I wasn't following. "What judge?"
"When I get back, I'm gonna sue your ass so hard, you'll be dead-broke."
That's whatshethought. "Hah! I'malreadydead-broke, so good luck with that." As the words echoed out in the night, it suddenly struck me that this was nothing to brag about.
Into the sudden silence, I said, "I'm just saying, it would be a waste to sue me." I cleared my throat and mumbled, "You can't get blood out of a turnip and all that."
Imogen shook her head. "A turnip? I'm not suing a turnip. I'm suingyou." Her voice rose."Psycho!"
My jaw dropped.Psycho? Seriously?I made a show of eying her up and down. "At least I wear clothes when I go outside." I gave her a stiff smile. "So who's the psycho now?"
"Oh, whatever." She turned away. "See you in court."
I was still searching for a snappy comeback when Jack told her, "No. You won't."
She smirked. "That's whatyouthink."
Jack looked to Randy. "Let's say you did take a photo. Who was on top?"
With a sloppy grin, Randy looked to Imogen. "The one with no clothes on."
Well, that counted me out.I was wearing lots of clothes, especially compared to Imogen.
And now, she was sputtering, "What does that have to do with anything?"
"I'm just saying," Jack said, "it's gonna be hard to claim you were attacked if you were the one on top."
Imogen made a sound of protest. "But you saw what happened! She totally lunged for me."
As she spoke, it suddenly struck me that she sounded a whole lot different than how she'd sounded earlier, when I'd met her at Flynn's front door. I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. "What happened to your accent?"
She whirled to face me. "What?"
"Weren't you supposed to be English or something?"
"Oh, screw you," she said. "I'm leaving." She looked wildly around. "Where the hell are my shoes?"
I pointed to the flower bed, where both shoes were still stuck in the dirt. She marched forward, swooped down, and grabbed one in each hand. And then, she turned to glare at Randy. "I hope you know, I'm calling your boss."
"Actually," he said, "Iamthe boss."
From the sidelines, I smiled with relief. "Really? Did you buy the limo company or something?"
He grinned back at me. "Yeah. I got me an investor." As he said it, he glanced toward Flynn's estate, and I recalled the drama outside this very same gate months ago.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out exactly who his investor was – Flynn Archer, my sister's fiancé.
Well, that was good.Or at leastIthought so.
As for Imogen, she looked less than thrilled as she stomped to the limo's nearest back door and said to Randy, "Well? Aren't you going to get this?"
"Get what?" he asked.
"The door." Under her breath, she added, "Idiot."
Randy gave her a hopeful smile. "You sure you don't want to ride up front?"
Turns out, she didn't.
