Free 96 Hours by Georgia Beers Page B

around the dining room of the strangers who’d been so kind. Brian’s gaze fell on a small red book on an end table and he picked it up, began thumbing through the pages.
    Abby returned with a square blue box. “I saw this on one of the shelves downstairs.”
    “Yahtzee?” Erica asked. “Seriously?”
    A flash of hurt zipped across Abby’s face. “I thought it would help us bond. What’s more American than the game of Yahtzee?”
    Erica had no comeback for that. Instead, she helped open up the box. “If we’re playing Yahtzee, I’m going to need another shot,” she said to Brian, whose face was still in the book. “What’s that?” Craning her neck to see the cover, she read, “‘If. Five hundred questions for the game of life.’”
    Abby handed everybody a score sheet and explained the rules. Taking the dice out, she handed each person one and said, “Highest roll goes first.” She then proceeded to roll herself a six.
    “Of course,” Erica muttered.
    “Wait.” Brian looked at the dice, then at the book in his hand, then back at the dice, a smile forming on his lips. “I’ve got a better idea. A way we can get to know each other. And maybe take our minds off this shit for a little while.” He picked up two dice and rolled them. A four and a six. “Page forty-six.” He flipped to that page, and read. “If you could rid the earth of one thing, what would it be?”
    Erica hated this game already.
    “Well, hell,” Brian went on, answering his own question. “That’s easy. Fucking crazy Middle Eastern terrorists. Duh.” His smile was forced and the anger in his eyes was nearly palpable.
    “Not exactly taking my mind off it,” Michael stated. “I don’t know about the rest of you.”
    “No, if we’re going to do this,” Abby said, the wheels in her mind turning, “we have to do it in an organized manner. We can’t just be blurting out questions.” She grabbed the dice. “I’m one, Erica’s two, Michael is three, and Brian is four. We’ll roll one die to decide who gets to answer—just roll again if you get a five or six. We’ll roll both dice to choose the page number of the book, like Brian just did. The reader can choose any question on that page. Capisce?”
    Brian nodded. Michael and Erica just blinked.
    “I’ll start,” Abby replied, not waiting for a response and rolling a die. “Three. Michael.” She rolled for the page, studied the questions, and smiled. “Okay. If you had to choose the single most charming person you’ve ever met, who would it be?”
    Michael didn’t need to think long. “I’d say Corinne’s right up there at the top.”
    Nods surged around the table. “I’ll drink to that,” Brian said, lifting his glass. They cheered and downed the shooters.
    “Hoo,” Erica said, closing her eyes momentarily. “I’m going to have to graduate to sipping from now on.” The world around her swam out of focus for a second, then cleared.
    The dice and book went to Michael, who rolled Brian’s number. “If you could own one article of clothing from any film, what would you take?”
    “Oh, that’s a good one,” Erica said. Abby agreed.
    “I’d have to say . . .” Brian scratched his chin. “I’d have to say Bogie’s hat from Casablanca. Coolest hat ever.”
    “Good choice,” Abby commended him, then turned her crystal blue gaze on Erica. “What would you have said?”
    “Lara Croft’s entire tomb-raiding outfit,” she replied without missing a beat.
    “Complete with guns?” Abby asked, arching an eyebrow.
    “Complete with guns.”
    “And would you actually wear it?”
    “Absolutely.”
    “You’d look hot.”
    “Damn right I would.” Erica could feel the guys watching them, but the tequila told her she didn’t care.
    “Brian,” Abby said after a moment of holding Erica’s gaze. “Your turn.”
    He rolled Erica’s number, scanned the page, and grinned wickedly. “If you were to become a prostitute, how much money do you think