The Summer I Really Didn't Kidnap Lance Hardwood

Take 7 - It Almost Happens

First, an update. Miss Scarlet had decided to come with us. Just like that, we'd gained an ally. Lance insisted on sitting in the driver's seat, something I would never allow anyone to do. The rental was my responsibility. I take responsibilities very seriously. Lance, who's always had others to do his thinking for him, does not. And even if he did, the thought of allowing someone else at the wheel just grated on me.

It was really James Dean driving the car. Although I had no reason not to trust the AI completely – what if we had an electrical malfunction? What if an EMP happened while we were on a crowded freeway? And, just as my brain had begun descending into the pit of worry and fear, I feel Lance's right hand start to knead my shoulders.

"Chillax, Pete. We got this."

"Jimmy, honey – do you mind if I call you Jimmy?" asked Miss Fever, somewhat coyly. A few seconds elapsed before the AI answered. If a human being had answered, I was certain that a blush would have been involved.

"For you, Miss Fever, I would answer to R2-D2."

"Oh, my! Would you please play Andrea Bocelli's 'Con te Partiro?' For Peter's sake?"

As the music swelled, we entered the city where secrets supposedly stayed put. I'd hoped Luck would be a lady with me, and our evening go smoothly – perhaps ending with a nice kiss-and-cuddle in a big, comfy bed. Nothing more, just that for now. Plenty of time to live out my Bel Ami porn dreams. Then the consequences of spontaneity hit me. Panic set in again.

We'd forgotten to make reservations. And how much money did I/we have? Any withdrawals Lance or I made at a bank or atm, any credit card transaction would be monitored and traced. Maybe...

"James, can you access my mother's everyday account? Could you make a modest withdrawal look as if it came from, and stayed in, New York City?"

"Yes, Peter, I can. Do you want this to be untraceable and non-suspect? I can arrange that. Video enabled. Peter Fisk, who sang the original 'Rama Lama Ding Dong?'

My mother's favorite silly song. "The Edsels" I answered.

"ID verified. How much do you need and in what denominations?" stated James.

"Fifteen hundred dollars in twenties, tens, fives and singles." For one night and day in Vegas, that should suffice. I'd hoped, at least.

"Would you like me to make a reservation at the Bellagio now? And have the money waiting for you at the front desk?

"Yes, thank you. You're very thorough, James."

The glove compartment popped open, and I pulled out three magnetic stud earrings. "James, these are..."

"These will allow you to communicate with me and with each other. They also will make you look like a different person completely on any security or camera. Put them on now, please."

"Do you mean, Jimmy, that all my work on hair and makeup was for nothing? Are you saying my work isn't...isn't good enough?" Scarlett was moments away from throwing a royal fit, but the AI knew just what to say.

"You work will fool any human being with eyes. These devices only work on machines, Miss Fever. If you like, some time we can talk about how your makeup might be upgraded to fool closed-circuit cameras. Would you like that?"

"I would, Jimmy."

>>>><<<<

The fountains were more beautiful than the videos, and twice as big. We left the car, which drew crowds, in the capable hands of our Valet, Hector. He did a double-take when he looked at Lance. At first, I thought he was giving him a Grindr once-over, which actually made me feel jealous.