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The Accidental Assassin

Page 69

   


“Would you stop worrying? Our train doesn’t leave for a few more hours.” Mavis handed me another dress. This one was just as short but had fabric that draped from one shoulder. “Try this one too. It’ll be easier to carry.”
“Carry?” I eyed the red fabric.
“A weapon? Guns, knives, ninja throwing stars.”
“Ah. That type of carrying.” Blowing out a deep breath I took the dress to my tiny changing stall.
“So, what else do we need to do before we leave?” I slipped the red dress over my head, letting the fabric fall into place.
I looked over my shoulder at the dress and tried to not wince. The material basically cupped my ass. How was I going to sit down in this thing?
“Oh, that’s good.” Mavis stuck her head in the door and looked me over. “You can wear black heels with that as well. That’ll save us a little time shopping. Here, go ahead and put this on.” She handed me a bag.
“What is this?”
“If you’re going to be my assistant, you can’t run around wearing an old man’s shirt. I went ahead and bought the clothes. You need to be polished.” She pursed her lips. “We’re going to a hair stylist down the road and getting spruced up. You could use a trim.”
“Gee, it’s like I have a sugar mama.” I opened the bag and looked in.
“You can thank me later.” She winked at me and I chuckled. “Our car will pick us up when we’re done with your hair.”
“Right, get out of here so I can change.” I flapped my hand at her.
“I can’t believe you’re so prudish after all that noise you made with Owen.” She sniffed. “I’m not really into women, you know.”
“I’m sorry about, er, the stuff with Owen.” Heat rushed up my neck. “This is, uh, really awkward.”
“Relax. I just enjoy pushing your buttons. I knew you two were going to be going at it like rabbits when I saw you in the café.” She shrugged. “I really didn’t hear too much. I’m not an idiot and knew what was going on and chose to ignore it. I was busy doing research.”
“Still, it wasn’t very thoughtful.” I cleared my throat.
“Look, in our world, you have to take what you need when you can get it. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed.” Where her eyes had been teasing before, they were dead serious now. “If you’re worried about what happened between me and Owen, you shouldn’t. We trusted each other enough to let our guard down for an hour or two. That’s all it was. I mean, he’s attractive and all, but…it wasn’t the right fit.”
“I…thank you for being understanding.” Giving up on the thought of privacy, I slipped out of the red dress and carefully hung it back up. I picked out the black pencil skirt, blue sweater, and black heels. I wasn’t wearing any jewelry, but most people wouldn’t notice that right away.
“Before you tuck in the sweater, here is a discreet holster. It wraps around your waist.” She passed me a black stretchy strip that closed in the middle with bra hooks. “You’ll have to untuck your sweater to get to your gun, but it’s better than nothing.”
I wrapped it around and managed to stick my small pistol in without shooting myself in the butt crack. I tucked the sweater in, making sure to fluff it in the back.
“Here,” she said. She dug in the bag and pulled out a small black cardigan. “This will help.”
I pulled it on and stepped into the shoes she’d chosen for me to wear. There was also a pair of pearl earrings stuck to a small cardboard card. I popped those in my ears and checked my reflection. My hair was disheveled, but the rest of me looked ready to be a sex-pot on her way to a job interview. Not bad at all.
“Let’s go.” The little woman picked up one of my new bags. “We need to get you a briefcase and small travel bag, but first we should get your hair done. It looks like you tumbled out of bed from a one night stand.”
“Gosh, you know how to make a girl feel good about herself.” I rolled my eyes before tucking the money Owen had given me into my bra. My lips pursed as I fought a scowl. I didn’t usually stick things in my bra for safekeeping, but this skirt didn’t have any pockets and I couldn’t just carry it around in my hand. Lots of women thought it was a perfectly acceptable place to store things, but in high school I had worked at a grocery store. When you have a woman dig sweaty coins and soaking wet bills out of her bra to pay for her frozen pizza and beer, you just couldn’t think of sticking stuff in your bra again. Boob sweat wasn’t something that should be shared.
We stopped by a small boutique where I purchased a purse, travel bag, and briefcase. From there we hurried to get my hair cut. The stylist was not impressed with my hair care routine. I was lectured on the damages of putting your hair up while still wet, moisturizing, and hair masks. By the time she had passed me on to the makeup artist I’d promised to never skip a mud treatment for my hair. Once they had deemed me acceptable, I was released from the chair that I’d been trapped in, and staggered to the front desk where Mavis waited.
“What do you think?” She eyed me critically.
“I feel like a plucked chicken.” I touched my forehead gingerly.
“Excuse me?” Mavis cocked her head to the side.
“Never mind.” I shook my head. “Am I satisfactory?”
“Yes.” She handed money over to the woman at the register. “Our car is out front. Are you ready to leave?”