Jaclyn stood nearby as Jim awoke from his groggy state.
“What the . . .”
Determined to be the first face he saw, she stood lording over him and sang, “Wakey, wakey, asshole.”
Jim opened his eyes. When he realized his predicament, he immediately tried to wrestle himself free. But he couldn’t move at all. He was duct-taped to the hood of his bright red Rosso Corsa Ferrari 488 Spider. Duct-taped a lot.
Jaclyn grinned, pleased that the warehouse they’d held her in had a shit-ton of the stuff.
“Relax, Jim. You’re not getting out of there without some serious help,” she said. “Let me break down the situation for you. Not only have we duct-taped you to the hood of your precious sports car, we’ve strapped you to it buck naked. And, for the record,” she leaned over him, looking him square in the eye, “can I just say, ew?”
She shook her head in disgust and stepped back.
“Yeah,” Richard said, shaking his head. “I imagined you’d be a hairy beast under that cheap suit, but this is a whole new level of yeti.”
Jaclyn raised an eyebrow at Richard, toying with him. “You’ve imagined Jim naked?”
“Not like I could help it.” Richard shuddered. “I mean, the man shook my hand. Have you seen his knuckles? You could cornrow that crap.”
Jim struggled harder. “Get me the fuck out of here.”
“Tsk, tsk,” Jaclyn sang. “If you pull too hard, you’re liable to rip the paint right off your precious car. Oh, wait.” She snatched a piece of duct tape from the hood, pulling off a small patch of paint with it. “See?” she said with a huge smile.
“Goddamn you! I’m gonna fucking kill you, you bitch.”
Richard reached over, taking Jim’s jaw in a vice grip as he growled out, “Now, is that any way to speak to a lady?”
He shoved Jim’s head hard into the hood and pulled an old-school flip phone from his pocket. He then peeled up the tiniest corner of tape from Jim’s hand before ripping it away.
“Motherfucker!” he wailed.
Richard looked down at Jim’s exposed hand, now an angry red and devoid of any trace of the matted fur. He showed Jaclyn the impromptu waxing strip and scoffed. “Trust me. I just did you a huge solid.” He tossed the furry tape aside and placed the phone in the man’s free hand.
Jaclyn snapped her fingers, recapturing Jim’s attention. “You’ve heard of escape rooms, right? Well, here’s your version. That phone is turned on. It has a battery life of about eight hours. Only numbers one through three work, and they’re programmed for speed dial. Press one and you’ll call nine-one-one. You can get help at any time. But . . .” She turned to Richard, who held up an envelope they’d labeled criminal evidence with a thick Sharpie.
“But here’s a whole list of your misdeeds,” Richard said. “Securities fraud. Tax evasion. Oh, did we mention kidnapping? We’ve included quick-and-easy QR codes so the authorities can jump right to the private YouTube video of all the footage captured by the glasses Jaclyn was wearing. You really bared your souls when she was sleeping. Including the names of a few politicians and high-powered CEOs in your pocket.” He grabbed a roll of duct tape, securing the envelope right at Jim’s feet.
“But wait,” Jaclyn said in her best game-show voice. “There’s more. Lucky for you, there’s option number two. Literally, just hold down the number two, and you can ask for help from your favorite loan shark. And, only the best for you, Jim. This man’s not just made, he’s one of the biggest wise guys in the Western world.”
She leaned on the car, lowering her voice to a confidential tone. “Hey, I get why you needed to marry well. Wow, you borrowed more money than most nations have, without any way to pay it back.” She blew out a long whistle. “I sure wouldn’t want to be you right now. But no need to worry, because there’s always option number three. Press three and you can bypass Go and head straight to the Feds. Turn state’s witness on all those crooked congressmen in your pocket. End up in some country-club penitentiary.”
Jim heaved and squirmed as she pushed off the car.
“Well,” Richard said, “we’d love to grab some popcorn and see how this story ends, but we’ve got a very important date with a cupcake place.” He held out his elbow to Jaclyn. “Shall we?”
She took his arm as they sashayed off. Without looking back, she said to Jim over her shoulder, “Oh, and you might want to make up your mind soon. It’s gonna be a scorcher in Dallas today, and this warehouse has no air-conditioning.”
An SUV waited outside for Jaclyn and Richard, arranged for by Jean, who’d also assembled the evidence they’d asked for while Jim was out cold. The driver had provided a cooler holding drinks and snacks, and thoughtfully left a soft blanket on the seat. Jaclyn buckled herself into the middle of the back seat, resting her exhausted body on Richard as he held her in his arms.
“Where do you want to go?” he asked softly.
She gave him a wry look. “Weren’t cupcakes on the table?”
“I’ll have every assortment of Sprinkles delivered, but I want you somewhere you can clean up and relax. So, your place or mine? And I’d like a doctor to check you out.” When she popped her head up to argue, Richard fired back in true Margot fashion. “Nonnegotiable.”
Jaclyn rested her head between his shoulder and neck. “Okay. Nonnegotiable. Your place then.” Her fingers wove through his as she stared off at nothing. “I knew you’d find me.”
He squeezed back. “I’ve got too much invested in you not to get you back. And now I’m about to pour more your way.”
She slowly cocked her head up at him as he captured her lips.
Richard whispered, “Let’s just set some expectations, okay? I’m not exactly made of cupcakes, you know. How many would you like?”
To her delight, he smothered her smile with a kiss that lasted, on and off, for the rest of the ride.