THE DARE (G!P Freenbecky)

Chapter 15

Freen saw the flesh of silvery blue silk against the evening sky, then saw Becky hurl herself into the orange Volkswagen, her silken skirts frothing around her legs. Then whoever was driving the bug shot out into the street, into the light traffic, while she saw Dan and her car, backed up about fifteen cars from the exit.

'Damn it!' Becky has bolted, just like this morning.

Well, there was nothing Freen could do about it right now. Shrugging into her winter coat and carrying Becky's deep blue velvet cloak, Freen headed towards her car.
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Aylin got her to Lookkaew's in record time. Becky raced up the stairs to Lookkaew's bedroom, blessing the fact that she'd completely packed all her stuff into her duffel bag before she'd left for the wedding. Feeling like the hounds of hell were snapping at her heels and she had no time to change, she rummaged around inside her bag for a casual jacket to replace the velvet cloak, then zipped the duffel shut. She slung the strap over her shoulder, grabbed her purse, and headed back out the bedroom door.

And stopped. There on Lookkaew's bed was the blue paper bag that held her wedding favors, right where she'd set it down as she'd raced in the bedroom door. The Christmas ornament ball with her name on it that had been her place card for the wedding dinner. And a pair of exquisite, cream-colored candles. Each of them had gold scroll lettering on the side that said, "And they lived happily ever after....."

But Becky knew how dangerously elusive that happily ever after was in real life.

Yet she couldn't just leave her wedding favor bag on her best friend's bed and reject her present, no matter how she knew things usually turned out in real life.

She struggled with her feelings for a tense moment, then grabbed the goodie bag and raced out of the bedroom, down the steps, and out the front door. Aylin sat in her car, the motor still running.

"Are you sure I shouldn't take a cab?" Becky asked Lookkaew's niece.

"Nah," Aylin said with newfound confidence. "I can get you there in plenty of time for your flight."

Aylin was as good as her word. Becky changed shoes while they drove to the airport, trading in her elegant heels for a pair of comfy running shoes, then gave Aylin a kiss as she dropped her off. Running inside with her carry-on bag, Becky stood in the short line to the ticket counter, then basically begged the young man to give her the first flight to England that had an empty seat—no mean feat during the holidays. Her original flight didn't leave until late that night, and she couldn't take a chance that Freen would come to O'Hare looking for her.

"There's a flight to the Bay Area in about forty-five minutes," The young man behind the airline counter said, "but it'll cost you a little extra—"

"Great," She whipped out her credit card and her original ticket. "Do it," Once she was past the security check-point, Freen wouldn't be able to follow her, and she'd be safe.

She didn't rest until she was on the plane. Becky was one of the last persons to run aboard, barely making the nonstop flight to England after racing madly through the airport, going through X rays, and praying that her duffel bag wouldn't be searched because of her strange outfit.

She'd run to the gate just in time to board the plane, holding the long skirts of her bridesmaid's dress in one hand, her carry-on duffel bag slung over her shoulder, clutching her small purse and goodie bag in her other hand.

"Must've been one hell of a wedding!" A guy called out as she passed him. His friends laughed.

Becky didn't even look back.

When she finally boarded the plane and practically fell down into her coach-class seat, it took her a moment to realize that all eyes were focused on her, including the flight attendant's.

In her bridesmaid's dress, rosebuds twined in her hair, with her casual jacket and running shoes, she had to look like something of a fashion disaster. Definitely a don't, according to that infamous glamour magazine column.

"Don't ask," she said to one man in his thirties who was staring, and another passenger, a woman in her late fifties, simply started to laugh.
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At precisely ten that evening, Freen heard the doorbell ring. She walked slowly to the front door, then opened it. But she already knew the woman she wanted wouldn't be standing outside.

The woman who stood on the front step was very short. She had streaked blonde hair and a voluptuous figure, her breasts almost spilling out of the pink, bustier-type top she wore. And she was chewing an enormous wad of gum, snapping it as she chewed.

But she wasn't her Mon. Not even close.

"Hi," She said brusquely. "Rico said you wanted a private dance."

"Come on in."

Freen guided her into the family room, poured her a glass of very good white wine, and settled them both by the comfortably crackling fire.

"Let's not waste any time," Freen said. "I'm trying to find a woman named Mon, the Mon that danced here the other night, and unfortunately, you're not her."

"But I am Mon!"

"But did you dance at my bachelor party?"

She hesitated.

"The truth, please. I won't tell Rico or make any trouble for you."

"No, I didn't," She hesitated. "I ate a bad taco, and I couldn't make it."

Okay. Now things were beginning to make sense.

"Do you know the names of the other girls?"

"Hani, Ash, and Bae."

"So there were four of you, but you didn't make it."

"That's right."

"Of those three girls, who's the one who's the leader?"

Mon considered this, "I'd say Hani."

"Do you have her phone number?" Freeb saw her doubtful expression and said, "I'm really not going to create trouble for any of you."

She sighed. "Sure. Right on my cell phone."

"Could you call her and ask if she'd be available for coffee tonight?"

She eyed her suspiciously. "Just coffee?"

"Just coffee. I give you my word."

"Okay," She rummaged around in her large purse, pulled out a cell phone, and punched in a number.

Keeping her green eyes on her the entire time, Mon said, "Hani? Hey, it's me. Listen, I need a favor, real bad. Can you meet me for coffee in about—" she glanced at Freen.

"Thirty minutes," Freen whispered.

"Thirty minutes? You know, that place by your apartment, with the great cheesecake? I'll meet you there. Oh, and there's going to be a girl with me, so don't get all freaked out, okay? Great. I'll see you soon."

She tossed the phone in her bag and glanced at Freen.

"Are you sure I'm not in trouble? Rico won't be thrilled when he hears I bailed on your bachelor party."

"Rico never has to know. I just need some information about the girl who danced in your place."

"Huh," Mon considered this. "Well, okay. We better get going if we're going to meet Hani. Should we take separate cars?"

"Fine with me. Just give me the name and address of the place with the great cheesecake."

She scribbled it down for her. As she did, Freen sighed, then pinched the bridge of her nose. She could feel a headache coming on. It was going to be a long night. But one way or another, she was going to get to the bottom of this whole mess.

And when she did, she'd figure out how to make sure Becky gave her another chance.
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