QUOTE : My cell phone rang on the table. I never went far without it, even in the house. I picked it up. An unlisted number. Oh goodie.<br />“Nevada Baylor.”<br />“I need to talk to you,” Mad Rogan said into the phone. “Meet me for lunch.”<br />My pulse jumped, my body snapped to attention, and my brain shut down for a second to come to terms with the impact of his voice. I’d slap myself except my mother and grandmother already thought I was nuts, and hurting myself would get me committed for sure.<br />“Sure, let me get right on that.” Hey, my voice still worked. “Should I bring my own chains this time? Or do you have bigger plans, and this is some freaky murder foreplay”—why did the word <i>foreplay</i> just come out of my mouth?—“and I’ll end up cut up into small pieces inside some freezer at the end? I can just spray myself with mace and shoot myself in the head now and save you some trouble?”<br />“Are you done?” he asked.<br />“Just getting started.” I was so brave over the phone.<br />“Lunch, Ms. Baylor. Concentrate. Pick a place.”<br />“You seem to be under the impression that I work for you and you can give me orders. Let me fix that.” I hung up.<br />Grandma looked at my mom. “Did she just hang up on Mad Rogan?”<br />“Yes, she did.