Page 15 of The Best Trick

“We need to jump on this now,” Odin said. “Zeus’ll be out on his run for another hour. I say we go now.”

“We could say I wanted to shop at the boutiques,” I suggested. “If Zeus gets back before we do, he'll feel like he dodged a bullet.” My guys hated boutique shopping.

“Perfect,” Odin said.

“But we'll have to actually stop at a boutique to make it be true,” I informed them. “And do some actual shopping. Maybe even bring home some proof, like a cute new sundress.”

They groaned.

I wrote the note, and then the three of us shambled on our Newsome disguises. Ten minutes later we were on the road, heading away from the coast toward Harley's hot air balloon service, which would be opening in an hour. We were hoping to catch him before his first ride.

After what seemed like forever of us driving inland, we pulled into Harley’s place, a dusty expanse of fenced-in land that was mostly barren except for a large metal warehouse-type outbuilding. “Balloon rides by appointment only except Sundays noon to six” was hand-painted in block letters on the side of it.

A bearded man in overalls worked at a pump-type contraption at the far corner near an old red pickup truck. He stood and squinted as we drove across to where he was, regarding us with open suspicion.

Odin pulled up and parked next to the truck, and we got out.

“Rides by appointment only,” he said, wiping a large wrench with a rag, roving his eyes over elderly Thor with his beret, arty Odin with his man bun, and me with my breasts.

“Are you Harley? Are you in charge here?” Thor asked.

The man poked his tongue into the inside of his cheek, making a bump that appeared and then disappeared, and then appeared again. He didn’t like our questions or the way we looked—that’s what I was getting from the cheek-poking thing.

“Who wants to know?”

“Has anybody by the name of Theo Talbott made a balloon ride reservation?” Thor asked. “It would have been for a couples’ romantic ride, probably for tomorrow, though we're not really sure.”

“My customers’ reservations are none of your business,” he said.

“Of course,” Thor said, taking a diplomatic tone. “We just wanted to tell you that, if you’re renting a balloon ride to this guy, you might want to rethink it. He has a history—”

“What did I just say?” Harley barked.

“We wanted to save you some possible hassles,” Thor suggested.

“We just don't want anybody to have trouble,” I put in.

“And who the hell are you to define what trouble is?” Harley asked my breasts. “What do you know about trouble?”

My breasts had seen a fair amount of trouble, that’s for sure, but that was the sexy kind of trouble. The kind of trouble Zeus would cause if Harley didn't want four people up in his balloon would not be the sexy kind of trouble, that’s for sure. Meeting Harley now, it wasn't much of a stretch to imagine that he wouldn't enjoy having the four of us up in his balloon for a romantic ride—not even a PG one.

“Who are we to define what trouble is?” Odin asked. “We’re people who know Theo Talbott, that’s who. He shouldn’t be allowed up in a balloon—he’s going to be a problem up there. If you have a reservation, I would strongly suggest canceling it. We'd be more than willing to pay you to make up for the loss of the ride. Maybe even throw in a bit extra for your willingness to be flexible.”

Thor said, “We're truly trying to protect you—”

“Do I look like I need protection? Is that what youfolksthink?” Harley spat out the wordfolkslike he didn’t want it in his mouth too long. “The only problem here is I got some ponces thinking they can tell me how to run my own business, telling me who I can and can’t take up in my own balloon, but last I checked it was a free country and I can damn well take up whoever I want. This Theo and his lady want a romantic hot air balloon experience? I'll give them the hot air balloon experience of a lifetime.”

More like Zeus would give Harley the hot air experience of a lifetime, but of course I didn't say that, and neither did my breasts.

“Look,” Odin said, “how about we pay you double the fee to rent Theo’s spot?”

This was plan B. Money. It was also plan C, D, E, F, and G–Z.

I handed a stack of bills to Odin, more of the stash from the First National Bank in western Nebraska. We didn't have a lot of money from that heist left, but the three of us were willing to pay a lot of money to avoid the type of romantic hot air balloon experience of a lifetime that Zeus might end up creating.

Harley eyed the money, poking his tongue into the side of his cheek—poke, poke, poke. It looked like a little animal was trapped in there, trying to push its way out. A vole, perhaps.

“That's double and then some,” Odin said.

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