Page 43 of Mariposa
He stands and he’s clear as day, over six feet in height. He takes off his beret as he rounds the corner. He runs a hand through his blond hair and sits before me on his desk. His leg swings over the other as he studies me—a flicker of inquisition in his hazel eyes.
Uh…where’s this going?
“And what is that?” My breath hitches.
“I’m not your instructor anymore.” The tips of his fingers drum against the edge of his wooden desk.
“Correct.” The word rolls off my tongue and sounds more like a question.
“Meet me at The Drunken Shell tonight.”
My brows knit together before his meaning hits me. Booker talks with confidence and treats me with respect, but I hesitate briefly. There’s a man who gets under my skin, and a maelstrom of feelings occurs when I’m in his presence. But when he stopped by my room earlier, he made where we stand perfectly clear. This is not and can’t go anywhere.
Booker seems to know what he wants, and his smile always feels good to look at. He’s handsome, funny, and he doesn’t infuriate me.
Maybe I should do this.
No.
I know I want to do this.
I offer him a small smile. It actually sounds like a good time.
“The bar and grill in front of the beach?”
He nods. “Everyone is going there to celebrate a job well done. I’d like you to come too. You should be proud of yourself. You graduated at the top of the class.We’re all very proud of you. Beast won’t say it, but I can speak for him. I’m the only motherfucker that’s probably allowed to.” He laughs with a tilt of his head. “We know your father would be, too.” He pauses. “The Lion’s Daughter.”
“Thank you.” I tear my eyes away as my face dips. The beat of my heart grows heavy as the memories of him in his casket, wearing his uniform, come back to haunt me.
It’s all for you, Dad.
Booker snaps me out of my thoughts. “I like you, Isla.”
I meet his gaze, and when I do, his face reddens.
Is he blushing?
“Oh, is tonight like a…date?”
He smiles.
“I mean…no?” he says, fixing his hair, and places his beret back on his head. His dress shoes clack as he walks past me, opens the door, and says, “I’m going to dismiss myself.”
I peer over my shoulder as he freezes, tapping his fingers on the wall. Why does it sound like he’s asking me out? I part my lips to remind him of the rules when it comes to dating in the workplace with our different ranks, but he stops me.
“I’ll see you tonight, Isla.”
He closes the door.
17
VIOLET
As I shake the Lieutenant Colonel’s hand with that iconic green beret on top of my head, a wave of relief hits my soul. All my hard work has paid off. I’m the first woman in my family to enter military special operations.
Still shaking the Colonel’s hand, I glance at the crowd with a bright smile while people continue to clap. The stage is brightly spotlighted, in contrast to the dim lighting of the family section. I search for anyone from back home.
I look at every face, hoping that someone will show up for me. It diminishes as the seconds go by with each stranger’s face.
