Page 86 of Ice Rebel

“You were.” My sister was practically giddy. There were days I wanted to disown her, this being one of them.

“Stop being a matchmaker.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.”

“Did something happen? Is she still dancing?”

Samantha giggled just like when were younger and she’d caught one or more of her brothers doing something against the rules. “Yes, goofball. I’m here at the auditorium. The big shindig is about to start. Where are you?”

“Um, coming back from Reno?” As if she didn’t know.

“Yeah, but how close?”

“A little over an hour. Why?”

“Then you can make it.” Her insistence was noted.

I closed my eyes. “She doesn’t want me there.” And I wasn’t about to admit I was thinking about being the cowardly lion.

“Uh, yeah, she does. She was hoping to see you in the audience.”

“She said that?”

“She didn’t need to. She fell asleep the other night in the middle of watching the first game. So you tell me?”

“You little snoop!” I gritted out, trying not to laugh.

“How else do I find all the juiciest gossip?”

I’d give her that. “I want to be there, but I don’t have much control. It’ll likely be over by the time I arrive.”

“According to the program, she’s close to last. My suggestion is that you do everything you can to try and make the performance. This is one of those make it or break it moments. If you want to be with her, then you’ll hunt down Superman and hitch a ride on his back. You get my point?”

“Yeah,” I said, half laughing. “I get your point. I’ll see what I can do.”

“You damn well better or I’ll never talk to you again.”

“Hmmm…”

“Fuck you, big brother. She needs you. Be here.”

As usual, the conversation ended when she determined it should, the line going dead.

My sister the matchmaker. One thing I couldn’t lie about. She was damn good at it.

I took a couple of deep breaths and decided to search for the event on my phone. Less than five minutes later, I found what I was looking for.

Suddenly, a presence was over my shoulder. Jagger, who’d decided to sit directly behind me.

“What is it, Jagger?”

“You going?”

To say I was shocked at his question at this point didn’t complete the gist of it. “Maybe.”

“Hey, John,” he called to our bus driver. “How long till we hit Seattle?”

“About an hour with no traffic,” John answered.