The Wager (The Bet #2)

“The list says that Madame is expecting us at one! We’re going to be late if we don’t go in.”


Jake licked his lips and looked at the building again. The windows were filled with pictures of women laughing and throwing confetti into the air while men danced with them. It was like a very bad tampon commercial gone wrong.

“No. And who the hell is Madame anyways?”

Char rolled her eyes. “It’s her name. Why, you scared you’re gonna grow a pair of boobs? You afraid your balls are gonna disappear?”

Jake snorted. “Fine, let’s go.” Irritated, he grabbed her arm with his left hand and pushed open the door with his right.

The room was blanketed in black.

“See, wrong address.” Jake released Char’s arm and pulled out his cell just as music began to fill the room. Then a few stage lights popped on, causing Jake to go blind momentarily. “What the hell?”

And then the singing began.

Char tensed beside him. More lights flickered on, although Jake had no idea where they’d come from; he was still seeing spots from the first ones. He tried to take a step to the side and ran into a table. Placing his hands on the table he looked down.

Pictures of shirtless Chippendale men greeted him.

He jerked back and bumped into something hard. He turned around to steady whatever he’d bumped into.

A naked statue.

Of a dude.

Where the hell was he supposed to touch? He reached out to grab the waist of the statue since it had conveniently been set on a table so that he was eye level with the nakedness, and was bumped by Char, who apparently had been fighting her own battle with a swarm of balloons in the shape of, er… parts.

“Holy crap.” Char grabbed Jake’s hand. “We have to make a run for it.”

“It’s like hell, only worse.” Jake agreed grabbing her arm.

“Welcome, welcome!” Came a voice over a loudspeaker.

“Holy shit, we’re officially in the Hunger Games.” Jake grabbed Char and put her behind him. “Just let me die first. Please God, let me die first.”

“I’ve been expecting you!” the female voice happily announced.

“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better,” Char whispered from behind Jake. “Oh, and by the way, it’s only romantic to sacrifice yourself for me if death isn’t the better option, twinkle toes!”

Jake paused. “You swore you’d take that to your grave!”

“Oops?” Char shrugged. “How many years were you in ballet? One, two?”

“Oops, my ass!” Why the hell would she bring up that old nickname? Now of all times? Had she any idea how emasculating it was?

“Just stay still—”

“I can both hear and see you,” the voice said. “And I don’t have all day. Now, let me examine you.”

“We’ve officially skipped Hunger Games and jumped into Saw.” Jake shook his head and yelled at the voice. “Can you at least turn out the lights? We can’t see you.”

“That, my dear,” the voice laughed, “is the point, is it not?”

“Er, not?” Char gave a hollow laugh.

“I do not have all day!” the voice yelled. “Now, separate. I need to see what I have to work with.”

Char slowly stepped out from behind Jake and stood, head held high. Jake had to admire that. Any other girl would have run out of the room. Shit, he was a guy and he was going to have nightmares.

“Not bad,” the voice said coolly. “Not bad at all.”

“Thanks.” Char grinned.

Jake rolled his eyes. “She’s only complimenting you so you’re all fat and happy before she kills you.”

“Sharp-tongued, that one,” the voice announced. “But you’ll do. Oh Jake, you’ll do just fine. Tell me, how comfortable are you with the stage?”

“Not comfortable.” Jake coughed. “Not at all, you see. I have this bad knee and—”

“His knee’s fine!” Char interjected with a wink.

He lunged for her just as the lights flickered off and the room returned to a normal state.

In the normal light, it wasn’t so daunting. It looked like a dance studio mixed with a really weird party shop.

“Hello!” A woman appeared from a balcony above them. “Sorry to put you on the spot like that, but your dear old grandma said you kids needed a good laugh.”

“Ha ha.” Jake was going to strangle his grandmother.

“Anyway, I assume you’ve been given instructions about the dance you’ll be performing?”

“Dance?” Jake asked.

“Performing?” Char echoed.

“But of course! I am Madame, the best dance instructor in the city.”

Yeah, Jake highly doubted that. The woman was at least his grandmother’s age and was at that point walking so slowly down the stairs that he was pretty sure she was actually aging before his eyes.