Page 15 of The True Garza
My inner claws threaten to come out. But why? This man isn’t mine. He’s nothing to me. So what’s it matter who he sleeps with?
“Hey, Kasey.” He glances around. “Is Jules in her office?”
“Yes, she just got back from lunch. Do you want me to—”
“Nah, it’s fine.” He looks down at me, my reflection in his aviators. “Be right back. I’m gonna—”
“Nope,” I curtail. “I’m coming with you. I want to hear everything that’s said.Withyou, notforyou, remember?”
“You’re gonna be a pain in my ass, aren’t you?”
My smile is unapologetic. “Something tells me you wouldlovethat.”
With a quiet snort, he gestures with two fingers for me to follow along. We navigate through the space, passing stations of hairstylists, nail technicians, a set of frosted glass doors that reads “Spa and Healing,” then another set that reads “Boutique,” before he finally treks down a short hall and knocks on a hot-pink door.
“Come in.”
He opens it and pokes his head in. “You decent?”
“I’m at work, True. What do you think I’m doing in here?” returns a soft, whispery voice.
He shrugs and opens the door wider. “You might not wanna walk in on me in my office, then.”
I enter behind him in time to see her make a weird face at him. “Why? Whatdoyou do in your office?”
He grins at her. “Oh, you don’t wanna know.”
Jules is innocently beautiful. Small nose, rosy cheeks, bobbed black hair, and soft doe eyes.
When her attention skips to me, I jerk my chin at her. “Hey.”
“Hi…um…” she trails off on a frown and looks to True for explanation.
True takes off his glasses and hooks them on the neck of his tee. “Yeah, this is Agent Bridge. We’ve got an assignment and need you to do that thing you do to get her looking younger and her confidence on the up and up. I wantyoupersonally to work with her, though. No one else.”
Jules blinks at him. “And you didn’t think to make anappointmentor give me some advance notice?”
“It wasn’t planned, and this is time-sensitive, so chop-chop.”
Jules makes a mean noise in her throat as she grabs a pair of scissors from a stationery holder on her desk and lunges at him. “Didn’t I tell you I’d stab you in the eyeball if you ever came in here bossing me around again?”
True dodges her and darts out the door, laughing. “Love you, too, Jules.”
A few seconds later, my phone pings.
Unknown:Off to a meeting. Jules will sort you out. Call me if the old metal fails and you need a ride.
Me:True?
Unknown:Yeah. Save my number.
Pocketing my phone, I bring my attention back to Jules.
Her eyes suddenly widen as she looks guiltily at the scissors in her hand. On a nervous laugh, she says, “I wouldn’t havereallystabbed him. He’s just so aggravating sometimes.”
A scoff leaves me. “I wouldn’t have cared. So, what’s your solution”—I gesture to my face—“to getting rid of these bags under my eyes and making me look ten years younger?”
“Is this yourreal hair color?” Jules asks me half an hour later, after sitting me down in front of a mirror.
