“Sure. Are you at the Caveman?” he asks incredulously.
“Yeah, can you bring two hundred dollars with you?”
“What’s going on?” he asks confused.
“I’ll tell you everything later. Just get here as soon as you can.”
“Okay.”
“How long will you be?” I ask in a panicked voice.
“I don’t know. Twenty minutes.”
“Okay. Hurry up.” I slip my phone back into my pocket and look at my watch. Come on, Eric. Get here fast. I tap my fingers on the table surface impatiently.
Ten minutes later, things start happening on the stage. The DJ takes his place. The curtain twitches. Shit, she’s coming on. The bright stage lights come on and the DJ announces her name.
Fuck.
I call Eric again. “Where the fuck are you?”
“I’m just around the corner, dude. I’m getting the money out of the hole in the wall.”
“Hurry up, please.”
“I’ll be there in five.”
“Make it four,” I growl.
The music starts and Dakota appears in the spotlight. She is wearing a red top that seems to be made of mesh with a tie between her breasts, a pair of white go-go shorts, and knee length black boots. The men start catcalling and whistling. Her face looks pale and nervous under all the makeup they have slapped on her. Her enormous eyes desperately look for me in the dark.
I stand and smile encouragingly.
When she knows I’m there her eyes slide away.
It is a shock to me how protective I feel of her. I sit down, my hand gripping the seat so hard, it hurts. If one guy says one bad thing…I look around me.
Men are starting to move towards the catwalk. They’re attracted by the idea of a new dancer, fresh meat.
Dakota starts to move to the music, her movements are jerky. She goes to the pole and swings around it the way the Asian girl had done, but in a shaky, amateurish way.
Someone whistles, someone else laughs.
I feel my hands clench with fury. I force myself to breathe slowly. Eric will be here soon. He will come with the money and I will stop this travesty. I stare at her. Under the spotlight, she glows like something unreal. An angel. She tugs at the tie under her breasts and it comes loose. She shrugs out of it as she walks down the catwalk. Underneath, she is wearing a tiny red bikini top.
Her eyes meet mine.
I can’t breathe.
She turns around and fuck—she has an amazing ass. Problem is, I’m not the only one seeing it.
Someone calls out, “Whoa, sugar, that’s one fine ass you have!”
I see red. Jealousy burns my gut. I stand and walk over to him.
He is sitting with a group of men. They are obviously city boys out for a night of fun.
I want to knock his head off, but I know that will just get me kicked out. “Can you fucking keep your comments to yourself?” I snarl furiously.
“Fuck you,” he retorts.
I’m about to lose it when I hear Eric’s voice call out to me. I turn around and stride over to him. “Have you got the money?”
“Yeah.” He stares at me, surprised, as if he’s seeing me for the first time.
“Go give it to the girl on the stage.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Hurry up,” I almost yell.
Eric runs over to the catwalk and holds the money out to Dakota.
She understands immediately. She reaches out, grabs the money, and holds it up. ‘I’ve got it. I’ve got the two hundred dollars!”
My phone buzzes. I look at it and hold the phone triumphantly aloft so Dakota can see the lighted up message.
“Congratulation! You have both completed your Dare Me stunts successfully.
You both up by $210,000!
Chapter 14
TRENT
I have to admit, I’m still riding high.
Completing that first stunt gave me the forward momentum I needed. Conquering my revulsion finishing that bowl of live worms, then getting Eric to come with the money has given me new confidence. I know now I can handle whatever they throw at me. As I wait for Dakota outside the Italian restaurant we were instructed to meet at, I can’t help but wonder if she experienced the same rush I did after the first stunt.
I remember the pressure of her arms around my waist, the feel of her body behind me, and the way she squeezed me when we got word, we’d passed the first challenge. Yes. She felt it, too.
The image of her wearing nothing but my shirt skims around the fringe of my consciousness. A woman wearing your shirt is like a flag on a body you’ve conquered. I haven’t conquered her… but I want to. Badly. No matter how many times I’ve tried to shut down that train of thought, she manages to pop up someplace else. Her smooth long legs. I wanted to tell her to take it off when we reached the garage where my motorcycle was parked, knowing I was still holding her bra with the rest of her clothes.
Sure, she would’ve slapped me, but it would have been worth it.
She might not be as bad as I thought she was either. She’s still prickly and sarcastic, but I’m sarcastic too, so it works. What really got to me was she’s willing to make a fool of herself, which I kinda admire. In my experience, even the girls who consider themselves free spirits will balk at the idea of going against socially acceptable behavior. Not her. She was fun. I had a good time with her. I stop myself short. Thinking about her this way is getting me nowhere. I shouldn’t be doing it.
I glance into the restaurant through the window. It doesn’t look crowded, but then it’s an out-of-the-way place without much foot traffic. I wonder why they sent us here.
“Hey Rich Boy,” she says, appearing behind me out of nowhere.
I jump. “You’ll give someone a heart attack, if you’re not careful.” What is it about this woman that brings out the worst in me. I’m not really an ass, but she turns me into one. Or maybe I’m an ass and I just didn’t know it?
She rolls her eyes. “Yeah okay, Grandpa.” She looks up at the sign with a frown. “What’s the deal with this place anyway? I’ve never heard of it.”
“Neither have I.” I shrug.
“Are we supposed to like, strip down, walk in and ask for service?” she smirks.
The idea has a certain appeal to it, and I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe you should give that a shot, see what happens.”
“No, thanks.”
Just then, our phones go off.
She pulls hers out with a sigh.
Welcome to your third Dare Me stunt.
Go inside and order over a thousand
dollars’ worth of food and drink.
Finish every single thing you order.”
You must finish your stunt in two
hours or sooner. Good luck.
“Good thing I’m hungry,” I mutter as I slide my phone into my pocket.
“Do you know how much a thousand dollars’ worth of food is? And Italian food is so heavy. That much food could probably last me a whole month,” she whispers worriedly.
I look down at her anxious face. “Relax, we’ll order the most expensive stuff. That way, we can eat less.”
“I hope we can eat everything.”
“We’ll have to. I don’t care if my stomach bursts, I’m finishing every last drop.”
“They don’t expect us to pay for this, do they?” she asks with a frown.
“Didn’t you read the contract? They’ll reimburse us for expenses.”
“Right. I didn’t get a chance to yet. I hope you have the money, because my credit card is maxed out.”
“Yeah, I got it.” I go to the door and open it for her, and she steps inside. It’s a cozy little place. Cozy’s a good word for it too. The décor is homely and a bit faded. It has the feel of a family run business.
“All it needs is the guy on an accordion,” she whispers with a half-smile.
“Huh?”
“Lady and the Tramp.” She looks up and frowns at the
blank expression on my face. “You know…the famous scene of Lady and Tramp sharing the bowl of spaghetti.”
I stare at her blankly.
“God. Did you even have a childhood?”
I’m about to fire off a retort when a server comes by to seat us. There are only ten, maybe twelve tables in the place and only two of them are currently in use. I have to wonder why we couldn’t just seat ourselves. I smile as we’re led to our table and a list of specials is rattled off. I stop just short of asking which specials are the most expensive.
I scan the wine list first. That’s where I’m hoping we’ll blow a great potion of the most money. They don’t have a bad wine list. Nothing too jaw-dropping, but respectable for such a small place.
“Wow, it’s a big menu,” Dakota murmurs to herself as she scans the dinner menu.
“Filet, lobster, seabass…” I read aloud. “Okay. We can handle this.”
“Can we?” She peers at me over the top of the menu with a frown.
“Oh, come on. Have a little fun. When’s the last time somebody told you to order the most expensive items on the menu?” I remember the neighborhood I dropped her off in. I remember the house. She’s not exactly dirt poor, but she’s definitely not rolling in it, and her credit cards are all maxed out.
“Fun? My stomach is churning with anxiety.” She looks around warily. “Are there cameras on us now?”
“I think we’d better get used to having cameras on us at all times. It’s easier to assume they’re always there,”
“Doesn’t it freak you out a little, though? The thought that there’s somebody watching us all the time. Not just one somebody, either, but a whole lot of them.”
I shrug. “Quite frankly. I don’t care. The whole damn world can watch if they want. I just want to win the money.”
“I suppose you’re used to people staring at you all the time.”
“Don’t tell me you’re not used to people looking at you all the time.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“Jesus, are you always so quick take offence? All I meant was, you’re not exactly ugly. I’m sure you attract your fair share of attention.”
“Not exactly ugly? Stop, or I’ll have to climb across the table and bury my fork in your skull,” she warns, but I catch the slight glimpse of a smile before she hides it by raising the menu in front of her face.
Chapter 15
TRENT
The waiter who seated us greets us, “Good evening, Sir. Is there anything I can start you off with tonight?”
Dakota’s at a total loss. Time for me to step up. “Sure is. We’re celebrating tonight, so we’ll have a bottle of your finest Champagne, followed by your Barolo Riserva.”
The man’s eyes light up. “Certainly, certainly.”
“For our entrée, I think we’ll share a charcuterie plate and an order of oysters, but only if they’re extremely fresh.”
“We just had a new shipment arrive today,” he announces with a broad smile.
“Yes, I’m sure you had. I’ll have six of those, but I can’t stop looking at your seared diver scallops, either. So I’ll have a portion of that too.” I look down at the menu. “Do you have black truffles?”
“Yes, Sir. We certainly do.”
“How much would you charge me for a plate of pasta covered in black truffles?”
His eyebrows fly up to his receding hairline. “Covered, Sir?”
“Absolutely covered.” I grin. “I don’t mind paying, so don’t be shy about charging me the full price.”
“Well, sir. For a normal portion we’d charge thirty dollars, but if you want it covered then perhaps… sixty dollars?”
“I’d like you to double the amount of truffles in my dish and charge me one hundred and twenty dollars for it.”
He gulps, his Adam’s apple moving visibly. “Sure. I can do that.”
“Honey, you said you wanted lobster tonight, didn’t you?”
“Mm-hmm,” she nods, smiling up at the waiter. She’s finally playing along. “Yes, I would love the lobster fra diavolo, please. And a side order of garlic spinach. Oh, and garlic bread, too.”
“Oof,” I groan with a wink. “Not too much of the garlic bread, honey, First of all, it will fill you up too quickly and secondly, I won’t be able to kiss you later tonight.”
The waiter’s eyes nearly fall out of his head.
Dakota blushes charmingly, then spoils it by kicking me really hard under the table. While I try not to rub my shin, she smiles innocently at the waiter. “Yes, my husband is right, please cancel that garlic bread, but add extra garlic to the spinach.” She shoots me a defiant look and I laugh.
The waiter scribbles furiously on his notepad before turning to me again.
“Hmm… let’s see. For my main course, I’d like the twelve-ounce filet mignon with asparagus. I’ll take the lobster tail add-on with that too, but I’m a sucker for risotto too.” I glance at Dakota.
“Why not get both?” she suggests.
“Good thinking, darling.” I snap the menu shut with a satisfied smile. “Yes. I’ll take both.”
“Both?”
We’ve ordered around six hundred dollars of food and alcohol so far, if my math is correct. “Yes. Both. Oh, and salads, too. Of course.” I hand him the menus with a smile and hope my appetite is ready for what I’m about to throw at it. Good thing I’ve got antacids in the medicine cabinet back home.
The thing is, the food is excellent. Beyond excellent.
“Wow, this pasta is homemade,” Dakota says with a happy smile. “And the sauce? Oh, my God.” She goes in for a second bite, then takes a sip of her wine. “It’s all so fresh,” she waxes. “So delicious. And all free. We don’t have to pay for a thing.”
I hide a smile. I like Dakota after two glasses of champagne and one and a half glasses of wine. She is all mellow and dreamy. “I know. I’m pretty sure my oysters were just put on ice this afternoon.”
“I don’t know how you can eat those,” she grimaces, shaking her head.
“And I don’t know how you could consume so much garlic and spinach in one meal but hey, I’m not judging.”
She doesn’t even bother defending herself, because she’s too busy making out with a lobster claw. “Oh, man, this is delicious. I’ve never had lobster before.”
“Never?”
“Nope.” She licks her fingers.
“Let’s hope you’re not allergic.”
She smiles dreamily. “It would be worth it.”
I can’t help smiling. It’s nice, seeing her enjoy herself. I didn’t know until now, how tired I was of watching women pretending not to enjoy their food.
She dives in with gusto and doesn’t stop until she’s mopping up the plate with a piece of bread.
“Save room for dessert. You know we’ll have to order some more,” I remind her, as I signal for more wine. That, plus dessert, should bring the bill to just over a thousand. I’m feeling a little buzzed. More than a little. I drank most of the champagne and the red wine. But it’s not a bad feeling. I could get used to this. I’ll have to get a taxi to take me home rather than driving.
“I don’t know if I can squeeze in another bite,” she groans, both hands over her stomach. “You’re gonna have to roll me out of here. I can’t believe I made such a pig of myself.”
“And on camera, too,” I tease.
“Ouch.”
“Whatever. Enjoy yourself.” I want to add. Enjoy yourself for once. I’m starting to get the impression that there isn’t much joy in her life. Not that I would know joy if it jumped up and bit me on the ass, but I at least know how to let loose and have fun without obsessing over the price of the smallest luxuries.
Chapter 16
TRENT
For the last course, we both order tiramisu and cappuccino. “And I’d love a nice port, if you have one,” I add at the last minute.
“Me, too,” Dakota agrees
.
I’m pretty sure our waiter thinks he’s died and gone to heaven—meanwhile, if my math is correct, with the additional wine I ordered with our entrees we’re up over a thousand dollars. I hope that’s enough for whatever the audience wants from us. The table could only hold so much food at one time.
Instead of the waiter bringing our port, a woman with white-streaked hair and a sweet smile brings the two glasses on a small tray. “I just had to come out and meet the two of you for myself, to prove you’re real,” she chuckles.
“What do you mean?” Dakota asks, glancing at me.
“I don’t think we’ve ever had a check like yours with only two people dining,” she laughs. She just can’t keep the smile off her face. “We’re going to have a good night, thanks to the two of you.”
“I’m glad. The food was fantastic.” There is something motherly and kind about her and it makes me smile.
“Yes, it’s getting harder for us now. We’re not bright or shiny and you’ll be surprised how easy it is for people to walk right past this place,” she continues, a frown touching her face. “If it weren’t for my granddaughter’s tuition, I would sell and retire. I’m old and tired and it is just not worth it anymore, but my daughter died a few years ago and Jessica needs the money for school so I carry on, but I can tell you some days are so bad, I’m not sure we’ll make it. Then you two come in and turn things around and now I have hope for tomorrow. Your bill will pay the wages for this week.”
“You’re so sweet to come out and speak with us,” Dakota says, hands crossed over her chest.
“And you’re very sweet for making an old lady so happy. Thank you both.” She signals to one of the waiters for our desserts to arrive. “Your desserts and coffee are on the house.”
Both Dakota and I speak up at the same time.
“Absolutely not,” I say.
“We wouldn’t dream of not paying for our dessert and coffee,” Dakota chimes in.
“Oh,” she exclaims, surprised by how instant and unanimous our objection is. “But I would like to give you something complimentary.”
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