Page 39 of Fighting With Light

“Soo, that means I’m—”

“You meanwe,” she says, interrupting me.

“That meanswehave to find everything, down to going to Colombia and taking pictures of what we uncover.”

“Well shit,” she mutters.

I sigh and lean back into my chair running my hand through my half-dry hair.

“Yeah.” I stare at the screen and nothing has changed, no one has come in or out. I assume it’s busy only when they have shipments come through which is likely a scheduled event. “I’m starting to think that your idea just might work.”

She grins and lifts her chin.

“Don’t get too excited, this is a few hours. We have to wait for two more days for the shipment to get there according to their invoices that I found. But it could be random so we have to be ready. My main concern is that when the special shipment arrives, security will bump up,” I warn her.

“I’m sure we’ll find out,” she says, still looking at the screen.

I watch her watch the video footage and nervousness floods my stomach. My muscles feel tight like I worked out without warming up and I realize…it’s because Aelia is with me and I really don’t want her to get hurt.

***

After I showered, styled my hair with a little gel, put on a button-up shirt, and tucked it into a pair of slacks. My uniform is shorts and t-shirts, but tonight I want to impress Aelia, I don’t ask myself why. I wait for her in my office while checking the video feed. It’s recording that way when we’re gone I can come back and play it all, but as of now, it’s quiet. It almost feels too quiet, though I’m not sure if that’s paranoia or the reality of the situation.

I might see if I can hack into some other cameras in the surrounding area because it is possible they have security that’s a lot less obvious. If that’s the case, I’m not sure the ninja stuff will work, but I’m not positive playing a part will either. Everything we do will be caught on camera and it could rat Aelia out to her father and that hasbad ideawritten all over it. For now, I’ll keep recording and see what else I can find in the surrounding area, hopefully, nothing.

Heels click on the tile floor drawing my attention from my screen to her feet buckled into red-bottomed sandals. I trail my eyes up her legs to a silky, black dress where a small slit stops above one of her knees. The fabric drapes over her figure like a gentle wave then it nips in at her waist in a fitted bodice that pushes her modest chest up in a small V with thin straps over her shoulders. My eyes finally reach her face with smokey eyes and red lips.

“What do you think? Am I overdressed?” she asks with a smirk.

I stand in my suede loafers and dramatically fall to my knees. She giggles and it’s like that scene out ofDirty Dancing. It’s a good movie. Mom made me watch it. I crawl to her on all fours and she giggles, swiveling her hips.

“Come here, lover boy,” she says like Sylvia. And I don’t know why I do it, but she makes me do crazy things. I sit up on my knees, grip her hips and kiss her silk-covered stomach. She chucks my chin. “One two cha-cha-cha, eyes up here, lover boy,” she says saucily.

Slowly, I get to my feet and she pushes my chest with two fingers and then takes two steps back. I grab her hand and put my other on her waist, and we cha-cha a little. Giggles erupts out of her beautiful red lips and I grin down at her.

“Baby, oh baby,” I sing to her in a terrible voice.

She tilts her head back and laughs while she dances with me. I spin her out and then back into my arms, taking a step to lean her back over my thigh. She gasps as I set her back on her feet, with her back to my front we cha-cha for a few more beats until I spin her to face me, pulling us closer. I grab behind her knee, lifting it to my hip and feel something attached to her thigh as I lay her back, circling her body before righting her again. “What is that?” I ask, holding her still and rubbing my hand against her thigh.

“A knife.”

I grin and wiggle my eyebrows.

“What? You don’t live this long being a mobster’s daughter without picking up a few things.”

“Always ready.”

She smiles tightly and I place her other foot to the floor, still holding my hand at her lower back.

“Ready for dinner?” I ask her.

“Are you sure we need to eat?” she asks, slightly breathless.

I chuckle, easing her towards the door.

“I don’t know about you, but I’mstarvingand we need to find a great food truck to take you and your beautiful dress to.”

She looks at me over her shoulder as she walks down the hallway. “You’re not really going to take me to a food truck, are you?” she asks.