“Can’t say that I… dance much.”
Bella held up a hand. “Those of us with men aren’t bringing them. It’s just gonna be a chill girl’s night. We all dance in a sloppy mash up. You’ll love it, I promise.”
Shay furrowed her brow. “I don’t know.”
“Come on. Dancing is a lot like boxing, just with less punching.” Bella smiled. “Think of it as an extra workout if that gets you there.”
“The punching’s the fun part.” Shay grinned as she slipped off the gloves and unwound the cotton around her hands.
Bella laughed. “Will you still come? Just give it a chance. If you don’t like it, I’ll never ask again.”
Shay stared at the other woman, pursing her lips while considering her options. Bella had managed to surprise her again.
Hanging out with her made perfect sense and would give her another chance to practice her cover story. The last time had too many hiccups. Hell, just going out was taking as much preparation as the Mexico job.
Time to stop being such a chickenshit about the regular life crap. You said you wanted your own crowd to run around town with. Suck it up and do something normal-ish.
“Okay, Bella. I’m in.”
Chapter Fifteen
Shay had made her next stop Warehouse Two, pizza in hand to fill in Peyton who was calmer than she had expected and was busy looking for the next job.
He turned the tables on her and told her, “Leave the pizza. I’ll eat it while I work.”
She smiled in admiration even as he bent down from where he was standing to look at the multiple screens he had set up in the office.
“Hey, are those new?” Shay looked at the equipment, turning around in the room.
“Yeah, another alias ordered it all and paid with a new credit card. Don’t worry, none of it can be traced back to this location and I figured you would pay it off before the month was out.” He looked back at her as he opened the box and smiled as the warm smell of pizza wafted up to him. “All necessary, trust me.”
Shit, I actually do. “You really don’t want to know more about what happened in Mexico?”
Peyton talked through a mouthful of pizza, grease dribbling down his chin. “You found the gold, killed off a few more cartel members. That was a bonus favor to society. Got the whole load back to the states and delivered it safe and sound to our client who paid us handsomely. I’m using the royal us, of course.”
“Of course.” Shay smiled and looked at her only office help. Okay, crazy clothes but still… there’s some street smarts in there somewhere. I can work with this.
“What are you still doing here? Didn’t you say you had somewhere else to be?”
Shay let out a laugh and threw up her hands. “Okay then… I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy your pizza.”
Shay stood back, moving in front of the mirror in her bedroom as she pulled a simple black dress from her closet. This will have to do.
Burning down her house and faking her own death took a large bite out of her wardrobe. All that was left was what fit in a compact go bag. There wasn’t much left to choose from for a girl’s night at a club.
“Need to go on a shopping spree soon,” she muttered to herself. “Could even ask Bella to come along. Make a day of it.” She held the dress up in front of her with one hand, holding her hair up with the other.
Shay was far too practical to mourn the loss of a wardrobe, even if every stitch was high end. Didn’t hurt that having a versatile, good quality wardrobe made it that much easier in her old line of work.
Getting close to a target was often necessary, and a good killer could infiltrate any sort of environment with the proper clothes, especially when a killer body like hers met up with the right clothes.
Wonder if I can write those clothes off on my taxes.
Shay pulled out her only other choice. A low-cut red strapless number. She held both up in front of her body.
“Hmmm… Going with the black. Save the red for when there’s a man involved.” She hung the red dress back up and slipped into the black number, reaching back to pull up the wide zipper.
Her shoe collection had suffered the same fate as the rest of her clothes, but she had taken that more personally and didn’t waste any time when she hit Los Angeles. There were already a few selections of heels from shops in Beverly Hills that neatly lined up alongside her dozen pairs of workout shoes.
“These will do.” She pulled out a pale violet pair of Tamara Mellon suede pumps with an ankle strap and slipped them on, turning in the mirror to get a better look.
She glanced over at the bedside clock.
“Loose curls will have to do.” She ran her fingers through her hair and leaned closer to the mirror as she picked up a lipstick, checking the color before she pressed it against her lips.
Her phone buzzed from the bed, and she hurried, setting the dress and shoes next to it.
Peyton had texted her.
I’ve got a line on a good job that I think will be right up your alley.
Shay picked up the phone to text back.
I’m in the middle of some shit tonight. Is the job time sensitive?
Right, your night with normies. Nope, it can wait. This one’s been sitting around for a while. A long while.
I’ll stop by tomorrow, and we’ll chat.
Okay. See you then. Pack a toothbrush, just in case.
Peyton ended the text message with a flamingo emoji. Even his emojis had a flashback yuppy flare.
Alright, then. I have a girl’s night
