As soon as Jo situated herself onto a barstool, one of the Lucky's bartenders, Ryan, made his way over to her. Scott stopped his coworker saying, "I got this. Thanks, man."
Ryan shook his head but walked away.
"Tequila on the rocks?" Scott asked Jo. "By the way, you look especially amazing tonight."
Jo blushed. She had slipped out of her silver Versace dress into something more casual – a black silk camisole and a chic pant – but her hair was loosely curled and her makeup was more boldly applied from an earlier mission.
"Tequila would be amazing," she said gratefully. As the two made small talk, Jo's mind started to wander. She was drawn to Scott for some reason. He felt familiar, and she was completely at ease around him.
Jo suspected he had some sort of military background from the way he carried himself. His tough exterior was reminiscent of the guys she grew up with - specifically, her older brother and his best friend - which was a result of their rigorous training and all the crazy shit they had been exposed to.
Scott also had a protective side: he was always eyeing the other male patrons who approached her. But despite his hard exterior, Jo knew he was a softie deep down. She never asked him about his background, however, as that would open the door to questions about her own. And she didn't want to lie to him.
Scott's voice interrupted her thoughts. "I don't want to overstep here, but Brandon... is bad news."
Jo grimaced upon hearing her ex-lover's name. The last time she was with Brandon, he had surreptitiously admitted that he loved her, and she had been avoiding him like the plague ever since.
"How so?" Jo asked, playing dumb. She couldn't exactly admit that Brandon's womanizing ways was why she was attracted to him in the first place. Jo wanted a purely casual relationship without strings attached or feelings involved.
Plus, she was still in love with her brother's best friend. Jo knew she would never feel the way about anyone the way she did about him. But he and her brother were spies for the Agency, and unless she joined the very institution that caused her parents' death - which she refused to do - she was never going to see them again.
"Well, to put it lightly, Brandon is a bit of a player," Scott said in an apologetic tone.
Her black leather clutch vibrated on the bartop, and Jo pulled out her gold phone.
Speak of the devil, she thought to herself.
Brandon: Are you awake?
Jo was putting her phone back into her black clutch when the phone vibrated again.
Brandon: Can I come over?
She just shook her head. "You don't have to worry about me," she said to Scott with a smile.
Jo appreciated his protectiveness, but she wasn't the one that needed protecting.
Just ask Brandon.
Just ask the the man she had robbed and left naked and unconscious in his penthouse suite.
* * * * * *
Earlier that evening, Jo had been waiting patiently at a swanky hotel bar, absentmindedly running a finger around the rim of her glass. She was a vision in a clingy, floor-length silver dress with a slit up to her thigh. The dress hugged her every curve, and as soon as she walked in, she could feel eyes undressing her. But she was here for one man and one man only: Christian Pierce.
Christian Pierce was the CFO of a national energy company, and she was being paid to acquire proof of his shady dealings. Jo had it on good authority that the wealthy bachelor would often lose his mind on booze, drugs, and sex - all weaknesses she could easily exploit.
YOU ARE READING
Femme Fatale
Mystery / Thriller[Explicit Content] Jo Bennett is an apathetic college student by day and a highly skilled spy by night. She uses sex to get what she wants and alcohol to numb her feelings. She's perfectly content with the status quo and has no intention of looking...
