Page 105 of Everything's Better With You
Leslie texted Joe once a day for the next few days just to make a connection, but they didn’t connect for a conversation. Joe hadn’t known what to make of their bizarre conversation and knew he needed to be patient with Leslie. Then came the most bizarre text Leslie had ever sent him in over fifteen years.
Do you have a couple of days off for the holidays?
Yes, dear. Even dancers get holidays off. I have Christmas Day through New Year’s Eve. Why?
Prepareto be liberated.
Joe should have known that Leslie’s cryptic text would turn into a fiasco.
Randy and Sandy showed up at the rehearsal space—Joe had no idea how they found out where he was—dressed in black suits and sunglasses, with earpieces in.
“I missed the memo whereMen In Black 5000was filming here,” Joe said to them, shooing them into the hall to not disturb the group that was performing at the time,
“We’re under orders to collect the package and transport on a private charter flight in T-minus thirty minutes.”
Joe’s eyes flared. “You’re kidding, right? I’m not done for another hour.”
They looked at each other, their freaky twin synchronized moves making them seem more like the creepy guys inThe Matrix. Nah, he thought.Men in Blackwas probably more their speed.
“Well make yourself done.”
“Yeah,” Sandy chimed in. “We’re under orders.”
Joe rolled his eyes. It really was no big deal. His routines had already been rehearsed. He was just hanging around to provide moral support, and there was the issue that he had nothing to do. Literally nothing. He’d already shipped out the few Christmas gifts he had for friends and co-workers before leaving Ayre Valley. He was going to be eating Chinese food with Arthur on Christmas Day since Arthur’s main squeeze was away working, and neither felt like cooking. Then he planned on going to a friend’s studio the rest of the week off to work on choreography for his second-semester classes.
“I need to grab my things—”
“You don’t need to bring anything with you.”
“My suitcase is at the hotel, though—”
“We’ve already retrieved it.”
“What the… Okay, you guys are starting to freak me out. What the hell is going on?”
Sandy lowered his glasses and smiled. “Sorry,” he stage-whispered. “We’re just having some fun. We talked to your manager and he helped us out. We already packed up your stuff.”
Randy cleared his throat and frowned. “No more stalling.We’re taking you to our boss. You have a lot to answer for, Twinkle Toes.”
“Not really,” Sandy whispered as he led Joe out the door. “Just play along, he doesn’t get to have fun like this much in Iowa. Just go with it.”
Joe shook his head and pulled his zip-up hoodie a little tighter around him in the chilly air.
Out front of the soundstage where they’d been rehearsing was a long black limousine. Randy opened the door and held his hand to his ear. “The package has been acquired,” he said, presumably to someone.
Joe climbed in the backseat, suddenly aware that he was a sweaty mess and wasn’t wearing proper shoes. “Guys, really, can we go back to the hotel first?”
“Sorry, Joe,” Agnes said with a little wave. “I gave birth to them, but please don’t hold me responsible for their behavior.”
She held out her arms for a hug and Joe winced. “I’m really,reallysweaty.”
She gestured for him to come on. “You know all four of my sons played football? And my husband?”
Randy and Sandy slid in and sat across from Joe and Agnes. Randy knocked on the window and the limousine pulled away from the curb with a lurch, nearly sending Joe sprawling.
Joe accepted a glass of champagne. “It’s not drugged, is it? Do I get to know where we’re going?”
“Oh,” Sandy said. “Here. This will give you a clue.”
