Page 91 of GAF Factor

“Geez, alright,” he sighed, straightening his suit. “Are you sure this looks right on me?”

“Why?”

He shifted uncomfortably, looking at himself in the mirror. “I don’t know. The one Linda got me was so much better.”

I rolled my eyes, turning away from him. One nice suit and suddenly, he was a savant. “The suit is fine. We’re going to a nightclub, not a fashion show.”

“Still. I want to look the part.” He tugged on the lapels and turned to me. “So, what’s my character?”

“Your what?”

“You know, who am I playing?”

“You’re playing you.”

“Right, but am I playing me playing someone else?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, praying that someone would take him out. I wasn’t sure I could survive the night with him. “You’re just you, IRIS. You’re here to have a good time. That’s it. Watch your back and find the target.”

He sighed, turning back to the mirror. “No creativity. You know, that’s not how Zoe would play it in her movies.”

“Well, this isn’t a fucking movie.”

“Clearly,” he scoffed.

I’d had enough of his fucking attitude. I grabbed him by the lapels and spun him around, shoving him up against the wall. “Would you fucking cool the attitude? Enough is enough. We’re here to do a job. That’s it.”

“Then you might want to lay off the suit. You’re gonna wrinkle it. This may not be the nicest fabric, but I still have a part to play. Hands off, man!”

I jerked him back against the wall and stepped away, trying to rein in my temper. Christ, I was gonna kill this fucker before the night was over. I pulled a pack of smokes from my pocket and took out a cigarette, but as I stared at it, I remembered Isla’s reaction to it—how disgusted she was by it. I slid the cigarette back into the pack and tucked them away. I could go a little longer between smokes.

“IKE!” Isla called from the bedroom. “Are you sure about this?”

“Why?”

“Um…it’s kinda tight.”

“Come out and let me see.”

The door opened and out popped one long, sensuous leg. She wasn’t trying to look sexy as she slowly put one heel in front of the other. She just couldn’t walk in the damn things. That and the dress was so damn tight that if she walked any faster, it might rip in two.

“This is not right,” she muttered. “I look like a hooker.”

My lips twitched in amusement. “Why would you say that?”

“The dress barely covers my ass!”

“I think you look sexy.”

“I think everyone will know the color of my underwear within five minutes of being in the club!”

“That’s easy. It’s black.”

She gaped at me. “How did you— I haven’t even bent over!”

I grinned at the stunned expression on her face. “Black is your preference. Did you think I wouldn’t know that?”

“Yeah, I didn’t need to know that,” IRIS muttered. “Where’s Jane?”

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