The Bachelor's Dare

“Claire, darling, you almost sound desperate.”

A flicker of something—fear, worry—flashed in her eyes, but in an instant, she was all Claire again. “No, just determined.” She fidgeted for a few seconds. Then she dug in her handbag and pulled out a bag of Hershey Kisses. She unwrapped two and popped one in her mouth. She offered the bag to him.

He shook his head. “A little early in the morning for a sugar high.”

“It’s never too early, or too late, for chocolate.” She popped in the second, chewed, swallowed. “Give me your place in line. I need that RV.”

“So do I,” Mark said. “Now, move over, twenty-one, and give the big boys some room.”

She crossed her arms over her knees. “I don’t think so.”

He crossed his over his chest. “I figured as much.”

They sat there like two store mannequins for the better part of an hour. A few other people hiked into the mall, suitcases and duffel bags in hand. All but two young boys turned away once they ran a count on those ahead of them. The boys settled down beside Claire and got into a mock sparring match.

At 5:00 a.m., a thin, wiry woman who looked like a steel rail came out from the mall offices, stood before the group and clapped her hands. “Okay, group, let’s begin!” She had a long, pinched face and black hair cut short enough for Mark to see her ears. He could imagine her as a gym teacher somewhere, shouting tortuous instructions with exuberance.

Lester continued hock-hocking away. His wife gave him a jab in the side. He jerked awake, blinking and looking around as though he had no idea where he was or why his wife had done that. “Is it time, Millie?”

“Shush.” Millie tucked her knitting needles into an I Love Bingo canvas bag. “Pay attention to the lady, Lester.”

Millie probably cut Lester’s meat into little pieces before dinner. She seemed the type.

“I’m Nancy Lewis, the community development coordinator for the Mercy Mall. We may be small, but we’re growing,” she said cheerily, using the trademark sign-off for the mall. Nancy smiled perkily and paced along the line. “I’d like to welcome you to the Survive and Drive contest! Only twenty of you will get the chance to win this fantastic motor home.” She ran her hand along the hull with the reverence of one of Bob Barker’s girls. “It’s a very expensive vehicle—an eighty-five-thousand-dollar value. It has a fully-equipped kitchen with gorgeous wood cabinets, a lounge chair, sofa, queen bed and dinette. We’ve added a couple of fold-up stools to provide additional seating. There are three televisions, one up front, one in the living area, and one in the bedroom. The shower comes with a power massage head and a skylight. Power windows, power locks and deluxe stereo system.” She slipped her hand along the side in a swoosh finale. “Anyone would be thrilled to take this motoring up to the Catskills or down the coast of Florida.”

Millie gave Lester another jab; he’d started to doze again. Claire, however, was paying close attention. Her gaze flicked between the RV and the woman, her muscles tensed, ready to spring should the number of contestants get stretched to twenty-one.

“I’d like to thank Deluxe Motor Homes for donating this magnificent RV. They’re celebrating their fiftieth anniversary in business here in Mercy by giving away one of their newest models. Let’s give a big thanks to Don Nash, the CEO of Deluxe.”

From the front of the vehicle came Don himself, a slight man in a tailored suit. Deluxe Motor Homes was one of the biggest employers in town and did a brisk business creating custom RVs for country singers and retirees. Mark supposed this contest promotion was a drop in their marketing budget bucket.

Led by Nancy’s wild bring-back-Tinkerbell-from-the-dead claps, the crowd applauded Don’s generous donation.

“Now.” Nancy clapped her hands together again. Mark wondered if her palms were starting to smart. “Let’s play who’s who among the competition before we board.” She pointed to the first person in line. “Why don’t you start?”

Mark craned his neck around Millie and Lester’s lawn chairs. A thin African-American woman wearing business clothes sat primly on one of the mall benches someone had dragged over by the RV. “I’m Adele Williams.”

“And…” Nancy prompted, waving her hand in a circular motion. “What do you do?”

“I’m a loan officer for Lawford First National.”

“Probably could have bought her own RV,” muttered Millie. She pulled out her knitting again. It seemed to be the thing she did when she was frustrated. Click, clack, click, clack.

Nancy went down the line and unearthed a few people Mark knew, a few he didn’t. There was John Madison, a guy he’d played football with. John was married and had two kids, a fact he gleefully shared, complete with photos. “They want to go to Disney World,” he said. “Two little kids, dreaming of Mickey.” He glanced around but no one expressed an iota of empathy.

There was Renee Angelo, a girl who’d been a class behind Mark. She told Nancy she wanted the RV so her grandmother could “retire in style.” Again, not an ounce of pathos from the group.

Then two makeup counter salesgirls, a security guard who looked about a hundred years old, three women who were stay-at-home moms and one guy who didn’t seem to have a job and couldn’t come up with a good reason for wanting the RV. “This girl asked me if I wanted to sign up,” he said with a shrug. “So I did.”

Then there was the bingo bunch, two couples about Millie and Lester’s age, who all talked of moving to Florida for the winter months. Millie apparently knew these folks and muttered about them under her breath as she click-clacked away. Number fifteen was a doctor. He checked his beeper twice while telling Nancy about his practice. Mark didn’t think he’d last long.

Claire was mute. She watched Nancy make her way down the line, eyeing them all like the second-ranked runner warily watching the first-ranked before the race’s start.

Sixteen and seventeen were a married couple on their honeymoon. They must be insane to want to spend their honeymoon in an RV with a bunch of strangers. They looked young and gullible, still at the age where they thought the world was going to hand them good things on a platter. A few short months ago, Mark had felt the same way. Funny how fast things could change.

Eighteen and nineteen were Millie and Lester. Twenty was Mark. When Nancy asked him what he did for work, he hesitated. “I’m… I was a salesman for a software development company but now I write training manuals.”

“How cool! Like for Microsoft?”

He snorted. “Not exactly.”

“And why do you want to win the RV, Mark?” Nancy flashed him a smile.

“I, ah…” What could he say? He was dead broke, he’d screwed up royally and he needed the RV to provide himself with both a reliable ride to California and a means to right the mistakes he’d made? Instead, he said the first thing that came to mind. “I want to go to Disneyland.”

“How sweet,” Nancy stepped over by Claire, then counted with her pointer finger. “I’m sorry, you’re twenty-one.”

“But I couldn’t pass for it,” Claire joked, using Mark’s one-liner as if trying to charm Nancy into letting her stay. “I’m Claire—”

“You’re twenty-one,” Nancy interrupted. “The rules say only twenty get on. Sorry.” She pointed to the board of rules. Then she walked back to the head of the line. “Okay, people.” She clapped twice. “Bags up! Let’s get aboard!”

Millie jabbed Lester again and stood while he folded their chairs and hoisted their bags. The others who’d missed being part of the lucky twenty wandered away.

Mark turned back to Claire. He’d never seen such a forlorn look in a woman’s eyes before. “I’m sorry, Claire.”

“Give me your place.” She gripped his arm. “Please, Mark. I’ve never asked a favor of you before, just give me this one thing and I’ll…” he saw her reach for the words, knowing from past history Claire wasn’t the type to ask anyone for anything, “owe you for the rest of my life.”

He hesitated. Any other day, if a pretty woman asked a favor of him, he’d oblige, charmingly offering a date in trade. They’d wine, dine, flirt, and before the end of the night, she’d be in his bed and he’d figure he’d been the winner.

But this wasn’t any other day. And these weren’t ordinary circumstances. For the first time in his life, Mark Dole was desperate. Desperate enough to ignore a beautiful woman’s smile and deny her the one thing she wanted. “I can’t, Claire. Sorry.”

Disbelief washed over her features. “You can’t tell me your trip to Disneyland is more important than my reasons.”

“And just why do you want to win that thing? It’s a bit big for your driveway, don’t you think?”

“I need to get to California.” She said it with such determination that he doubted she was lying.

“Buy a plane ticket.”

“A plane ticket doesn’t solve my problems. Besides, up until yesterday, I was a hairdresser at Flo’s Cut and Go. I’m rolling in blue hair dye and quarter tips, not dough.” Her gaze filled with entreaty again. “Please, Mark. I know you haven’t always liked me, but—”

“Who says I don’t like you?”

“All aboard!” Nancy cried. “Last call for the RV Train, bound for Florida or maybe Disneyland.”

Mark ignored the drill instructor. “Who says I don’t like you?” he repeated.

“Come on, Mark. We had the date from hell with Jenny and Nate. Don’t you remember? We fought over everything.”

He smiled. His memories included a spirited fight, yes, but also a spirited attraction. Why they’d never pursued that, he couldn’t recall. “I remember you were pretty warm that night.”

She let out a sigh. “That wasn’t me. It was the butter at the bottom of your popcorn bucket.” She shook her head. “That’s not the point. I need to get on that RV and win it.”

Mark raised his hands in a gesture of futility. “Sorry, Claire. I wish I could help you.” He picked up his bag, and crossed to the motor home. Behind him, he could almost hear the sound of Claire’s disappointment.

He’d arrived before her. He was number twenty. He’d earned his place on the motor home. But as he walked toward the prize he intended to win, he couldn’t have felt like a bigger heel if he’d been on the bottom of a pair of loafers.

Chapter Two

Claire clutched her suitcase and watched Mark climb the first step of the RV. She hated him and envied him and wanted to throw things at him, but truth was, she had arrived here one person too late. She’d blown her chance because she’d stayed on the phone too long. A few too many minutes of conversation with the nurse. And now she was left holding a suitcase, with no way to get to the coast. To her new life. To the first person she could call family in a long time.

Buy a plane ticket, Mark had said. If only it were that simple. She’d made a promise, and now, damn it all and damn it again, she was going to have to break it. And even worse, do so over the phone, with one end of the connection on a cell phone in Mercy and the other end in a room in California smelling of antiseptic.

Despair settled over her, heavy and thick. She’d come so far, risked so much, and now she was going to lose it all. Had she really thought she could pull this off? Change her life with a risky move like this?

She dropped the suitcase to the floor, sat down on top and buried her face in her hands. She would not cry. She would not—

“I can’t do it! It’s so small! I can’t—” One of the makeup-counter salesgirls came barreling off the RV, nearly knocking Mark over in her rush to flee. “It’s like a coffin in there!” She stopped in the courtyard, took in several deep gulps of air, then ran out of the mall.

“One down,” Nancy said. “Eighteen to go and we’ll have a winner.”

“No, wait!” Claire scrambled to her feet, grabbed her suitcase, and ran over to Nancy. “The last person hasn’t gotten on yet. Technically, the competition hasn’t started. And now, you only have nineteen. The rules said twenty.”

Nancy’s mouth turned in and she narrowed her gaze. “I can count. We had twenty, now we have nineteen.”

“The rules said—”

“The lady’s right.” Mark interrupted, still standing on the step. He flashed Nancy a winning smile. “I can see you’re a nice person, someone…understanding. She just wants a chance.” He indicated Claire. “You seem the kind who would give her one.” He leaned closer to Nancy. “Between you and me, I don’t think she’ll last more than a few hours anyway. Then you’ll be back to nineteen again, all before the mall opens. Besides,” he added on a whisper, “she might sue. It’s a sticky situation, considering I haven’t gotten on yet.”

Why would Mark help her? Especially after he’d turned her down earlier? Claire didn’t bother to try to understand his motives, not when her chance at boarding the RV was at stake.

The lawsuit implication seemed to sway Nancy. “Okay, get on. But remember,” she cautioned before Claire took a step, “I’m being very nice in giving you this chance.”

“Nancy, you’re all heart.” Mark flashed his best smile. It worked its usual magic, a trick Claire had seen a thousand times in the years she’d known Mark. He smiled and grown women swooned. Even hard-nosed Nancy melted—she returned his smile with a little giggle.

“Thank you.” Claire shook Nancy’s hand but the other woman barely noticed. Her gaze was entirely on Mark, until she was interrupted by a question from Don Nash and turned away with clear reluctance. “Let’s get in there, Mark.”

“Ladies first,” he said, gesturing before him.

Claire shook her head. “I know how you are. You just want to watch my butt. Get in there and I’ll watch yours instead.”

He arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you liked me. Or my rear, Claire.” Mark wasted a smile on her. Claire felt a flutter in her stomach that surely had to come from the three donuts she’d gobbled on her way out the door. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a pencil. “Here.” He handed it to her.

“What’s this for?”

“In case you want to capture the view.” Then he climbed the steps and entered the RV. Claire sighted her target and launched. Perfect aim. The pencil beaned his left temple.

“Hey!” Mark said.

Claire grinned. “I told you I don’t play fair.”

He leaned toward her. “Makes it all that much more interesting, doesn’t it?” There were a hundred other implications in his voice. She chose to ignore them all.

Once inside, Claire understood why the claustrophobic girl had run screaming from the motor home. Twenty people, with luggage, did not fit easily in a forty-five-foot trailer, no matter how nicely decorated the interior. Already, the air was stifling, filled with the odor of humans and the sickly-sweet stench of perfume. If Claire hadn’t had so much at stake herself, she would have left, too. The crowd was overwhelming.

Nancy entered the RV and grimaced. “Now that we’re all here, let’s start the competition.” She flicked a switch at the front of the vehicle and blessed cool air began to pump through the vents. “First, a few rules. The newspaper will be delivered daily and you can get local channels on the TVs, so you’ll stay current. There’s a full kitchen, with a stocked refrigerator and food cabinet. I’ll be bringing by fresh groceries, as often as they’re needed with a crowd this big. Just give me a list and I’ll do my best. A couple of area restaurants have graciously agreed to donate dinners for the next few nights. In exchange for a mention in the media coverage, of course.”

“Media coverage?” someone asked from the back.

“Oh yeah, didn’t I tell you? A crew from Ten-Spot News in Lawford will be out later today to film you. Sort of “The Real World/Survivor” in an RV. It was part of what convinced Deluxe to donate the RV. Anyway, Ten-Spot will be poking their heads in here from time to time. They’re on their way over right now. There was an accident on the interstate and they got delayed. So they missed the big boarding.” Nancy tapped a finger against her lips. “Maybe we could re-stage that, for the cameras.” She shook her head. “Anyway, back to the rules. You’ll all be in here with each other for a while, so be nice. No profanity, no lewd gestures,” she shot a glance at Mark that seemed to say she wouldn’t mind a lewd gesture from him later, “and no fighting. Sleeping will be a first-come, first-served kind of thing. There’s a queen bed in back, a double in the fold-out couch, another double on top of the cab and a recliner. The captain’s chairs up front are pretty comfortable, too. And then there’s the floor.” She tapped her foot against it. “Carpeted at least.”

Nancy went on to say that if they left the RV, they’d be disqualified. Stepping outside the vehicle for any reason was considered quitting. The competition would go on as long as there was more than one person inside. “Last to go takes the RV home,” she said, sweeping her hand around the room like Vanna White. “That’s it. Any questions?”

“How many hours do you think this will take?” Adele asked.

Nancy shrugged. “I don’t know. In the contest at Mall of America, there were two guys who lasted three months.”

A gasp went up from the crowd. Adele glanced at her watch. “I have to be at work by noon or use up a vacation day.”

Nancy gave her an indulgent smile, as if Adele were slow-witted. “I think you’ll be here past noon.”

Adele glanced around the crowded room, then sat on one of the kitchenette chairs. “I’ll have to call my boss.”

“There’s no phone in the RV. If you have a cell phone, you can use that. Otherwise, the only contact with the outside world will be through me.” She smiled graciously at them all. “I’d be glad to let your family know how you’re doing, or they could come by and visit while they shop, and talk to you through the window. Be sure to tell them that Joe’s Camping Store is having a big sale this week on camping gear, to go along with our promotion.” When no one else asked a question, Nancy gave them a little wave, wished them luck and got off the RV.

Claire saw clear relief in Nancy’s face when she took in a deep breath of canned mall air. When the door shut, Claire felt a twinge of panic. Nineteen other people. One RV. For days on end. What had she just gotten herself into? And what if it didn’t work out?

Mark’s gaze caught hers. “You okay?”

She drew herself up and took a breath. “Of course.”

“Of course,” he repeated with a smile that said he knew she was lying.

“I think everyone should stow their luggage in the bedroom,” Millie, the knitting grandma, said. “Lester, take our things back there.”

“Who made you boss?” said Roger, who’d just gotten married on Friday. He was only twenty-one, too young to be married, Claire thought. She’d cut his hair last week. Flat top, shaved sides, à la the marines. She couldn’t believe he’d talked his new wife, Jessica, into spending their honeymoon on the RV. She supposed it was better than spending the weekend at Jessica’s mom’s house, probably the only other option they could afford. Not exactly an auspicious beginning for married life, but Claire understood being blind to everything but love. Blind to a lack of money, blind to a lack of a job. Blind as a stupid bat, flying face-first into a wall of denial.

Millie pursed her lips. “Do you have a better idea, son?”

“Well, no.” Roger looked flustered by her challenge. “I think we should decide things by committee, though.”

Millie let out a sigh. “There is very little room in here, in case you didn’t notice. If we stow our bags in the bedroom, we have a private place to change our clothes.”

“Okay,” Roger said. For the next few minutes, there was nothing but the sounds of grunts and “excuse me’s” as each of them made their way to the bedroom and deposited their luggage.

“Well,” Millie said when they were done. “Anyone up for a game of canasta?”

The silence that greeted her made it clear how the crowd felt about card games. Somebody started a pot of coffee in the tiny kitchen. One of the men—Danny, the one who didn’t seem to have a job, Claire remembered—flopped into the driver’s seat, grabbed the satellite remote and turned on the TV. Typical.

“Awesome! I can watch every game in the country.” Danny immediately put the remote to use. A half second on each station until he knew exactly where ESPN and Fox Sports were located. Then he settled back in the chair and propped his feet on the dash to watch football.

“Glad you got on the bus to nowhere now?” Mark asked, coming up beside her in the corner she’d ducked into to stay out of the crush of people.

Lord, he was awfully close. Claire stiffened, trying to take up less space. “Of course.”

“Seems like it will be close quarters for a while. Think you can stand that?”

“Can you?”

“Oh yeah.” He leaned toward her. She could feel his breath tickling along her collarbone. “I like being close.”

She pulled herself away, as far as she could, which was about three inches. It was nowhere near enough distance. “Seems you’re not the only one.” She gestured toward Roger and Jessica.

The newlyweds had commandeered the sofa and stretched out along the length of it. They were half en-twined with each other and had already started on the honeymoon. Loud, sloppy sounds of kissing came from their corner.

“That’s not making love,” Mark said with disdain. “That’s wrestling.”

Laughter burst from Claire. The moment of détente felt good, the laughter a much-needed break in the tension she’d been feeling ever since she threw out her old life, sure the new one was just a matter of waiting out the rest of the competitors. But now she didn’t feel so confident about her decision.

Millie hurried over to the couch and rapped the surface with her knitting needle. Roger and Jessica broke apart and sat up. “There’ll be none of that,” Millie said, wagging her finger at them. “It’s disgusting.”

“Come on, grandma. We just got married yesterday.” Roger held up Jessica’s left hand as proof.

“Then get a room at the Motel 6. This is not the place for…for that.”

“We’re taking this RV on our honeymoon,” Roger said.

“When you win it, that’s when your honeymoon begins. Until then, I think you should sleep up front and your girl should sleep in the back, on the floor. Lester and I will have the bed and we can keep an eye on her.”

“Hey,” piped up Danny. “Who says you get the big bed?”

“Lester and I are the oldest,” she said, as if that settled it.

“No you aren’t, Millie,” called one of the other elderly people. “My Gracie here has six months on you.” That started another spirited disagreement about birth dates, which led into a game of one-upmanship about whose hip was worse and who deserved the bed more, based on their medical files.

Mark squeezed into the center of the room. “I have a fair way of deciding who gets the beds,” he shouted over the din.

Claire glanced up in surprise. Since when did Mark get involved in anything besides his own life? He’d never been the kind of guy to step into the middle of a mess. In high school, he’d always been content to ride the popularity wave. Now he was helping her, negotiating a sleeping peace treaty and generally acting like a nice guy—not like the Mark she remembered. Since he’d returned from California, something had changed. For good? Claire doubted it. Men like Mark didn’t make permanent personality changes.

Everyone quieted down and looked at Mark. He grabbed the deck of cards on the kitchen table. Millie opened her mouth to protest. “I only need them for a minute,” Mark said. He shuffled the deck and then held it aloft. “There’s sleeping for six in the beds, then two captain’s chairs and the recliner here in the living room. That makes nine comfortable places to sleep. Everyone takes a card. Highest cards get first pick. Tomorrow night, we deal again, so you always have a shot at a bed.”

There were a few grumbles, but no one disagreed. Mark circled the RV, letting each person take a card. He smiled when he got to Claire. “Maybe you’ll get a joker.”

“Already had one of those, thank you.” She took the first card from the deck. A jack of clubs. She stood a good chance at a comfortable place to sleep. After the sleepless night she’d had, it was a welcome thought.