Revenge #4 by Knight JJ

Author:Knight, JJ [Knight, JJ]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2014-03-19T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

Sure, I like convertibles.

My new assignment involves driving one. It doesn’t sound too bad.

Stephanie waves her manicured hands daintily and explains my new Eye Candy assignment.

“Any questions?” she asks at the end.

I’m quiet for a moment. I’ve been bracing myself for the worst. I thought she’d ask me to seduce this new guy. But the job sounds simple. Easy.

Too easy.

I must be missing something.

“You want me to take this guy shopping for hats?” I ask.

She shrugs. “Or sunglasses. Your choice.”

I turn my head and give her some serious side-eye. I don’t trust her.

“Why me?” I ask.

Stephanie gets up from her chair and walks around her desk to my side. She perches on the visitor chair next to mine and gazes into my eyes.

“Because you have an amazing personal style,” she says, her voice breathy. She reaches out to straighten the collar of my plain gray jacket. Her perfume surrounds me in a cloudy embrace. She breathes, “I love the detailing on this jacket. You really have an eye for details.”

I squirm in my seat. “This old thing?”

Stephanie abruptly gets up again and circles back around to the other side of the desk.

“That jacket is terrible,” she says coldly.

I straighten up in my chair. I’m both shocked and impressed by how she manipulated me.

“Damn, you’re good,” I say. “I believed you.”

“You’ll have to stop by the boutique for something new before you go on assignment. But remember how good you felt when I flattered you. That’s how you need to make Bryce feel. Shopping for hats is just the excuse. He has a big photo shoot tomorrow. We don’t want to see him with big bags under his eyes from staying up all night crying about how misunderstood he is, or whatever the neurotic little pukebag does.”

“Pukebag?”

She flicks her hand like she’s annoyed with everything. “Fuck my life. Just do the job. Do it well and I’ll put in a good word for your boy, Dylan.”

She glances at the door, letting me know I’m dismissed.

“Do you think Dylan is a pukebag?” I ask.

She uses a fancy gold fountain pen to write notes on a sheet of pink stationery. “Dylan? I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed for eating crackers.”

She makes a purring sound, and a flare of jealousy shoots off inside me. I don’t want to share Dylan with the whole world. His music, yes, but not him.

Stephanie hands me the address where I’ll be meeting my new assignment. She also hands me the keys for a company vehicle to drive to the location.

I don’t have much time, so I rush off.

An hour later, I’m driving a sweet convertible down Rodeo Drive. I’m wearing a tight leather skirt and a designer blouse that’s mostly see-through, with a bustier that shapes me like a corset.

If my Nan could see me now, she wouldn’t even disapprove. Because she wouldn’t recognize me.

I park the car, and a second later another convertible careens into the spot in front of me. A girl jumps out and covers her face with a scarf.

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