A Billionaire for Christmas
He shoots a dubious look over his shoulder. “Babe, come on. We’re eloping to Vegas in the middle of the night just so you don’t have to let her plan your wedding.”
“And be my bridesmaid! Anyway, what’s your point?”
“My point is… that’s kind of ridiculous.”
“In a good way though, right?”
“Sure.” He chuckles. “In a good way.”
Karen’s back yard doesn’t have a fence, so pretty soon we’re over in enemy territory. Then we see the headlights of a slowly creeping car that must surely be our ride come into view and stop in front of the Krakken house. I wasn’t paying attention when I called it, so I bet her address popped up once I moved the little marker to one street over.
It’s fine though. I’m sure she’s still at the party—
“Who’s there?”
Shit! Jesse and I stop in our tracks then slowly turn our heads to find a little girl on the back porch. Clearly this is Chauncey Krakken Channing.
“Just us,” Jesse says good-naturedly. “Your neighbors. We’re meeting that car right there and we’ll be—”
“Mom!” the little heathen yells.
“No, no!” Jesse says, dropping my hand and the wheelie handle so he can put both of his up in surrender. “We’re just passing through!”
“Mom! Emma Dumas and her boyfriend are creeping around our backyard!”
“Run!” I yell.
Jesse looks at me. “What?”
“Run! Now!”
I take his hand and pull him along the side of Karen’s house and when we come out into the front we see the Uber. But it’s a few houses up now, looking for us. We dart out into Karen’s front yard, trying to head it off before it picks up speed and leaves us behind, when who comes out the front door but—
“Stop right there, Emma!”
And I don’t know why, but we do. We stop and turn to look at Karen. She’s standing on her front porch with arms crossed. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“Vegas,” Jesse says.
“What the hell, Jesse? You don’t have to tell her!” Then I glare at Karen. “You might think you’ve weaseled your way back into my life, but you’re wrong. You will never, ever”—I’m seething out my words like a crazy woman—“plan my wedding or be my bridesmaid!”
Then I take off in a run, tugging Jesse behind me.
But the car has reached the stop sign at the end of the street and has a blinker on, ready to turn left. “Stop!” I yell. “Here we are!”
Jesse lets go of me and sprints off.
“Stop!” Karen is calling.
I look over my shoulder to find her running after me. I double down and pump my arms, booking it harder to catch up with Jesse.
He’s reached the car and is banging on the hood. “We’re here!” he’s yelling. “It’s us.”
The Uber car stops in the middle of turning left and Jesse yanks the door open just as I reach him. I slide in, Jesse slides in, and we both say, “Go, go, go!”
The car takes off and I turn to look behind me. Karen is standing in the middle of the road with her phone in her hand. “Oh, my God. I think she’s calling my mother!”
“Please!” the driver says. “I don’t have any money!”
“What?” Jesse says.
“I don’t have any money! Please don’t steal my car! I need it for my job!”
Jesse and I both look at each other.
“Oh, shit,” I say. Just as the smell of Italian food wafts up to my nose.
“You’re not an Uber driver, are you?” Jesse asks.
“Door Dash!” the frightened woman says. “I was making a delivery. I think it was for that lady back there. I was just gonna turn around and—”
“We’re just going to the airport,” Jesse says. “We’ll pay you double to take us there. Hell, we’ll pay you two hundred dollars to take us there and pretend this never happened!”
“Do we even have two hundred dollars?” I ask. Because I don’t normally carry cash.
The driver pulls over, like she’s gonna make us get out, or get out herself, and then we really will have to steal her car, because when I look out the back window, fucking Krakken is running down the street after us, yelling, “They just stole my dinner! They just stole my dinner!”
Well, I can’t really hear her say that. But I’m pretty sure that’s what the Kraken is yelling.
“No, no!” Jesse says. “Please! Don’t pull over. This is just a weird misunderstanding. And I do have cash. I promise.” He pauses to look at me. “I do. Only three hundred, but it’s fine. We can hit up an ATM in Vegas when we arrive and get more. Just keep going,” he tells the driver. “Please. Or crazy Kraken Karen will catch us!”
And maybe it’s the word ‘kraken’ that changes the poor woman’s mind, or maybe it’s the promise of two hundred dollars. Could go either way. But she gets back on the road and accelerates just as Karen starts pounding on the passenger window.