Page 31 of The Dark Side

It's not like I'm dressing to impress anyway.

Jolie had standards, and Adrik didn't fit those guidelines despite how gorgeous he was and how he looked at her with promises of a long night of porn-rated lovemaking.

Love making, she belittled herself for the romantic in her.That's not what he does.

Jolie repositioned herself for the fifth time. "How much longer?" she asked the driver. It had taken her some time to get into the car, but they all insisted they drive her. With the pen in her purse and a silly pocketknife, she felt that there was some defense against him if something were to go wrong.

These guards tried to take her cell phone, but she refused that request. There was no way in hell she would journey intohellwithout a phone.

She texted her mom. 'The driver is about five foot ten. Russian. With a beard. A fat nose.' She was relaying everything that was happening, and it helped ease her fear. But she had still gotten in the car.

Why? Why am I risking my life?

Her mother texted back. 'Pull out a piece of hair and put it under one of the seats.'

Jolie giggled at the absurdity. But found herself rubbing her hands through her hair.

Beneath the fear, there lay the excitement she was trying to suppress. The wonderment of what's gonna happen next. And the very plain fact that she'll be able to talk to Adrik again, because despite how much she didn't want to, she really,reallyenjoyed listening to him talk. His accent was like butter on a cinnamon roll. It's not everyone's taste, but she couldn't get enough of it.

The car stopped, and the driver got out. Jolie sat there and took a deep breath, wincing, blowing out regretfully.

You're fine. You're going to do something for your country. They'll write about you in history books. You'll write an autobiography for your kids that will be worth reading.

The door opened.

If you ever have kids, and don't die a horrible and utterly preventable death.

Jolie got out and deflated at the sign: TGI Fridays. She looked at the driver and watched him lead her to the front door, where he held it open for her. She was still unsure even as she peeked her head inside like it would be radically transformed into expensive dining.

Adrik sat at a barstool and smiled wide, waving her in.

She approached cautiously, and he got up to greet her, moving in to kiss her cheek. "Sit. Sit. What would you like to drink?" He guided her to a booth, and Jolie had to think about how she would sit without pain showing on her face. And then a great excuse came to her lips as she sat, taking huge breaths. He watched her, and she quickly answered his unasked question. "The gym. I think I hurt my ribs somehow."

"You need a proper spot."

When the waitress popped up, Jolie asked for a Coke.

Adrik chided, sitting across from her. "Come on. You are out, and you don't need to drive. Have a drink with me."

"No, I'm good." Aside from her not liking any liquor, mixing it with painkillers didn't sound like a good idea.

He conceded, ordering a beer. "I'm happy you came."

"Me too. I love TGI Fridays." She propped her purse beside her, sticking her hand in to flick the pen on. It kick-started the fear in her heart. She was grateful when the server brought her drink. She took a long gulp of it and then ended up burping. She covered her mouth in embarrassment and quickly sipped her soda to stuff it down.

Adrik pointed to her shirt. "I knowFriends. Chandler's my favorite."

"Phoebe's mine."

"I know why you like her."

"Oh?"

"She's odd. Like you."

"Excuse me, I'm not odd."

"It is good to be odd."