Page 42 of Phoenix

Chapter 11

Case

I’m sitting on the sofa by the window, holding my phone up to my face, dialing a video call out to Justin to check on Arya.

He answers after only two rings. “Yes, Helicopter Dog Dad.”

“You’re an asshole.” I laugh. “And I don’t hover. I just wanted to check in on her.”

“Arya is perfect. She’s always great. I’d steal her away if it wasn’t kidnapping, and if you two weren’t so disgustingly cute together.” He flips the phone around and lets me see her.

She’s lying across their sofa with her head propped on the armrest, fast asleep.

“I miss her.”

“I’d be worried if you didn’t. She’s your right hand,” he says. “How’s Atlanta?”

The bathroom door opens before I can answer and out walks Nora.

“About to get even better,” I tell him.

She’s dressed in a very tight black dress with long sleeves and a high neck, but the back is completely missing.

The fabric hits right above her knees, showcasing her perfect legs, all the way down to her bright red fuck-me heels.

Her hair is loose, wild, a little wavy, and tumbling over her shoulders.

“Eww. Do I want to know why? If it has to do with vagina, keep it to yourself,” he says, and Nora clearly hears his voice, as it’s on speakerphone.

She simply smiles and laughs.

“Tell Arya I said I love her. I’ll check in tomorrow morning,” I say.

“Will do, Hoverer. Have fun tonight.”

We end the call and I shove my phone into the pocket of my jeans after rising from the sofa.

“Did you just call to check on your dog?” she asks, standing in the mirror, applying her red lipstick.

“I did. I like to know she’s okay. And well, I miss her.” I step closer to really take a look at her. “You look...WOW.”

She finally looks from the mirror to me. She’s kept her eye makeup simple, gold and bronze. She’s perfect.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.”

I dressed in a pair of dark wash jeans, a plain white tee and my leather jacket.

She tugs and fiddles with her dress a bit more, it seems it be a nervous habit.

Christ, I want to rip it off.

“Are you ready?” I ask her.

“As I’ll ever be.”

“You seem nervous,” I mention, as we step into the hallway.

“I am, a little.”

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