Shirley Jump - The Bachelor's Dare

Millie jabbed Lester again and stood while he folded their chairs and hoisted their bags. The others who’d missed being part of the lucky twenty wandered away.

Mark turned back to Claire. He’d never seen such a forlorn look in a woman’s eyes before. “I’m sorry, Claire.”

“Give me your place.” She gripped his arm. “Please, Mark. I’ve never asked a favor of you before, just give me this one thing and I’ll…” he saw her reach for the words, knowing from past history Claire wasn’t the type to ask anyone for anything, “owe you for the rest of my life.”

He hesitated. Any other day, if a pretty woman asked a favor of him, he’d oblige, charmingly offering a date in trade. They’d wine, dine, flirt, and before the end of the night, she’d be in his bed and he’d figure he’d been the winner.

But this wasn’t any other day. And these weren’t ordinary circumstances. For the first time in his life, Mark Dole was desperate. Desperate enough to ignore a beautiful woman’s smile and deny her the one thing she wanted. “I can’t, Claire. Sorry.”

Disbelief washed over her features. “You can’t tell me your trip to Disneyland is more important than my reasons.”

“And just why do you want to win that thing? It’s a bit big for your driveway, don’t you think?”

“I need to get to California.” She said it with such determination that he doubted she was lying.

“Buy a plane ticket.”

“A plane ticket doesn’t solve my problems. Besides, up until yesterday, I was a hairdresser at Flo’s Cut and Go. I’m rolling in blue hair dye and quarter tips, not dough.” Her gaze filled with entreaty again. “Please, Mark. I know you haven’t always liked me, but—”

“Who says I don’t like you?”

“All aboard!” Nancy cried. “Last call for the RV Train, bound for Florida or maybe Disneyland.”

Mark ignored the drill instructor. “Who says I don’t like you?” he repeated.

“Come on, Mark. We had the date from hell with Jenny and Nate. Don’t you remember? We fought over everything.”

He smiled. His memories included a spirited fight, yes, but also a spirited attraction. Why they’d never pursued that, he couldn’t recall. “I remember you were pretty warm that night.”

She let out a sigh. “That wasn’t me. It was the butter at the bottom of your popcorn bucket.” She shook her head. “That’s not the point. I need to get on that RV and win it.”

Mark raised his hands in a gesture of futility. “Sorry, Claire. I wish I could help you.” He picked up his bag, and crossed to the motor home. Behind him, he could almost hear the sound of Claire’s disappointment.

He’d arrived before her. He was number twenty. He’d earned his place on the motor home. But as he walked toward the prize he intended to win, he couldn’t have felt like a bigger heel if he’d been on the bottom of a pair of loafers.

Claire clutched her suitcase and watched Mark climb the first step of the RV. She hated him and envied him and wanted to throw things at him, but truth was, she had arrived here one person too late. She’d blown her chance because she’d stayed on the phone too long. A few too many minutes of conversation with the nurse. And now she was left holding a suitcase, with no way to get to the coast. To her new life. To the first person she could call family in a long time.

Buy a plane ticket, Mark had said. If only it were that simple. She’d made a promise, and now, damn it all and damn it again, she was going to have to break it. And even worse, do so over the phone, with one end of the connection on a cell phone in Mercy and the other end in a room in California smelling of antiseptic.

Despair settled over her, heavy and thick. She’d come so far, risked so much, and now she was going to lose it all. Had she really thought she could pull this off? Change her life with a risky move like this?

She dropped the suitcase to the floor, sat down on top and buried her face in her hands. She would not cry. She would not—

“I can’t do it! It’s so small! I can’t—” One of the makeup-counter salesgirls came barreling off the RV, nearly knocking Mark over in her rush to flee. “It’s like a coffin in there!” She stopped in the courtyard, took in several deep gulps of air, then ran out of the mall.

“One down,” Nancy said. “Eighteen to go and we’ll have a winner.”

“No, wait!” Claire scrambled to her feet, grabbed her suitcase, and ran over to Nancy. “The last person hasn’t gotten on yet. Technically, the competition hasn’t started. And now, you only have nineteen. The rules said twenty.”

Nancy’s mouth turned in and she narrowed her gaze. “I can count. We had twenty, now we have nineteen.”

“The rules said—”

“The lady’s right.” Mark interrupted, still standing on the step. He flashed Nancy a winning smile. “I can see you’re a nice person, someone…understanding. She just wants a chance.” He indicated Claire. “You seem the kind who would give her one.” He leaned closer to Nancy. “Between you and me, I don’t think she’ll last more than a few hours anyway. Then you’ll be back to nineteen again, all before the mall opens. Besides,” he added on a whisper, “she might sue. It’s a sticky situation, considering I haven’t gotten on yet.”

Why would Mark help her? Especially after he’d turned her down earlier? Claire didn’t bother to try to understand his motives, not when her chance at boarding the RV was at stake.

The lawsuit implication seemed to sway Nancy. “Okay, get on. But remember,” she cautioned before Claire took a step, “I’m being very nice in giving you this chance.”

“Nancy, you’re all heart.” Mark flashed his best smile. It worked its usual magic, a trick Claire had seen a thousand times in the years she’d known Mark. He smiled and grown women swooned. Even hard-nosed Nancy melted—she returned his smile with a little giggle.

“Thank you.” Claire shook Nancy’s hand but the other woman barely noticed. Her gaze was entirely on Mark, until she was interrupted by a question from Don Nash and turned away with clear reluctance. “Let’s get in there, Mark.”

“Ladies first,” he said, gesturing before him.

Claire shook her head. “I know how you are. You just want to watch my butt. Get in there and I’ll watch yours instead.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you liked me. Or my rear, Claire.” Mark wasted a smile on her. Claire felt a flutter in her stomach that surely had to come from the three donuts she’d gobbled on her way out the door. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a pencil. “Here.” He handed it to her.

“What’s this for?”

“In case you want to capture the view.” Then he climbed the steps and entered the RV. Claire sighted her target and launched. Perfect aim. The pencil beaned his left temple.

“Hey!” Mark said.

Claire grinned. “I told you I don’t play fair.”

He leaned toward her. “Makes it all that much more interesting, doesn’t it?” There were a hundred other implications in his voice. She chose to ignore them all.

Once inside, Claire understood why the claustrophobic girl had run screaming from the motor home. Twenty people, with luggage, did not fit easily in a forty-five-foot trailer, no matter how nicely decorated the interior. Already, the air was stifling, filled with the odor of humans and the sickly-sweet stench of perfume. If Claire hadn’t had so much at stake herself, she would have left, too. The crowd was overwhelming.

Nancy entered the RV and grimaced. “Now that we’re all here, let’s start the competition.” She flicked a switch at the front of the vehicle and blessed cool air began to pump through the vents. “First, a few rules. The newspaper will be delivered daily and you can get local channels on the TVs, so you’ll stay current. There’s a full kitchen, with a stocked refrigerator and food cabinet. I’ll be bringing by fresh groceries, as often as they’re needed with a crowd this big. Just give me a list and I’ll do my best. A couple of area restaurants have graciously agreed to donate dinners for the next few nights. In exchange for a mention in the media coverage, of course.”