Mindy steps in. So far, every time I’ve met her, she’s been wearing fun colors and the most interesting outfits. I wish I could do that. My idea of adding color is red lipstick.
“Ottilie is outside. She’ll be in soon.” Mindy takes off her coat. “Today’s meeting couldn’t have been more convenient. Maddox and Jacko had to drive out here today for a funeral.”
A funeral. Is it for Rogue’s nephew? Probably, there can’t be that many funerals on the same day in a small town.
“What happened to your face?” Mindy stops talking to stare at me.
Is it really that bad?
“Who,” Winnie corrects.
“Oh really. Well, I’m glad Maddox shaves. I wouldn’t want the entire world to know when we were kissing.”
It’s that bad.
“So, who were you kissing?”
These women are such gossips, and I’m right here.
“A biker.” Cordelia grins at me like she wasn’t flirting with Bear all night.
The door opens, and Ottilie storms in. “It’s time. We need to start the meeting.” She doesn’t wait for anyone else, but marches straight towards the table Cordelia set.
And that’s my cue to escape.
Those women are wild.
What if their meeting isn’t simply some friends getting together? They could be part of a secret society created in one of those fancy boarding schools that morphed into a super spy network. The group they’re in is so dark that the government doesn’t even acknowledge their existence. No one would even look at a nutty group of rich women traveling the world.
That would be so perfect for them.
Are they seeking out intelligence on enemy countries…Nah. These women work together to kill terrorists. Ottilie runs the show. Winnie is for close-up kills. Cordelia’s eye for detail would make her the perfect sniper. What would Mindy do? Distraction. That leaves Greer for reconnaissance. Not oneperson is ever going to think she was involved in anything but herself.
The main street has already switched back to normal, which is a little bit of a letdown.
All the drama surrounding the Ivy Café has me stopping in at a little restaurant on the main street. It’s practically empty for a little after one.
This place probably hasn’t changed since the seventies. It’s perfect all the way down to the plastic floral tablecloths. After ordering a cup of chicken noodle soup and potpie to ward off the chill in the air, I pull out my laptop and get to work. It’s slow going because my eyes keep wandering over to the spot in the park. Last night felt like such a change. We made a huge step forward. This could end up being a relationship.
Am I ready for one?
It’s been years and years since my last one. My life…it just works. Why am I even throwing a biker that I know nothing about into the mix and possibly messing it up?
A hearse pulls up onto the main street, followed by a seemingly endless line of motorcycles.
Is that? It can’t be.
But it is. That’s definitely Rogue in the second row. And he has a woman on the back of his bike. Thanks to a little research, I know what that means. The only people on the back of a man’s bike for events like these are the women they're dating or married to.
How can Rogue be saying all these things to me while he has a woman on the back of his bike? She’s beautiful. Perfect for him. With her colorful hair in locks and all that leather on her size two body.
I should hate her, but I'm too busy hating him.
Why would he make me addicted to him when he’s got an old lady?
Why would he do that?
My phone rings. I’m tempted to ignore it. To just walk out and find a place to cry. That’s the weirdest feeling for me.