his seat. “Do you have anything in the overhead bin?”

  “What?…No.”

  She was fading again, so he quickly grabbed his overnight bag and darted into the aisle, blocking the path of an irritated passenger from the back of the plane. He set the rolling case in the seat in front of him and grabbed Megan’s purse off the floor, slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s stand you up and get going.”

  She didn’t answer, already asleep again.

  He leaned over and pulled the blanket off her. “Megan.”

  She startled and jumped up, the top of her head hitting the bottom of his chin.

  “Oww!” He jerked upright and whacked the top of his head on the ceiling over the seat. Frustrated, he stopped and took a deep breath. How the hell did he get himself into this situation? He briefly considered running for the exit. Without her. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t leave her with Tiffany.

  “Hey, buddy,” an irritated man behind him grumbled. “Some of us want off the plane.”

  “Just a second,” Josh barked as he glanced down at Megan and found her staring up at him. Or as much as she could through squinted eyes.

  He reached for her arm, pulling her into a standing position. “First we walk off the plane, then we’ll figure out the rest.”

  “Okay,” she murmured, but her limbs were limp. He’d be lucky to get her down the short aisle. Somehow she found some inner reservoir of energy and managed to stand and maneuver her way around the seat and into the aisle.

  He knew things were going too well, especially when the almost-future Mrs. McMillan stopped her. “Miss, are you leaving of your own accord?”

  Megan shook her head and Josh’s heart slammed into his chest. If she told them no, could he be arrested for kidnapping? “I don’t have an Accord,” Megan slurred as she began to wobble. “I have a Civic.”

  The flight attendant scowled. “Do you know the man you’re leaving with? Do you want to leave with him?”

  Megan’s eyes widened as she tried to focus on the woman in front of her. She said in a mock serious tone, “Yes, I know this man.” She winked up at him, then turned back to Tiffany. “He’s Mr. McMillan and we’re leaving here together.” She stuck out her tongue at the flight attendant, who had a horrified look on her face. “So no little McMillan babies for you.” Then she tried to tap the other woman on the nose, missing and jabbing her cheek instead.

  “Okay…” Josh grunted, pulling Megan toward the door while he tried to maneuver his rolling carry-on bag with one hand. “Let’s save the birds and the bees speech for later.”

  He hadn’t waited for permission to take her, so he half expected to be stopped as he coaxed Megan out of the plane and down the tunnel to the terminal. They were ten feet from the door when her knees buckled. He pulled her up against his chest, his arm wrapped around her back to support her. He glanced down at a wheelchair at the entrance to the plane. One of the baggage handlers was watching him with wide eyes.

  “I don’t suppose I can use that wheelchair?” Josh asked.

  The man shook his head, grabbing the handle. “No can do, Mr.”

  “Thanks for nothing.”

  The airline employee chuckled.

  “Megan?” Josh gently shook her. “Can you keep walking?”

  Her eyes were tiny slits as she flopped her head back to look at him. “No, thank you. I don’t want any peanut brittle…”

  He supposed that answered his question. He needed to figure how to get her, her purse, and his bag down to arrivals.

  Squatting, he pressed his shoulder into her abdomen, then stood, carrying her in a fireman’s hold. Her upper body dangled down his back, her drooping arms swinging and brushing his ass. This was going to look suspicious as hell, but it was the only way to get her out.

  He grabbed the handle of his suitcase and set her purse on top of the bag, hurrying for the door once he had her steady. He’d never flown to Kansas City, so he wasn’t expecting the small area and the dense crowd waiting to board the next flight. Thankfully, he saw the exit twenty feet away.

  Megan’s upper body still dangled down his back. He knew they were a spectacle, and the outright stares confirmed it. “She’s my fiancé,” he muttered, breaking one of his cardinal rules—never explain yourself, especially not to strangers. But he knew that some of the stares were from people who were worried that he was kidnapping her. “She’s not feeling well.” He tugged on her legs. “Tell the people you’re not feeling well, Megan.”

  One of her dangling hands waved around as she spoke. “I’m the one helping you. I saved you from that awful woman.” The she patted his backside. “You have a really nice ass. No wonder she wanted to have your babies.”

  To his horror, Josh’s face began to burn. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed. “Megan, there are children around us.”

  Her hand dropped, but he wasn’t convinced his admonishment had stopped her or if she had simply passed out again.

  She wasn’t a large woman, but he hadn’t been very faithful at the gym lately, so he was feeling the physical exertion of carrying her dead weight. He made it out of the secure area, despite the once-over from the security guard at the door. As soon as he stepped out into the hallway, he wondered what on earth to do with her next. A group of three people stood clustered in a group a
nd they all turned their horrified gazes to the woman draped over his shoulder.

  “It’s okay,” he assured them. “I’m her fiancé.”

  Only then did he realize one of the women was an older version of Megan.

  Oh. Shit.

  The woman in question looked at the woman hanging down his back. She squatted and tilted her head upside down. “Megan?”

  Megan gave an exaggerated wave. “Hi, Mom. Why are you upside down?”

  Her mother released a horrified gasp. “Are you drunk?”

  Josh took a step toward her, his heart hammering in his chest. How the hell was he going to get himself out of this one? “She took some Dramamine and apparently it has a pretty strong effect on her. She’s okay.”

  “How many did she take?”

  He thought back to their conversation. “She said she took two as she was boarding.”

  “And you didn’t see her take them?” she asked, her tone full of admonishment. The woman’s eyes lifted to Josh’s face and he knew he was being scrutinized. He could see why Megan was scared of her mother.

  An older man stepped forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “Oh, for God’s sake, Nicole, let the man be. Is this really how you wanted to meet your future son-in-law?”

  Josh shook his head. “See, there’s been a misunderstanding.” But he had to wonder why they didn’t know what Megan’s ex-fiancé looked like. Megan had told him that they’d never met the guy, but hadn’t they at least seen photos?

  Megan’s father shot his wife a disapproving grimace. “The only misunderstanding is that Nicole is trying to micromanage everything. Like always.” He stepped forward and held out his hand. “I’m Megan’s father, Bart Vandemeer. Nice to finally meet you. It’s Jay, isn’t it?”

  Josh gaped at the man, at a loss for words. For once in his life he hadn’t bothered to come up with an intricate plan before jumping into a situation, he’d asked for fate to intervene…and the very man he needed to talk to had been dropped right in front of him.

  For once in his life, he was going to just go for it.

  He shifted Megan on his shoulder and awkwardly held out his hand for a shake, still speechless. These people obviously had no idea he wasn’t Megan’s real fiancé. How wrong would it be if he used that to his advantage? After all, he’d be helping Megan too. “Josh, actually.”