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“Okay. Fine. As long as you’resurewe won’t go to jail if we get caught. Worst case scenario, we just end up back at the resort. Right?”
“Right.” Marge nodded. “They’ll just tell us to turn around and get the hell out of there. Even though theyshouldlet us through because we’re Americans, but unless we can prove it, there’s a chance we don’t get across. But if we do, then we’re home free. We’ll get to the wedding, they’ll send our passports to our mailing address, and boom. Problem solved. It’s my fault we’re in this situation, so I’m gonna get us out of it.”
“Are we really doing this?” Doris asked, her voice lifting. “Are you sure it’s safe?”
“Hector at the front desk is good people,” Marge said. “I’ve been chatting it up with him since we got here. He wouldn’t send us with someone unsafe. All we’re doing is jumping in a car with this guy he knows, and we’re making a break for the border. But here’s the deal, we gotta cross at night. So tomorrow night, we ride out.”
“I can’t believe we’re seriously considering this.” I palmed my face.
“It’s either this, or we miss your wedding.” Marge clucked her cheek. “I’m game for giving it a good old-fashioned college try if you ladies are.”
“What the hell. I’m in,” Alice said. “I don’t want Sylvie to miss out on my surprise. I guess it’s worth making a run for the border.”
“As long as you’re sure we won’t go to jail. I’m not cut from the right material for jail.” Doris shook her head then turned to Marge with wary eyes.
“We won’t go to jail. You have my word.”
They all looked at me.
Visions of kissing Tom at the altar of the vineyard flooded me with a warmth that heated me up right to the core of my soul. My love. My heart. My Tom. And soon, my husband. Though I still had some uncertainty hidden in the back of my mind, I knew deep down that he was the one for me, and whatever it was giving me pause would disappear the moment I felt his lips on mine.
“Okay. I’m in. Set it up.”
“You ladies trust me. I’ve got this.” Marge pushed up from her stool.
“Mmmmhmmm,” Alice said, arching a brow. “I’ve heard that before. And I believe we ended up stranded in the jungle the last time you said those words.”
“I’m gonna fix this. My mess, my problem to solve. Ladies, get ready. We’re going home tomorrow night!”
She hurried off, leaving the three of us sitting in silence at the bar.
Finally, Alice took a long swing of her martini, set it down, and said, “We’re going to Mexican prison, aren’t we?”
“Yep. Definitely,” I answered, then downed the rest of my drink.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
