Page 36 of Misadventures And Ms. Demeanor

"Put it on speaker."

"What happened to the side of the RV?" she asked.

I glanced at JT. "What do you mean?" I asked warily.

"It looks like you struck an iceberg."

"Where are you?"

"A few hours from Fargo."

"Then how?—"

"You've gone viral. That RV is all over Facebook and Twitter. Seriously, Daphne, if you wanted to go all stealth with this Silky Tangles thing, it's over now. The cat's out of the bag."

"Speaking of cats," JT said. "Tell Esther she forgot something."

"I'm not Silky Tangles," I ground out through clenched teeth.

"Whatever," Goldie said like a teenager. "Is that George the Gnome in the windshield? How on earth did it get there?"

"How viral are we talking?" JT asked, skipping the gnome question.

"You're just passing mile marker twenty-three in Wyoming."

"Holy shit," he muttered, not realizing the abilities of social media.

"I can't sell the RV with that damage," Goldie added. "It does look like a unicorn."

"You dented the front of it way before the iceberg incident," I countered.

She didn't respond for a moment. "Just don't let all this publicity slow you down. You've got to be here tomorrow night, remember. Velma and Esther are going to lose it if you don't get here in time." I heard grumbling through the phone.

"The traffic is terrible, so I'll try my best." We were still over an hour from Sturgis and the road was like LA at rush hour.

"All right, I'll let you go. But, Daphne, change your shirt. If you're going to be on Facebook, you need to at least show a little cleavage."

Goldie hung up and JT tossed my phone back into my bag and said, "She's right. A little cleavage would be good."

"This isn't going to work,"JT muttered as we pulled into a rest area for a pee break. It had taken us an hour to get fifteen miles. The Sturgis Rally was so popular, so big, the roadways were inundated. We'd just crossed into South Dakota, but at this rate, we were never going to make it to Sturgis.

Because of the traffic, I hadn't known we were being followed. This wasn't James Bond style followed, this was Silky Tangles style followed. When we parked at one of the in and out spots, so did about fifty motorcycles and a few cars.

"You can't go out there," JT warned. "I can't protect you in the ladies' room."

"I have to pee."

"Screw Goldie's rule on the stupid bathroom. No one's going to buy this wreck now anyway."

I glanced at the crowd outside, then at JT. "You're right."

I climbed from my seat and made my way to the tiny bathroom. When I emerged, JT was on the phone. "I know. Yes. You've seen it. It is not a unicorn horn, it's a garden gnome. Why?" JT was in the recliner, slouched in the way only men could. His tone was tired, but resolved. "Shit, I forgot about the bike. Forget it. I'll get it fixed when you get back home."

He threw the phone in his lap, looked up at me. "I locked the outside door, in case someone gets a little fan crazy."

"What's going on?" I asked, grabbing a soda from the mini-fridge. I offered it to him, but he shook his head. I sat down at the table.

"I can't leave you."