Flirtinis with Flappers (31 page)

"And you have no idea why we were put into this…game," I asked slowly. "It's not for some bizarre new reality show, is it?" That would be just my luck.

"No. This stuff is top secret. We'd never put it on TV," The Rat said, much to my relief. "But I'll tell you what. These games aren't cheap. Someone paid good money to set this up for you."

"Tom! I bet it was Tom."

Surprised, I glanced at Nick, my eyes widening at the recognition dawning on his face. Had he figured out who had set us up? Was it someone he knew?

"Do you know a guy named Tom Fitzgerald?" Nick asked The Rat.

"Yeah, sure," The Rat said, mouth full of cheese. "That's the CEO."

Nick's face grew red. "Oh my God. I'm going to kill that bastard."

"Tom? You mean your brother Tom?" Realization was coming on like a tidal wave, though a bit late. "Your dot-com billionaire brother Tom? The one who's always trying to get me to take you back?"

"Of course," Nick said. "It makes perfect sense now. Tom's been working on some top secret video game thing for the last few years. I was always asking him about it, but he refused to spill the beans. Claimed he didn't want to see his life's work showing up on the six o'clock news. I figured he was developing a new Pac-Man or something. Shows how much I know."

"So your brother is behind this? Has he been watching the whole time?" I imagined some multi-monitored control room with lots of flashing lights. And Nick's geeky bro chowing down Cheetos as he watched us make love. Sharing in that personal moment that should have been just the two of us. "How horrible!"

The Rat shook his head. "Don't worry, princess," he assured me. "We have privacy standards in place. Peep shows are strictly forbidden. You start to look like you're about to get it on, we cue the roaring-fire shot. Just like on the soaps."

"So this whole thing is recorded, then?" Nick asked, looking more than a little worried.

"Sure. Not like we're about to stream it on Netflix or anything," The Rat said. "But we figure our clients would probably enjoy the replay."

I shook my head, trying to take it all in. "So, our missions. All that changing history or not. What was that all about? I mean, if it's a game, it has to have a goal. An object. A way to win."

"Haven't you figured that out yet? You two really are a bit dim." He sighed. "The object of the game was to get you two back together, obviously. To admit you were both stubborn idiots and fall back in love."

I stared at the rodent. That was it? That was all I had to do? Here I thought I was trying to save the world. And all I really needed to do was save my own heart.

Nick burst into laughter. For a moment, I wasn't sure I found the scenario quite so funny. But his laughter was infectious, and soon I found myself giggling along with him. It was just too bizarre. Too surreal. What else could you do but laugh? Even if I was going to kill Tom dead next time I saw him.

"Leave it to Tom to come up with something so complex," Nick said, shaking his head. "This is like the twenty-first-century version of locking two people in a closet to work out their differences." He reached over and squeezed my shoulder. "I guess we won then," he said, looking at me with loving eyes. "We beat the game."

"Hm," The Rat said thoughtfully. "Maybe. Though you might get bonus points for a heavy make-out session…" He looked from one of us to the other then sighed as we made no move to comply while he was watching. He scampered off the bed. "I was so hoping for that lesbian thing to have played out," he muttered as he headed toward the exit.

I watched The Rat scamper under the door, then turned to Nick, catching his blue-green eyes. Soon I'd be looking into his real brown eyes once again. Touching his real body.

"I can't believe this," I murmured. "All of this crazy setup just to get me to fall back in love with you."

"It was worth it," he replied, reaching over to take my hand in his, "to get you back."

I smiled. Even the shock of finding out it was all a game couldn't dampen the love I felt for this man.

"So now we go back to our real lives, I guess," I said. "You won't mind that I'm scarred and ugly in my real skin? I'm not as pretty as Louise, that's for sure."

"Are you kidding?" Nick asked in an incredulous voice that even I couldn't help believing. "You're the most beautiful girl in the world."

He leaned forward, cupping my chin in his hands, and pressed his lips against mine. Then he pulled away. "I love you, Dora."

I grinned. "I love you, Nick."

And suddenly everything went black.

Valentine's Day

The present

I'd never seen so many heart-shaped balloons in one place before: rubber, foil, sparkly. Normally a hater of all things saccharine sweet, I'd have groaned at the over-the-top Valentine's Day decorations. But now each and every obnoxious balloon was an indicator that I was home.

Home. In the twenty-first century. In real life.

A half hour ago I'd opened my eyes and found myself in the same titanium room they'd put me to sleep in, with the same gel cap over my head, wearing the same suit I'd had on before. Technicians in white coats welcomed me back, congratulated me for winning the game.

"How long have I been gone?" I asked. Had it been days, weeks? I had no sense of time, and it was freaking me out.

A female technician with long blonde hair glanced at her watch. "A little over three hours," she said. "Time runs differently in the game," she added, seeing my shocked expression. "It's sort of like with dreams. You can have ten-minute dreams that seem to go on for days. It's the same with this."

Okay. Well, that was a little comforting. I guess. At least I didn't waste weeks of my life on this thing. But still! It wasn't as if I had consented to any of this. Well, I sort of did, with the whole FBI thing. But completely under false pretenses.

"We have to do it this way," she said. "Otherwise, think of all the contingencies. Food, water, bathroom. Missing work."

I screwed up my face, realizing something else. "Wait. Does this mean I'm on the air tonight?" Did I still have to find an interviewee who was too stressed for sex? At least now I no longer counted myself in that group.

"No, we took care of that," the technician said. "You don't need to go back to work tonight, and you have the rest of the week off as well."

"I do?" I stared at her. These people thought of everything. Which was good, actually, seeing as I could barely form words at the moment, never mind try to report live.

She patted me on the shoulder. "You do," she assured me. "Now, come with me, and we'll get you showered."

I climbed out of the chair and followed her out of the room, grateful for the opportunity to clean up. I may have only been out three hours, but I was feeling kind of ripe.

I let the hot water cascade over me, still in a daze. I had so many unanswered questions. I was also a little angry still, to be honest. To have been tricked like that. Though I had to admit, the end result was pretty great. And I never would have gone through with the whole thing if I'd known in advance…

All I knew for certain was I had to find Nick. To see him with my own eyes. To hold him with my own hands.

After showering and changing into a new suit they'd provided (they really did think of everything!) I was led down a hallway and into a large conference room, decorated for a party. There was cheese and fruit and dessert plates. A bartender in one corner poured glass after glass of champagne. Helium balloons blanketed the ceiling. And there were people. Many people. None whom I recognized but who were all, to my relief, dressed like they belonged in the twenty-first century.

"Congratulations, sweetie!" A petite blonde woman with sparkling purple eyes pushed through the crowd of people and stopped in front of me. She was wearing a lacy corset top and skinny jeans. "You did it! I knew you could. You were awesome too. Truly awesome."

Awesome. It was amazing how nice twenty-first-century slang sounded to my ears. "Um, thanks?"

She laughed. "Sorry," she said. "I'm Daisy. Well, I'm really Joanne. But I played Daisy in your game."

My eyes widened. "Oh!" I cried. She was Daisy? I gave her a once-over. Besides her height, she looked nothing like the vivacious flapper I'd grown to love. "Sorry, I'm a little out of it still, I think."

"No prob." She smiled. "It's a little overwhelming, I know. I remember the first time I played. I was completely freaked out, let me tell you. But then I met Sarah." She turned and motioned for a tall, buxom blonde in the corner to come over. The girl hustled to Joanne-slash-Daisy's side, putting an arm around her waist and smiling down at me. Ah-ha. Guess the lesbian thing wasn't just part of the act. And it made me happy to know that at least in real life, Daisy had found her girl. "Sarah played Machine Gun," Joanne explained.

I raised an eyebrow. Machine Gun? So, wait. That meant…

"Huh," I marveled. "Wow. So you don't have to—"

"Nope. You can play a guy or a girl. Your choice. It's kind of fun for Sarah and I. I mean, we're real-life partners. But it's a new experience to try being with each other as the opposite sex." She grinned at her girlfriend. "The morning you caught me sneaking out of the speakeasy, that wasn't in the script. I never thought you'd wake up so early. So we improvised. Daisy was never supposed to be a prostitute in the original version of the game. But that's the cool thing about the Time Warrior system. The world itself is static, but the characters are completely dynamic. So while you were talking to Machine Gun Sarah here, we were busy rebuilding. Injecting a Mrs. Grundy character into the game to play the Madame at the last minute. That's why she probably seemed a little out of place, what with the whole shotgun scene and all. We had to
steal her program from an Old West VR we did last week and didn't have much time to customize."

"I see," I said, though in reality, I was pretty lost. This all seemed so complex. "So what was with the lesbian stuff then? How did that all tie in?"

"That was all Joanne," Sarah said, digging an elbow into her partner's ribs. "She wasn't supposed to kiss you."

Joanne blushed. "Yeah, yeah. Well, it seemed unfair that you had a girlfriend in the game, and I was stuck as a sidekick."

"Could be worse," a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and eyes said as he walked up behind the girls, putting a hand on each of their shoulders. They looked up at him and giggled in sync. "You could have spent the game as a rat."

"Ratty?" I asked, pretty sure my mouth was gaping at this point. So, he really was good-looking in real life. Go figure.

He laughed. "Ratty. Special Agent Rogers. Trent Buckman. Whatever." He reached out a hand, and I shook it. "Good job, kiddo. You were one of the best players we've had in a while."

"This is all so… I mean, I…" I didn't know what to say. Where to start? "So you've done other games," I stammered. "Do the others know they're playing in advance? Or are they given the time-travel spiel as well?"

"Most people know," Joanne replied, looking a little sheepish. "They sign all the contracts, disclosures, the works. But Nick's brother knew that wouldn't work for you two. He said you were…stubborn. No offense."

I sighed. "Yeah, well, I guess he wasn't wrong." 

"It's okay," Ratty—er, I mean Trent—said, patting my arm. "It'll take a few days to all sink in. The important thing is you won the game. So go collect your prize." He motioned across the room, past the buffet and bar and silly decorations, under the banner that read
Time Warriors
.

Nick.

My breath caught in my throat. My heart fluttered.

He was dressed in a black suit with a navy-blue tie. Armani, if I could hazard a guess. Dashing Nick. The Ryan Reynolds of network news. One of
People Magazine's
"50 Most Beautiful."

And the man who loved me more than anyone. Silly, scared, scarred me.

But then, I wasn't anymore, was I? I'd been through hell and back, even if it had been a game. I'd dared big. I'd risked my life. I'd defied danger. And I'd come out the other side. Okay. I was still physically scarred, to be sure. But mentally, I was feeling pretty darn good about myself.

I quickly said my good-byes to the actors and hustled across the room.

"Nick," I cried, approaching him.

His eyes lit up as he saw me. "Dora!"

"Nice to see you got your skin back,"

"Nice to see you got yours," he said with a grin, his eyes dragging up my body in a way that made me tremble. Scarred and all, there was no mistaking that look. He wanted me. The real me.

As much as I wanted him.

"I just met the actors who played Daisy and Machine Gun. And The Rat. I just met the guy who played Ratty!"

He grinned. "It's all crazy, huh? I still feel like I'm dreaming."

"Me, too. It doesn't seem real. Yet…"

"Yet you're here," he said shyly. "And you're speaking to me. In the end, I think that's all that matters."

He pulled me into an embrace, and I pressed myself against him. Feeling him. Rejoicing in his touch. His real-life touch. We held on to each other, neither seeming to want to let go.

He pulled away first. "I have something for you," he said, reaching into a bag. He pulled out a large box wrapped in ribbon. "I've been wanting to give this to you forever, it seems."

I took the box and pulled at the decorative bow. Then I lifted the cover.

Roses. Dried and pressed into a glass frame.

I looked up. "Are these…?"

"I told you the reason I was late was I had to run all over Baghdad to try to find some roses. I know you love them, and I wanted our Valentine's Day to be special." He shrugged sheepishly. "When you disappeared, I brought them home and put them in a vase. Even though I knew you wouldn't be able to appreciate them, I couldn't bear to throw them out. And every day you were gone, I looked at those roses. And I vowed that someday, somehow, I'd be able to give them to you."

I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but there was no reason to brush them away. "And now you have," I murmured, looking down at the frame. Each petal had been carefully preserved, pressed into glass. They were the most beautiful flowers I'd ever seen.