Blended Ch 30

“Whoever you’re trying to get into trouble, don’t. Just don’t,” Piper says sternly.

“I love that you think you can just read exactly what’s going on in my life.”

“I know you do. I need you to talk to Chadlee and have Chadlee talk to Ash and then have Ash casually mention to Flynn and Graham that there’s going to be a wet T-shirt contest at the roadhouse—”

“RaceHaus. It’s called RaceHaus,” Sammy says.

“Yeah, whatever. They need to know that. And they need to know that I’m going to be there.” Piper has to make Flynn notice Kayla and make it clear to CCL that Bella is fun. If she’s going to solve everyone’s problems, she may as well be efficient about it.

“Some chicks chasing that fantasy with Flynn and Graham like everyone trying to get that briefcase in Pulp Fiction. That you? Because that’s a pretty exclusive club, Piper.”

“Are you in that club?” Piper knows that Sammy and Flynn have hooked up.

“I didn’t realize we were such intimate friends that we tell each other about those things. You go first.”

“I would enjoy that conversation, Sammy. Some other time. Can you do it?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“What do you want?”

Sammy folds his arms and considers it. “You’re friends with that soccer girl, right?”

“You mean Riley Jameson?”

“Big booty redhead.”

“She’s my stepsister. And it’s not that big. It just… calls attention to itself.”

“No shit. Set me up with her.”

Piper rubs her temples. “What—what kind of setup are we talking about here?” Sammy isn’t shy. If he wants to ask Riley out, he’ll just do it.

“I don’t know. Something funny. Rom com meet cute.”

“I didn’t know she was your type.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me. But I’ve caught you checking me out enough times that I feel like I know a little about you.”

“Do you know a blonde with tats named Meghan?”

“Biker chick. Hot. Volunteers and participates in stuff so she can bang bi-curious freshmen. Incredible abs.”

“I think Riley is literally on a lunch date with her right now.”

Sammy chews his lip. “I like those odds. What kind of hustle are we doing at RaceHaus?”

“You want in? Because this is a Disney movie, Rube Goldberg device-level plan. Makes Ocean’s Eleven look like kids’ stuff.”

Sammy draws himself up. “I would be offended if I wasn’t at least offered a role.”

“OK. You, earmuffs,” Piper says to the clerk, who looks annoyed, but obligingly walks away. She turns to Sammy and leans in conspiratorially to whisper in his ear.

Sammy considers the plan, then folds his arms and assumes a thoughtful expression. “Your plan is dumb. I love it. I can personally guarantee that it will work insanely well. That is, if my conditions are met.”

“I won’t make up a meet-cute. I have scruples. But I can figure something out to get you a foot in the door.”

Sammy is smart. He knows that he can’t just ask Riley out; he needs a pretext to be around her so that he can take his shot at charming her.

Agree to Sammy’s terms?

Or find another way?