A Woman Like Me...

Ambrosia

     I spent much of the next day studying blueprints and pictures club of Ambrosia.  I needed to know all of the entrances and exits.  Where the windows were located and how big each of them were.  I studied the VIP section to determine the best way to attempt to hear a conversation between booths over the blaring music.  I was trying my best to be ready for any circumstance, just like I always was.

     After a day of studying, I showered and dressed, preparing myself to meet Trace in the foyer before we left for Ambrosia.  I could feel butterflies dancing around in my stomach; I was extremely nervous for what was to come.  But, truth be told, I was not worried about the actual mission itself.  I had been on hundreds of missions like this before, it should not be a problem for me to get what I needed.  No, I was not nervous because of the mission.  I was nervous because I was going to be interacting with Trace.  Not just interacting, we interacted all of the time, so that was not really the issue.  The problem that I was having was in the nature of our interaction.  We were going to be there on a date and we were expected to behave as if we had been drinking heavily.  Because of this, we would be behaving romantically, intimately.

     In all of the years and all of the missions that I had gone on with Trace as my partner; we had NEVER acted as a couple.  Whenever that role was required, I usually went with someone else, that was how I met Ryker.  I tried to separate myself from Trace in this way, being that I had been harboring feelings for him for so long.  However, about six months ago, Trace had discovered Ryker leaving my bedroom after one of our nights together.  He did not seem to mind too much in the beginning, but when he found out that it had been going on for a while, things took a sudden change.  Ryker and I began to see less and less of each other.  I was sticking closer to home and he was being sent farther away.  It did not bother either of us; I just found it to be a weird coincidence.

     I slipped on an all-black lace dress with a plunging neckline that clung to my curves, perfectly, and came down just below my ass.  I put large curls into my hair, offering it plenty of bounce, and upped my usual makeup game as well.  Instead of my typical natural, "barely-there" look, I went full on glamour girl.  Black eyeshadow with glitter accents, "cat-eyes" eyeliner, bright red lipstick and just an accent of shimmering blush on each of my cheekbones.  I topped the look off with a pair of stiletto heels; some large, gold hoop earrings; and a long, drooping, gold necklace to accentuate the, already very obvious, drop in my neckline.  If I was going to do this, if I was going to pretend to be "one of Trace's girls" for the night, then I was going to do it right.

     I tucked my favorite switchblade into a strap, extremely high up on my thigh, so that the dress would just barely cover it.  Then I grabbed my black clutch purse and picked out my smallest pistol to place inside of it.  Just in case it was needed, I put the tiniest tape recorder that I could find in the clutch as well; leaving no more space in the bag.  Lastly, I put in the earpiece that would allow me to remain in contact with the others throughout the mission, in case Trace and I required back-up at any time.

     I walked out towards the living room, where I discovered Trace and Jay, deep in conversation.  I did not want it to appear that I was eavesdropping, so I cleared my throat to make my presence known.  Jay looked over at me first while Trace was looking down at the phone in his hands.

     "Wow!  Looking good, Merce."  Jay offered with a wink and a chuckle.

     "Yeah, thanks."  I responded, rolling my eyes, before laughing as well.

     Then Trace looked up from his phone and his reaction was beyond what I had expected from him.  I thought that he would ignore my appearance all together and if he did happen to acknowledge me, I thought that, at most, he would make a pass at me, in an obviously joking manner.  What I did not expect is that is mouth would drop open and he would, literally, stare me up and down without the slightest effort to hide what he was doing; he was checking me out.