Page 35
Story: Abandoned Oaths
“We just got off the phone with Rod. Everything is in place for tomorrow.”
Of course, he would immediately bring up work. It was nice to get to know Emilia past her rock-hard exterior, but she was already pulling her arms in and putting her walls back up.
“Good. We passed the security checks?” Derek asked.
“Yeah, Cruz and Marco will attend, and you and I will run surveillance.”
“You’re coming in with me?” Emilia asked me.
“I guess.” I glanced at Javier. “I thought you were.”
“We moved things around.”
That was a shitty explanation, but I knew from one look he didn’t want to get into the details right now.
“Good thing I have a suit ready.”
“A suit?” Emilia scoffed. “You’ll need a tux.”
Derek rolled his eyes. “He has one. He just doesn’t know the difference.”
I held up a finger. “Not knowing and not caring are two very different things.”
Emilia cracked a smile. “You’re not going as my date, though, right?”
“No, they won’t have any affiliation with you.” Javier seemed a bit too happy about that.
He was keeping something from us. I wanted to force it out of him, but I’d have to wait.
“Is it odd for me to show up alone?” she asked.
“Don’t you usually?” Derek skimmed his arms over the surface of the water.
“Well, yes, but I find my target pretty quickly, get the job done, and leave. I don’t wander around, hoping to get noticed.”
That was fair. Too bad none of us had any experience in this realm.
“You’re new to the area. You haven’t made friends yet, but you’re passionate about children’s organizations. You wanted to show your support.” Marco glided through the water toward us. “It shows you’re confident, independent, and genuine. The problem won’t be getting noticed. I think it will be giving our mark a chance to meet you.”
She cringed. “I don’t want to fight off men all night.”
“We all have our burden to bear.” He winked before falling back into the water, splashing all of us.
CHAPTER 9
Emilia
When was the last time I felt nervous before a job? I twisted a new strand of hair around the curling iron and closed my eyes.
Seven, maybe eight years ago? I’d set my routine since then. Dress up, smile, flirt, play coy, get them alone, and strike.
The first four steps were the same, but instead of only having to charm my target to walk away with me, I had to entice him enough to seek me out and be just seductive enough to leave him wanting more.
I knew nothing about that kind of seduction. Dating wasn’t my thing. I’d never had a boyfriend. Hookups that went through until the following morning were rare.
A relationship? That was as foreign as freedom.
How did other women do this? What if he wasn’t attracted to me? What if I simply wasn’t his type?
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