Page 45 of Salute, To Bravery
“Who was it?” Angie’s voice sounds way too excited.
“Wanna tell me why I just got my weight in flowers delivered?”
I search for a card but can’t find one in the massive arrangement.
“Like them? I’m not even sure what kind they are,” I admit to her, finally giving up on finding who sent them.
“They’re pansies, like you. One for every year I’ve had to deal with you. Later!” She hangs up with a cackle.
I snap a picture and text it to War.
Me: She’s lost her ever-loving mind.
War: Well, she is your best friend. You drive everyone insane.
Me: Fuck you. By the way, what are you wearing tonight?
War: Guess we should keep it simple. Jeans, boots and white T-shirts?
Me: Agreed.
War: See you at seven.
I throw my empty water bottle out and go into my bedroom to sort through my closet to find items that should match whatever War is wearing.
Unless Jessenia is intimately aware of his tattoos, she shouldn’t be able to tell us apart. At least not until we want her to. A smile creeps across my face.
This is going to be so much fun.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand and start a mental countdown. In just six hours, the birthday party of the year will start, and my present doesn’t even know about it.
I sit at my computer and draw up an NDA with contract details for Jessenia to look over tonight if she agrees to play with us once we admit what we’ve done.
It’s a dangerous game, but the rewards could be so sweet.
I hope War’s instincts are right about her.
Chapter Four.
Jessenia
“Shit.” I glance at the clock for the tenth time since I got out of the shower.
I’ve been staring at my bed, which is covered in about every piece of clothing that I own, trying in vain to decide what to wear as time passes.
If you don’t get dressed and leave in the next ten minutes, you’re going to be late.
“Fuck it.” I drop my towel and grab the black slip dress.
It’s a little tight around my belly, and I lament the loss of my abs. The built-in bra is a lifesaver, and the slit that comes halfway up my thigh is sexy in an everyday flirty way. I slip my feet into flat sandals and rush through my basic makeup routine, leaving my longer-than-normal blonde hair to air-dry into natural waves.
I stand in front of my mirror, looking at myself with a critical eye.
Maybe I should grab a sweater?
My fingers trace my bare left shoulder in thought when my alarm rings. I snatch my clutch and keys before turning the shrill noise off. It’s half past seven, leaving me exactly thirty minutesto arrive, and I pray that traffic is light tonight; otherwise, I’ll be cutting it really close.
Relax, Jess!
