Page 86 of Stealth Mission

The receptionist gives me an eye.

Yes, I’m rubbing my arms.

I don’t know how the woman’s vast expanse of cleavage isn’t blue. Give me the heat any day. The dirt in my hands. The sweat on my brow.

I can’t wait to get back to the farm. Now that I’m feeling better today, I’ve got work to do. Plants to check on.

And the tractor. Ugh. It’s still broken.

The more I think about it, the more anxious I get. I glance at my watch—now more than half an hour has passed.

I go from rubbing my arms to tapping my foot.What is the hold up?

Sadly as I look at the receptionists curves—because who could miss them—my mind drifts to my pathetic sex life.

Duds. No one excited me until Evan. Besides, I had important things to do, like getting my education and getting back to help on the farm.

I startle when Mr. Reyes’s door swings inward. Yes.

Finally!

My breath holds and my heart wobbles with a mix of dread and excitement as male voices drift out.

I shift my bag and sling the strap over my arm as I take a steadying breath, but my nerves sky-rocket instead.

This is it.The moment of truth.

The voices grow louder.

But my mouth drops open when I realize who’s walking out.

Sylvester.

He doesn’t even see me. I shrink back with my stomach knotting.

What in the world is he doing with Mr. Reyes?

Especially during my appointment!

The assistant thanks Sylvester, then escorts him to the front door. Stunned, I stare as she laughs and talks to him like they are old friends.

God. That man. I can’t stand the sight of him.

When I snap myself out of my disbelief, I rise and walk slowly toward Mr. Reyes’s door. My legs feel like frozen wood and mushy noodles at the same time.

“Oh my!” I stumble back as the bank president rushes out toward me. He doesn’t even speak. Coattails flapping, he stares straight, storming across the bank.

Without slowing, he rushes through a nondescript brown door at the rear of the building.

Wait.What?

I’m still standing in the same spot, mad and confused, when the assistant returns.

“What about my appointment with Mr. Reyes?”

She shrugs as she rubs on some garish plum-colored lipstick. “Something’s come up. He needs to reschedule.”

No. No.No!