Page 10 of Intersect
“So just to be clear, you’re saying that when you are killed, you want me to engage in maybe a year of martial arts and weapons training, and then go kill a USsenator?”
“Okay,” says Caroline, clapping her hands to get our attention. “Enough irrelevant chitchat. Trevor is likely to die on one of these dates and neither of us plan to lift a finger because it’s his fault for choosing criminals.” She looks at the outfits she’s pulled out and hands me a jumpsuit. “Try this first. It’sperfect.”
I gnaw on my lip, taking it in. It’s sweet that she wants to help but I’m a pretty conservative girl, nude sunbathing aside. And this is not a conservative jumpsuit. The whole back is bare, and I’m not sure it wouldn’t give a complete view of my breasts in profile either. “It looks, um,revealing. It’s basically anapron.”
Her eyes roll. “Maybe the problem isn’thimafter all, Virgin Mary. Go try iton.”
I stick my tongue out at her but take the jumpsuit, my hand brushing over the heavy, luxurious fabric almost against my will. It looks expensive. It even feels expensive. I go into the bathroom and slip it on. It shows as much skin as I thought. And yet, as always, I feel glamorous in a way I never do when I dressmyself.
“Stop overthinking it and come out here!” Carolineshouts.
Warily I emerge. “It shows too much side boob. And I won’t be able to wear a bra withit.”
“Isn’t that thepoint?” asksTrevor.
“I want him towantto see my boobs,” I argue. “I’m not trying to expose myself to him against hiswill.”
“We’ll use double-sided tape on the outside to make sure there’s no nipple reveal, but let’s let him have a tiny hint of side boob,” says Caroline. “Men go nuts for that. It reminds them of being horny teenagers desperate to see a hint ofcleavage.”
Once I’m dressed, the two of them take over my hair and makeup, and when it’s all done, they’ve given me red lips and whatappearsto be naturally glowing, bronzed skin. “If he can resist you looking like that,” says Trevor, “then I reallyamgoing to take a shot athim.”
* * *
I’m still sounnerved by Jeff’s visit that I make up an excuse to meet Nick out rather than having him pick me up. I Uber to the address he gave me, experiencing a moment of shock when I discover it’s a hotel before someone points toward the bar on its roof. I take the elevator up way too many floors and emerge to a panoramic view of D.C., along with an even better view—Nick standing in a ray of sunlight, looking slightly too godlike to be real. He’s in a white button-down and jeans, a head taller than any other guy here, not noticing that half the wait staff is looking him up and down like something they plan to divide and consume in itsentirety.
He glances in my direction as I begin to walk toward him, and when I see that look in his eyes—surprise, followed quickly by joy and something far more carnal—I forget all my earlier angst. This is Nick. We’ve somehow come together no matter how many times we were separated. He’s not going to let a little thing like excessive fertility get in ourway.
“Hi,” I say, sounding a little breathless. I go on my toes to kiss his cheek, and he pulls me close, wrapping his entire arm around my back, his mouth to myear.
“You’re killing me,” he groans. “You know that,right?”
I gaze up at him. “Is that a good thing orbad?”
His gaze flickers over the low V of my top, catches there for a moment, and he flinches. “Both,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist as we walk toward the hostess stand. “I got us one of the privateareas.”
I have no idea what he’s talking about but at the moment I’m pretty content just to be plastered to his side. He speaks to the hostess and she leads us through a door at the north side of the bar, and onto a terrace with a vine-covered trellis on either side and an amazing, unimpeded view of D.C. from thefront.
She takes our orders and points to a button on the table. “If you need anything else, just hit this,” she tells us, and then she leaves, shutting the door behindher.
My eyebrows go nearly to my hairline. “Whatisthis?”
He gives me a sheepish smile, complete with dimple. I want to eat him alive because of that smile alone. “It’s just one of those bullshit VIP things so we don’t have to fight for space out there.” His hand wraps around my hip and he pulls me closer. “Which enables me to do this.” He leans down, grazing my lips with his, holding them there a moment. My eyes flutter closed. I don’t want him to stop.Please, please don’tstop.
His hand releases my waist and his fingers twine with mine. “Let’ssit.”
Restraining a sigh, I follow him to the couch, curling up in one corner of the loveseat while he sits beside me. Off to the west I see the Pentagon and feel something sink inside my chest, the way it always does. 9/11 was one of those days, one of those days I knew what would happen before it did. When I saw footage of the first plane hitting, Iknew. I knew more planes would hit. It was on the tip of my tongue to say it aloud, but I took one look at my mother and closed my mouth. I was all too familiar with the way she would look at me for weeks if I was proven correct…as if she was scared of me. And while no one would have listened to the premonitions of a ten-year-old, the fact that I stayed silent has always made me feel complicitsomehow.
“Everything okay?” heasks.
I’m tempted to tell him the story, but that old fear creeps into my throat. I never want him to look at me the way my mother did. I smile. “Ofcourse.”
He rubs the back of his neck, a gesture I find unbelievably hot for some unknown reason. “Why did you insist on meeting me here instead of letting me pick you up?” heasks.
I hold my breath for a moment, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. I can’t claim I didn’t want him to go out of his way…he only lives a few blocks from Caroline. My breath releases. I don’t want to lie. “I went to get a bagel this morning. Jeff was waiting in the lobby this morning when I got in. I was worried he’d comeback.”
His eyes widen. “And you really thought the solution was to not have me there if ithappened?”
The waitress taps on the door at that moment and delivers our drinks. I wait until she’s gone before I answer. “I don’t want you to get into trouble for this. Jeff’s…hurt. And angry. And he’s not being rational. He’s saying things on my voicemail I never imagined he was capable of saying. There’s not a doubt in my mind he would try to create problems for you if he had a shred ofproof.”