Page 100 of The Fiancée Farce
“Later.” Gemma winked and reached around Tansy, opening the door. “But for now, after you.”
Tansy hopped out of the car and held a hand out for Gemma, who smiled and took it.
“Ready for this?” Gemma asked.
Tansy breathed deep, inhaling the smells of gasoline and crisp winter air. Adrenaline—the good sort, not the kind that made her stomach hurt and her brain go fuzzy—pumped through her veins. It wasn’t very different from the feeling she got when Gemma kissed her.
“Let’s do it.”
Gemma turned to Teddy. “The girls are good to go?”
His fingers flew across the screen of his iPhone. “I’m checking. And—we’re clear.”
On the other side of the garage, a security guard trailed after Yvonne, Rochelle, and Lucy, headed in the direction of Yvonne’s doodlebug.
“Ticktock,” Gemma murmured. “Time’s a wasting. Let’s do this thing.”
Teddy led the way through the garage to the stairwell door. He held it open, waving them through.
“Okay, Max, you head to the valet booth. Find Tucker’s keys. We’ll meet you at the car.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.” Max jogged ahead.
Gemma paused, looking left, then right, gaze sweeping the garage, eyes searching. She stood a little straighter when she spotted it. “There. The awful, ostentatious green one over there. That’s it. Perfect—he’s parked by the elevators.”
Wasn’t that a bad thing? The elevators could open at anymoment. Anyone could step out and catch them. “And that’s good because . . .”
“Because that means Tucker won’t be waiting for the valet to bring him his car.Meaninga poor, unsuspecting valet won’t get blasted with a face full of glitter,” Gemma said. “Tucker will.”
“Ah.” Tansy nodded. “Makes sense.”
The last thing she wanted was for some innocent valet to get caught in the crosshairs.
They wound their way through the maze of parked cars until they reached Tucker’s, and then they waited.
And waited.
Waited.
“What the hell is taking Max so long?” Gemma tapped her foot against the pavement, impatient. “How long do you think it takes to change a tire?”
“Depends.” Teddy cringed. “Me? About thirty minutes, but Max was right. I really don’t know a lug nut from my left nut.”
Gemma shut her eyes. “Come on, Max.Hurry.”
Footsteps thundered against the pavement, and a few seconds later, Max rounded the nearest pylon, holding a set of keys over his head like a trophy. “Do you guys know how many sets of Lambo keys there were? Eastsiders, man.Fuck.”
“Did you grab the right ones?” Gemma asked.
“Considering I grabbed them all”—Max’s jacket pockets jingled—“I sure as fuck hope so.”
“Shit, Max, are you serious?” Gemma raked her fingers through her hair. “We’re going to have to try all of these.”
“All seven, yeah.” Max passed them out, handing them each at least one set.
Tansy’s hands shook around the key fob Max gave her.
“No alarms, you all hear me? Just hit the unlock button, likeso.” Gemma pressed a button on her key fob, and a car on the other side of the garage beeped. She exhaled. “Tansy?”
