Page 51 of Awaken the Dragon
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Ziva asked.
She walked right past Shola and stopped behind her. When Shola turned, it was to see Ziva staring her up and down.
“What?”
“Yeah. I thought so. But no, it’s not going to work. Look, no worries. I got this.” Ziva looked up at her and smiled. “Come on.”
Shola closed the door and followed Ziva farther into the room. She watched the woman drop a black garment bag on the bed and slip a duffel bag from her shoulder.
“Okay, so we’re going to Twilight. That’s the club your ex—he is your ex now, right? I mean, since you’re going to kill him, I would presume the right thing to call him is your ex.” Ziva moved while she talked, pulling down the zipper on the garment bag and taking clothes out.
“I guess you could call him that.” Shola had no clue what was going on, but it seemed comfortable. Like something she should maybe be used to, but definitely was not.
Ziva nodded and long silver earrings dangled at her ears.
“So, when Theo says ‘on the low,’ that means we try to be as inconspicuous as possible. We walk into the club like regular patrons and mingle,” Ziva continued.
She walked to Shola holding hangers with outfits on them in both hands. One held pants with silver glitter or sparkles or something that Shola definitely didn’t like. A blouse was also on that hanger, turquoise with cutout shoulders and full sleeves. She liked the color. On the other hanger were jeans with holes in them and a white sweater that Shola was certain would show more than a little midriff.
“Hmmm, color or casual?” Ziva said, holding one and then the other outfit up to Shola’s body.
“I’m already dressed,” Shola stated and knew immediately she’d said the wrong thing.
Ziva’s forehead wrinkled, her lips twisting. “Um...no,” she said with a definite nod. “You’re not.”
Shola looked down at the loose-fitting beige linen pants she wore and the matching top. Her flat brown leather shoes were smart and cute with the gold buckle at the top. Overall she’d selected an outfit that looked nice and would accommodate any type of fighting should the need arise.
“When a woman walks into a club, or any place for that matter, she should make a statement,” Ziva said. “Right now you’re screaming ‘boring,’ ‘no fun,’ ‘don’t talk to me because I won’t care what you’re saying.’”
Shola looked down at her clothes again. “That is not what I thought it said.”
Ziva touched her shoulder. “It’s fine. You don’t strike me as the type to pay attention to fashion. But never fear, I’m here to help. So I think color is the key.” She tossed the jeans and sweater on the bed.
Shola waited a second before shaking her head. “No. I’ll change, but not into this,” she said, pointing at the sparkly pants.
She moved past Ziva and removed the jeans from the hanger. Then she turned back to Ziva and slipped the turquoise blouse off the other hanger.
“This will work,” she said and smiled at Ziva before disappearing into the bathroom.
“You know, I can take you shopping,” Ziva yelled through the bathroom door. “There’s not much else to do here in Burgess. I mean, if you’re planning on staying after we finish. You need some color in your wardrobe and to stop wearing all those baggy clothes. But your hair is always on point; not everyone can pull off the natural look well. I like the short, sassy and quick styles myself.”
Shola was amused by Ziva’s conversation. There was minimal talk about the fact that they were heading out to kill someone and most probably anyone who got in the way of them doing that. In addition, she was talking like they were friends. Girlfriends, which was something Shola had never experienced before. The kids in school had never forgotten her fanciful tale of Oya giving her special gifts, so by the time they were older, Shola had become accustomed to being alone.
“Ready,” Shola said when she stepped out of the bathroom.
The clothes fit perfectly. Where she originally thought the torn jeans were confusing and her feet kept slipping through the open slots as she tried to put them on, they looked really good when she stood in front of the mirror and stared at herself. Ziva came up behind her.
“This shirt is so cute. It looks better on you though. Jewel tones are definitely your color. But let’s take this out of your hair.” Ziva pulled the band that was holding Shola’s hair back from her face before Shola could stop her.
“I thought you said my hair was always on point.”
Ziva tossed the band on the dresser. “I meant it’s always moisturized and neat. But you could use a little variety in your styles.”
Shola watched while Ziva’s hands moved over her hair. She basically plucked it out with her fingers, fluffing in some places and patting down in others. She moved away and dug into the duffel bag on the bed and came back seconds later with a silver barrette that she used to push the hair back over Shola’s left ear and hold it in place.
“Cute,” Ziva said. “And sexy.”
“I’ll settle for successful,” Shola replied and then turned to Ziva. “But thanks for your help. You did not have to do this, but I appreciate it anyway.”
