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CHAPTER 1
STERLING
As I scan the spreadsheet on my computer screen, the numbers start to blur together—a mind-numbing mixture of costs and projections.
I glance up from the monitor as Sullivan lays the blueprint for his new haunted ride on my desk. I squint down at the plans, realizing my youngest brother outdid himself with this one.
My eyes are drawn repeatedly to a sketch of an ominous clock tower that Sullivan insists will be the centerpiece, its face frozen just minutes before midnight.
"Think of it," Sullivan says, leaning back in his chair with that gleam in his eye, the one that always says he’s on the brink of another wild idea. "At the stroke of midnight, everything changes. The ride, the scenery, the scares all turn completely normal for a few seconds, and then we lower the boom and scare the shit out of them."
It’s ambitious, and I can’t help but be caught up in his enthusiasm, nodding along as I imagine our guests’ thrilled faces.
Sullivan pulls out his laptop to make a note of his ideas.
We both look up when the door swings open and Adam, my assistant, stops in the doorway with his cellphone in hand and a question already on his lips.
"Hey, Sullivan, want to meet us at the Midnight Brew tonight to watch the playoffs?” Adam strides in with that contagious grin of his, mischief flashing through his eyes. Fucking hell. I forgot about the stupid wager I made.
Sullivan glances back and forth between us. “I’m not sure I have the time.”
Adam leans against the doorframe, folding his arms with dramatic
flair, and I roll my eyes as he goes in for the kill. “Well,” he says, drawing
out the suspense, “I made a bet with Sterling. If the Knicks lose tonight, he has to let me set him up on a blind date.”
I still can’t fucking believe I lost my mind and agreed to this stupid goddamn bet.
“Really now?” Sullivan chuckles, closing his laptop with a snap
before turning to look at me with a raised eyebrow. “You really agreed to this wager?”
“I’m claiming temporary insanity.” What can I say? We’ve been working around the clock trying to make sure Sullivan’s new ride is ready for the early September Midnight Scares Grand Opening, and I let my guard down. “He caught me in a moment of weakness.”
Adam’s grin widens as he practically vibrates with excitement. Today, he’s wearing gray trousers and a bright pink button-up shirt. As usual, he’s clean-shaven, and his jet-black hair is slicked back. His round, black-framed glasses finish off the millennial nerdy look he strives for.
“Hey, all’s fair in love and basketball.”
There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes that I know all too well. Adam, pain-in-the-ass that he is, has apparently decided to play matchmaker, and nothing will dissuade him once he gets an idea in his head.
I rub the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache brewing but also a ripple of intrigue. A blind date couldn’t be that disastrous, could it? Plus, what are the odds he’ll be able to pull it off? I mean, there isn’t exactly an abundance of single women in Midnight Falls, Texas, population seven hundred and forty-three.
“Don’t forget, there’s a fifty-fifty chance the Knicks will win,”
I remind my assistant before glancing at my brother. “Adam has to test the new Razor’s Edge ride wearing a pink tutu when I win the bet.”
“You do realize all the oddsmakers are predicting an ass-kicking
tonight?” Sullivan barks out a laugh, clapping his hands with delight. “And the odds aren’t in the Knicks’ favor?”
“Fuck me,” I mutter under my breath. I should’ve investigated the odds before I agreed to this goddamn bet. That’s the last time I ever make any decisions before I’ve had at least two cups of coffee.
Sullivan shakes his head, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he
gathers his things. “Well, this game just got a lot more interesting. You can count me in.”
“I’m going to take one for the team and leave work a little
