Page 15 of Spades

But I won’t do it.

I won’t fucking do it.

The seedy underbelly that is the Chicago political sphere is not one where I imagine myself.

But I enjoy Aces. It’s a great club.

And I can’t wait for my first date with Alissa.

5

ALISSA

Another boring dayat the hospital. Big shocker there.

Of course, boring is a good thing for the patients in my ward. None of them are dying, none of them are in intensive care.

The clock is ticking slowly. I know it’s awful, but I wish somethingwouldhappen. Something dramatic to distract me from this boring day. I don’t want anyone to die, but maybe someone could flatline for just a second, make me rush into their room to help revive them.

Medical shows should have better prepared me for the agonizing tedium that entails ninety percent of this job.

The day is going slower than usual for another reason. I have something to look forward to.

My heart races when I think about my date with Maddox tonight.

I brought a change of clothes with me to the hospital. They’re in a garment bag hanging in my locker in the nurse’s break room. I wasn’t exactly sure what I should wear to a speakeasy. When Maddox first described the place we’re going tonight, my first thought was a 1920’s jazz club, complete with feather-covered flappers. I don’t have any dresses that match that vibe, but I finally decided on a light-blue dress that I typically reserve for all my first dates. It brings out the color of my eyes, accentuates my blond hair, and shows just enough skin to keep a man’s attention.

Finally, my shift ends. I walk over to where Dinah is sitting, give her a squeeze on the shoulder. “Bye, Di. I’ll see you later.”

She grins at me. “Have fun on your date, babe.”

I bite my lip. “I will. He seems like an interesting guy.”

I told Dinah all about my little encounter with Maddox last night. She was shocked that I took a different route home—I’m wed to routine—but thought the story of how we met was cute. A story we could tell our grandkids one day, she said.

I’m not counting on grandkids quite yet. Maddox could end up like every other man I’ve dated since moving to Chicago. Creepy, sex-starved, or—perhaps the gravest offense of all—just plain boring.

Maddox doesn’t seem to be creepy. Certainly not boring. As for sex-starved? Hell, I was disappointed I didn’t get a kiss last night.

But I barely know the man. He could show his true colors tonight.

I’m just glad we’re meeting in a public place. I’ll be able to discreetly excuse myself if things go south.

I go into the break room and grab the dress out of my locker. I head into the women’s restroom and put it on.

I look good. Light blue has always been my color. It pops perfectly over my ivory skin and light hair. Truth be told, I really love what it does for my boobs. I’m a B-cup, but this dress pushes them up to a C-level appearance. Two slim straps hold the dress over my shoulders, showing off my arms, which I’m pretty proud of. I try to hit the gym twice a week to keep them toned. I usually only make it once a week during the winter, but so far my arms still look good.

I put on some stockings—it is winter, after all—and a pair of glossy black pumps to bring the look together. Sexy, but not slutty. The perfect balance for my first outing with the mysterious Maddox.

My hair was in a ponytail during my shift. I take my scrunchie out and let my hair flow down my bare shoulders. I grab a brush out of my locker and spend a few minutes working at it until it’s soft, silky, and shiny.

I can’t lie. I look pretty damned good.

I check my phone. It’s almost six. Maddox told me to meet him at the corner of Randolph and State. That’s maybe a ten-minute walk from where I am.

I grab my coat and scarf and head outside. The Chicago wind sneaks up my coat and hits every exposed piece of flesh that the dress fails to cover, but I grit my teeth against it. We’ll be someplace warm soon.

Actually, I don’t need any heat. Seeing Maddox sends a rush of blood through my entire body, warming me from head to toe.

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