Page 37 of The Hitch
"Maybe."
For some reason, a pit grows in my stomach as I dress myself for work. The last few days with Melody have been enlightening, to say the least, but I'm officially The Dantalion. Duty calls. My suit is pressed to perfection. The deep indigo tie complements the charcoal grey of my Oxford shirt. I'd like to match the pocket square to the tie, but something tells me to tuck the skull-patterned panties I stole from Melody into the pocket instead.
"If you're leaving, am I allowed to go out?" Melody asks from the bed where she lounges, looking as edible as ever.
"With an escort," I reply, slicking my hair back. She grumbles irritably.
"Don't you have any women working for you?" She sits up and glares at me. "I'm sick of this sausage fest. And women can be plenty lethal—Francisco would have to agree."
I mull it over. My bodyguard teamismostly men, but Roman hired a woman about six months ago. Someone he knew from the military.I'd trust her with your life. A ringing endorsement. I've met her a handful of times. Roman assigned her to sentinel duty, if I recall correctly.
How very convenient.
"How silly of me. Of course. Roman will send her over later. Where do you want to go?" I ask as I slip on my Italian leather loafers, completing the look.
She shrugs. "Just out."
"Hmm." I whip out my phone and fire off a text requesting a female guard be assigned to Melody. Roman responds almost immediately, telling me that Helena will be here within the hour. "Done."
"Cool," Melody grunts with a half-hearted thumbs up. She rolls over and clicks on her phone screen, scrolling on some social media app.
"Enjoy your day, wife." I walk over and lay a tiny kiss on the side of her head.
"You, too."
My phone vibrates in my pocket as I listen to a new business pitch put together by The Vepar—something to do with pharmaceuticals. I sneak a peek at my phone and stifle a laugh. Melody's found her new credit card.
Purchase: $475.89
Purchase: $782.12
Purchase: $400.00
Interesting. A round number on the last one. I wonder what she bought. I tap out a message to her, trying to keep one eye on the presentation.
Enjoying yourself?
Wife
Starting to.
She sends through a photo of herself in the mirror of some boutique. My wife looks absolutely incredible in the deep emerald green wrap dress, posing with a cute little peace sign. Her new escort, Helena, looks wildly uncomfortable in the background. I swallow a chuckle.
Did you already buy that dress?
Yep. Like it?
Adore it. Do they have it in red?
I'll find out.
I click my phone over to silent and place it face down on the table, returning my full attention to the presentation. The image of my wife splayed out on the bed in that dress lingers in the back of my mind. She looks positively divine.
Melody
The sound of soothing ocean waves floats through the air as I recline in a massage chair. Calming lavender candles burn with tiny pops and crackles from their wooden wicks. A woman gently scrubs my scalp with some fancy shampoo while the massage chair squeezes my calves. This is bliss.
Pure bliss.
