Should've taken El a couple of seconds to punch out a conspiratorial snicker. No such sound came. "You may want to hold up on defrosting that ice cream, party girl."
Shit.
"Why?" She didn't pull the doomsday demand from it.
"Well … when the guys first radioed, I assumed they did so from the comm station at the Blake ranch."
"Of course." She would've thought the same thing. "But now you think that wasn't the case?"
"Oh, I'm past the point of thinking it." El tossed out a darker, and slightly apologetic, girl growl. "I'm pretty damn certain they took the call wireless nearly from the moment we started, purposely muting their end of the line so I couldn't detect any traffic noises, and be wise to their little cahoots. A truck blared into the middle of one of Rebel's questions. They cut the connection faster than Zoe tearing after a fruit roll."
All the stress in the world couldn't have held back both their spitting laughs. Zo's adoration for fruit rolls was legendary, no matter what show they were in or where in the world they traveled. During rehearsals that had redefined grueling and painful, the fruit roll jokes pulled all three of them through, literally and figuratively. Whether it was Zoe using the whole roll as a director's baton or El using scraps of the sticky stuff as makeshift pasties, they'd never failed to shift Brynn out of her pity party and back to work.
And right now, in the middle of what had to be the most bizarre day of her life, she needed the exact same kick in the tush.
She could've done without the nostalgic waterworks, though. "Damn it, El." No use trying to hide her teary wobble. When El snickered again, she snapped, "Ruthless bitch."
"Weepy wench."
"Camel toe queen."
"Sleep drool diva."
The tears dissolved into more laughter. "Okay, okay. I give up."
"Wise move, darling." El's preen was evident even over the miles. "Though I must admit to being glad that we stopped that wheel on the wedge of drool."
"Oh, no." She attempted another laugh. "I don't dare ask why, do I?"
It was almost a rhetorical question. El filled the next pause with the smallest of hums-the kind always responsible for the hugest rips in Brynn's gut.
Well … hell.
"Because if I'd been Facetiming with those boys instead of just yakking, I would've seen drool stains on their chests … wouldn't I?"
Brynna never thought she'd be so happy to see red and blue flashing lights in the rearview mirror. "El-um-I-"
"Am avoiding the question? Uh-uh, missie. I need at least the Twitter tease about this. Those guys were more into my answers about you than a couple of bachelorettes at Thunder From Down Under. A hundred and forty characters or less. Now."
"I have to pull over."
"Not necessary. We can hash out more later. Just strip to the basics-especially if that's what you did with them."
She couldn't figure out what qualified as more insane right now: Eleanor Cordelia Browning's I-know-the-nasty-you-just-did ESP, or the driver of the state highway cruiser that had slid in behind her. The officer behind the wheel jabbed his hand out, ordering her to hitch a sharp left back into the motel's parking lot with all the subtlety of Genghis Khan.
"No, El. I'm really being pulled over. This guy has the highway patrol disco lights on and everything. Son of a-"
"Oh, gawd. Now I give. You always could act circles around the rest of us."
"I really have to go."
"Yeah, yeah. Okay, okay. You don't want to talk about stripping for the soldiers."
"El-"
"The subject is tabled, Monet, not dismissed."
"El!"
"Byeeeee!"
She disconnected the line while pulling into a parking space near the room she'd paid for under the name Peach La Couer. She'd used it an hour ago to change into the sexy pharma rep persona, but hung onto the reservation in case Zoe needed a place to rest after they snuck out of Adler's hellhole. It wasn't going to be easy, though she counted on the Taser and pepper spray she'd snuck from Rebel's mission pack to be helpful little elves for their cause.
A sexy disguise. A Taser gun. Helpful elves.
She was a long way from the girl who just wanted to open her own counseling office, settle down with a banker, and be happy with a life dictated by routine.
"Shit!" She didn't hold back the violence from it, even causing the ninja banjo player to jump as he passed by. Other than him, the festival-goers didn't blink an eye at her predicament. "Okay, Brynn," she muttered. "Breathe in, breathe out-and be sweet. The faster you cooperate, the faster they'll let you go."
It wasn't like she'd broken any major laws. The rental probably had a burned-out tail light. Maybe she'd rolled too fast through one of the stop signs in the motel's back lot. Spewing profanities and attitude wasn't going to speed up this process by a single second.
"You can do this," she whispered. "Just be nice. Be helpful. Be,"-she quickly wetted her lips-"sexy." Hell, this could even be a dress rehearsal for the cute-and-coy she had to pull on Adler later.
Just not too much later … God, please.
She concluded the prayer by checking the dashboard clock. "There's still time." Her whisper was desperate but reassuring, so she repeated it. "There's still some time." Okay, not hours and hours of the stuff, but enough to keep her plan still fully railed. She just had to play this right, accept her ticket, and get the hell out of here in the next ten to fifteen minutes.
Even with their thirty minute lead out of Marble Falls, Rhett and Rebel had some major real estate to cover. Once they reached Austin, they had to drive across town to get to Verge's gates. That still gave her the logistical advantage. She wasn't turning cartwheels of joy about it-they'd let her come along and now she'd cut them out of the picture-but something had to happen, damn it. In the end, when everything turned out all right, they'd eat their proverbial hats, forced to admit the exact same thing to her.
But right now, speaking of fancy hats …
Show time.
"Officer." She looked up, all blinking innocence and pursed lips, at the patrolman who strode to the lowered driver's side window. He slowly peeled off his sunglasses as a second cop joined him. In her peripheral, the two backseat doors of the cruiser swung open, sprouting two more sets of long male legs. Shit. Out of all the Texas Highway Patrol teams to pull her over, she had to get the clown car division. She managed a demure smile while venturing, "Um … is there a problem?"
Clown Number One tucked his glasses into a shirt pocket, never taking his eyes off of her. He had nice eyes, actually. In other circumstances, she could imagine those whiskey-colored irises filling with light as he laughed. Even with his stern expression, there were dimples in his cheeks and laugh lines bracketing his mouth. "License and registration, ma'am?"
She pulled her Nevada license from her purse and handed it over. "I'm sure the registration's in the glove compartment or something. It's a rental." Cue the oh-aren't-I-the-cutest giggle. "Like you aren't used to that one by now, right?" When he scrutinized her license like it had turned into a thousand-dollar bill, she tried babbling through the silence. "How is the festival going? Bet it's been a crazy week. I can only imagine-"
"Please step out of the car, ma'am."
She smiled tightly. "Is that necessary? I mean, what's this all ab-"
"Just step out of the car, please."
Be sweet. Be cooperative. He just has to do his job. Make it easier and faster for him, and it'll be easier and faster for you. Besides, she could test how scintillating her legs looked in this skirt. She was completely fine working the sexy leggy thing in a sequined leotard and matching go-go boots, but the skirt and blouse were an impulse buy from three months ago, in anticipation that she'd start needing "real life" clothes for the next stage of her life. She never dreamed she'd have to rely on the sex-freak-in-nerd's-clothing bit, least of all in the middle of a motel parking lot, at high noon during the SXSW festival. Keep Austin Weird. She was sure doing her part.
"Like … this?" After opening the car door, she slunk both legs out and slid them provocatively along each other. The move earned her an impatient cough but little else. When she finally stood, she could look both officers straight in the eyes. She did just that, going for another disarming smile. No more coughs this time. No more nothing. Both cops were practically statues.