The Shameless Hour (The Ivy Years #4)

“Please don’t do this,” I said, my voice low. “It’s not a good idea.”

Her eyes flared. “It’s an amazing idea. You said so yourself.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to be calm. “It’s just not safe. I know you want to make your point, but anything could happen.”

Bella squared her shoulders. “I’m doing this my way, and I’m going to say what I came here to say. But thank you for your input.” With one more irritated glance, she disappeared around the nose of the van.

Dios. I’d been dismissed. How utterly familiar.

So of course I spent the next three hours standing at a distance, watching for trouble and thinking of all the ways it could all go wrong.

Over at Bella’s mission control center, the crowd of models around the van had swelled considerably. Each of them was taller and more stunning than the last. They were all wearing the type of full-on makeup that a guy didn’t usually see at a Harkness football game. If only my stomach would stop churning, I might be able to enjoy the show.

Bella sat inside the rental van, aiming a pair of binoculars into the Beta Rho tent where the anniversary party was held. When the football game started, partiers began streaming into the stadium. I watched them walk past me, faces red from the November chill and from drinking a few too many beers.

The Beta Rho guys were the drunkest of the lot. I wasn’t sure whether that made things easier or more perilous for Bella’s big plan.

Please let this work, I kept saying to myself. Because bargaining with God was always an effective strategy for success. And if things went bad, the phone jammed into my pocket was the only weapon I had.

There was only one saving grace — Beta Rho was a football frat. And since Bella intended to pull off her stunt during halftime, that meant that a good portion of the current membership would be in the locker rooms when it went down.

So that was something.

After the Beta Rho tent had emptied and I’d heard the crowd in the stadium roar quite a few times, Bella and Lianne got busy. They lined up the tall women they’d hired to help them and spent a good long time explaining their plan. Lianne kept checking her phone, probably keeping an eye on the game clock. Announcements echoing from inside the stadium let me know that the second quarter of the game had already begun.

Bella and Lianne pulled two long rolls of fabric from the back of the van. Each roll was mounted on poles. They were obviously banners of some kind, though I couldn’t see their design. Each banner was assigned to a pair of models. The tricky part came next. Bella handed out burgundy-colored file folders to each of the remaining girls. With animated hand motions, she explained what to do. And then she explained it again.

I couldn’t decide if I was more worried that Bella’s plan would fail, or more worried that it would succeed. If it failed, she’d be crushed. If it succeeded, she’d be in danger. My stomach was in knots now.

After the pep talk, the tall girls shed their sweatpants, revealing tiny little shorts underneath. Then Lianne passed out Beta Rho baseball caps, which they donned. Finally, all the women picked up a shopping bag from the back of the van and began walking toward the stadium entrance. I waited for them to pass me, and then I jogged to reach Bella. “Hey,” I said. “Good luck in there.”

When she turned her face to mine, there was a soft expression on it. “Thank you.”

I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Please don’t take any chances. If this goes bad, just get the hell away.”

“Okay.” Her eyes dipped, then met mine again. “I promise.”

“Go get ’em.”

Bella held up a hand. “Hold up. I need to make a call.” She yanked her phone out of her pocket and dialed. “Graham? You’re in the press box, right? I need you to get yourself somewhere you have a good view of sections six and seven. That’s where all the Beta Rho guys are sitting together. And bring a video camera.” There was a pause. “I can’t tell you why. But the minute you see people passing out papers over there, start filming right away. This is important.” She listened again. “I know I’m a pain in the ass, Graham. But get over there, okay? You’ll get a great story out of it. And if anything goes wrong, I need that on video, too.”

My stomach gave another lurch.

She stowed her phone and clapped her hands. “Okay. Let’s go!”

I followed fourteen of the most attractive women in the zip code through the stadium arches. An usher ripped my ticket, and I was inside. But where to stand?