The friends exchanged byes and hung up.
I couldn’t believe it was that easy. And while I hadn’t exactly gotten the job completely on my own merit, at least I could say that I didn’t get it because of my name. Heck, these two didn’t evenknowmy real name.
Dakota looked at me. “Well? I guess we finally found a way I can help you.”
I knew what he wanted. I drew a small breath. “Just one night, right?”
“Just tonight,” he reassured me.
“Okay.” I bobbed my head, convincing myself I could do this for someone else. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
“Really?! Yes! Thank you so much!” Dakota bent down, wrapped his thick arms around me, and gave me a long squeeze. His manly scent filled my senses. I liked it. “Wanna come back inside and talk more then? So we can run things over, get to know each other a little better?”
“What time is dinner?”
“Seven.”
“Seven!” I repeated, surprised. “No, I have to go. I need to pick out what I’m wearing and get mentally prepped.”
“You need six whole hours to get ready for dinner …?”
“Oh, hush. This is not a normal dinner, Dakota.”
“Okay, fair. Text me your address. I’ll pick you up around six-thirty.”
“Sounds good.” I paused, casting a glance at my car, where Florin still patiently stood and waited for me. “Now … can you go back inside, please?”
“Okay. Fine. I’ll do it for you.” Dakota chuckled. “Weirdo.”
I shooed Dakota as he reluctantly went back inside. Watching through the window, I waited until he was seated at his table. Only then did I run back to the car. Florin opened the door for me in the nick of time so I could zoom right in.
“To your next interview?” he asked as he buckled his seat belt.
I shook my head. “No, take me to the family house, please.”
I’m going to need a dress for tonight.
8
Rehearsal
Dakota
Palm trees rolled past in a blur as I cruised south on Paradise Road. The drive to Olivia’s place was only ten minutes away, yet it seemed like an eternity. I lookedgood in my suit, but Ifeltlike hell, my stomach twisted in knots, my nerves on edge, and my mind racing a million miles a minute.
What if I screw up?
What if Olivia backs out at the last minute?
What if we’re unconvincing and Mr. Capuano calls us out?
What if it all goes wrong?!
But it was way too late to back out now—this dinner washappening,one way or another.
“Turn right on East Tropicana Avenue,”the Porsche’s navigation system advised me in a friendly female voice. I trusted her commands. With my mind fully occupied, I was practically driving on autopilot.“Turn right on Royale Place.”
Only when I saw the dancing casino hotel lights did I realizewhere the GPS had taken me: the Grand Royale.
