Raising the Bar

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Dylan Warren paced outside the government complex and shivered in the cold December wind. Even in Augusta, Georgia, winters could get a bit chilly.

I can do this. It’s nothing but a thing. No one has to know.

After taking a deep breath, he let it out and entered the building, all the while cursing himself for letting Derrick take advantage of his generosity. How could he have forgotten for even a second that his twin was the Warren brother who never lost a bet?

Because of Derrick, the freakin’ Bears—who couldn’t seem to win a game—and his own stupidity, Dylan found himself doing something he hadn’t done in twenty years. God, I am too old for this shit. As he entered the narrow corridor leading to professional suicide, he tugged at the raggedy sweater that passed for Derrick’s Sunday best and swore again, clutching the handful of papers he’d memorized last night.

A gift for total recall was the only thing going in his favor today. He had a meeting with his mother later that he’d been dreading. As he waited in the quiet lobby of the planner’s office, he tried not to dwell on what might go wrong with Derrick’s stupid scheme. He had a hard enough time living up to his mother’s estimable reputation without getting caught playing dress-up. Christ, if Dr. Barbara Ann Warren got wind of this, he’d never hear the end of it. But then, that might be preferable to hearing about—

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