Page 48 of S.O.S. Perk

Before she got any closer, Perk mumbled to Sloane. “Catrina Ayers. World History.”

Sloane, on the other end, snickered loudly, then he heard her keyboard clacking vociferously. What the hell was she doing?Well, damn. She must be running a quick background check.

Perk wondered what she would find.

The blonde didn’t look discouraged that Perk had said his girlfriend was on the line. Instead, she sidled up until she was nearly hip to hip with Perk, also leaning back against his car while batting her baby-blues up at him.

“Tell her she’s got competition.” Catrina nudged his rib cage with shoulder.

Perk shook his head. “Uh, I don’t think—"

“Let me talk to that little bitch,” Sloane cut in, a growl in her words. Clearly, she’d heard Catrina’s declaration.

“I don’t think that’s wise, Sloane,” Perk warned, grimacing.

“Oh, it’s wise alright. Because if I have to come down there to discourage that man-stealer, it’ll be a lot worse than me reading her the riot act over the phone.”

“Fine,” Perk sighed, then addressed Catrina. “My girlfriend Sloane wants to talk to you.”

Catrina arrogantly held out her hand and wiggled her fingers at his device. He could tell she was used to getting what she wanted, and wondered how this was going to go.

His money was on Sloane.

“It’s your funeral,” he told the girl, and proffered his phone.

“Yeah?” Catrina answered cockily.

Time ticked by, but Catrina didn’t have much to say after that one, initial snobbish greeting.

Perk watched the girl’s face go from bright and confident to draining of color, and becoming…pinched.

Catrina’s wing-girl, who’d been snapping her gum pompously before, suddenly looked confused; her brows draw together in question.

“Uh, huh. Yes. I understand,” Catrina eventually whispered into the phone.

She’d already moved several inches away from Perk, her expression spooked. “No. No. I’m good. I promise.”

She handed the device back to Perk, not meeting his eyes, then took her girlfriend’s arm and swiftly towed her away without a backward glance.

Perk chuckle-snorted once the pair were out of sight. “What the hell did you say to her?” he asked Sloane amusedly.

“Nothing that can be repeated,” Sloane responded smugly. “But suffice to say, the little tramp won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“Uh, thank you?” Perk clucked. “I think.”

“What do you mean, you think?” she bit out in response.

Perk could tell Sloane had her back up at his casually spoken words, but before he could come up with the right ones to reassure her that he was really okay with her intervention, she snapped at him again.

“You didn’t want me to warn her off?”

“No. No. I did,” Perk clarified before her short fuse burned long enough to detonate any bombs. “But remember, I’m trying to blend in and make friends here, so I’m attempting to play nice with everyone. Whatever you said, it won’t backfire on me, will it?”

“Nope,” Sloane answered assuredly. “This was all about little miss Catrina, and she won’t be repeating any of it. I promise.”

“Okay.” Perk trusted Sloane. She wouldn’t compromise an op simply because of jealousy. “So back to our day tomorrow,” he segued.

“Nice diversion, Perk, but I’ll take it. You already gave me the address. So, what time do you want to meet?”

---