Page 56 of The Chosen Two

“Hey, George? What the hell are you doing?”

He does this weird circular thing with both arms. “Kata.”

“Umm, okay. Why don’t I do that?”

“You just don’t yet. You will. Believe it or not, we haven’t gotten far in your training in the whopping two weeks we’ve been working together.”

“Shut up. It has not only been two weeks. Has it?” My mouth hangs open for a moment mid-chew.

He stops, drops his hands to his hips, and looks at me, head cocked to one side impatiently.

I picture a calendar in my mind’s eye and trace back the days. “Holy shit, really? Why does it feel like it’s been a lifetime?”

“Well, you’ve had a lot to absorb in that time. I get it. Anyway, do you plan on going back to sleep when you’re done eating, or should we walk around the resort a little and see if we find anything that may matter in some way? You know, like maybe the villa that your husband is probably being held captive in.”

“Oh, that’s not a bad idea! Let me just finish and then take a shower and get changed.”

“In that case, I’ll go shower now. You enjoy your burger. We do have time. It’s okay.”

I nod and spin back around to the desk, helping myself to the fries. They’re a little cold but still super yummy. I focus all my attention on my food. My anxiety is kicking up, telling me that I have lost Jake to those goddesses.

Once I’m done eating and George is done in the bathroom, I pick out clothes for the concert and bite my lip as I flip through the clothes Eliza brought me for the trip, clothes she said would be more appropriate than my middle-aged-mom wardrobe, as she put it anyway. Luckily, she wrapped each outfit together and tied the bundles with a ribbon so I didn’t mess up her hard work. I grab a pack of clothes and my toiletries bag and run back to the bathroom.

I try to take a hot shower to erase my nerves. Much better. Then I unwrap Eliza’s bundle. It turns out I’m going to have to kill her when I get home. I unroll the outfit I brought in with me and search for the rest of it. There’s a post it inside.

Great choice! This will snap Jake out of whatever spell those hussies have him under! Don’t forget your bold red lip!

Holy Shit. No. How am I supposed to even leave the bathroom in this, much less go out in public? I put on the corset top. The red and black satin damask has black lace trim along the top edge, two black buttons between the cups. The four strips of boning are wrapped in black satin. I actually kind of look hot. I also kind of look like I’m wearing lingerie, but whatever. It’s Vegas, right? If ever I had a chance to try out a new sexy fashion, this is it. At least the pants are simply skinny jeans in a dark wash. Nice and simple.

I style and diffuse my curls, carefully draw on my eyeliner and swipe my mascara so people can tell I have eyelashes. Last, I apply my favorite red lipstick. It’s really more like a shellack that doesn’t come off until I remove it than a true lipstick, but that’s fine. If I can be sure of nothing else right now, at least I’m sure my lipstick will last. I’m suddenly afraid of what shoes Eliza put in there to go with this ensemble. I crack the bathroom door open.

“Hey George, I’m going to come out now. Can you please not look at me? Like, at all? For the rest of the night? My friend packed clothes for me and…just, please please don’t look, okay? And if you happen to see me by accident or something, please don’t laugh.”

“Oh stop. Just come out here.”

So, I do. He doesn’t laugh. His eyebrows go up, and he smiles proudly. “Damn.”

“Do I look horrible? Shit.” I rush past him to the suitcase to try to find something, anything, else to wear.

“Miranda, stop.” He grabs my shoulders, and his eyes lock on mine. “You, do not, look horrible. Also, I’m sorry for being inappropriate. I really have no excuse. But I need you to know I mean this: you look fucking gorgeous. Own it.”

I melt into a giggling little girl. “Um, thanks…okay. I have to find shoes now so we can actually go do this thing.”

Thankfully, Eliza packed only my own shoes, so I know I can walk in them, for short distances at least. And, bless her soul, she packed a pair of flats with the post it note:

These are not fashionable, but since you’ll probably have to walk a lot and kick some fairytale ass, and I don’t want you to break an ankle…

I grab the zip up black wedge booties, put them in my oversized leather shoulder bag, and put on the flats. When I look at George again, he looks like a sentimental, nostalgic sensei whose student is all grown up. Once again, I see his father in his expression.

“George, do not get distracted now. We have a concert to attend and a bunch of goddesses to defeat. We need to focus, because regardless of the asshole he’s behaved like recently, Jake is a good man and a great father, and my children need him back. I need him back. I need to figure out my marriage with him. And in order to do that, we need to focus and get this done. Right?”

He shakes his whole body out, like he’s warming up for a fight. “I’m good. I’m focused. On the concert. On the Muses. On Jake. I’m good. Let’s do this.”

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

We take the elevator down to the lobby and grab a bite in the grill before we go to the concert. I have a coke and some bread because I can’t possibly eat more than that, but I felt the need to fuel myself somehow, so this was my compromise. I switch to my heeled booties when we head into the concert hall.

We walk up to the first mezzanine and are guided down to our seats behind the waist-high wooden wall with the brass bar running along it. Even though I thought we were going to be super far away, now that we’re here, I feel like if I jumped with enough conviction, I could make it to the stage. I mean, yes, I’m technically a superhero, but you know what I mean.

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