Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
We had several storage units filled with cars we could use to get around without the danger of discovery of using our own with their pesky traceable license plates. And one unit was all kitted out as our personal Angels Headquarters, and it was rad. In fact, when we first got it, Arthur had put Andy Warhol-like portraits in it of all of us, including Shanti and Willow, so that was how we knew our numbers were going to grow.
We had equipment, and it wasn’t only the ear thingies.
We were totally official (unofficially), and we had Tasers and a laser pointer to prove it.
So, during our surveillance, we’d found that Kevin got his jollies (and his luxury sustenance, not to mention a few stolen wallets, designer purses or cell phones) by hooking up with chicks he’d matched with on the Stung dating app. He’d ask them to dinner at a fancy restaurant, rack up a bill of hundreds of dollars on wine and food that he intimated was on him, then “nip to the bathroom,” only to disappear and leave the chick to foot the bill. Alternatively, she’d nip to the bathroom, and he’d take anything he could grab and vamoose.
In the end, she’d be trying to foot that bill or deal with getting home without her wallet, phone or car keys.
Gross, right?
Oh yeah.
Totally gross.
Listen up girls, at the very least, take all your stuff when you use the bathroom on a first date. Maybe even a second (or third) one.
That wasn’t the only reason Kevin was far from a peach. From what Willow said, he was a total dick as a boyfriend too. He wasn’t a physical abuser, he was an emotional one, and that hurt just the same.
This meant that right then I was wearing a cute date dress that was off-the-shoulder with cap sleeves (that ended in tiny ruffles) and had a twirly, short skirt, all of this in a subtle floral print. I had loose-curled hair, perfect date night makeup, and on my feet were high-heeled pink strappy sandals with poofy flowers at the backs of my ankles.
And my girls were stationed inside and outside Oceans 44 by Scottsdale Fashion Square, one of the hip, trendy, see-and-be-seen, expensive restaurants in that tony locale.
We were going to catch him in the act.
What we planned to do after that, I was a little vague on (a little, as in, I had no clue). We had no authority to detain him. But Raye and Luna had a plan, and considering Raye and Luna were a little crazy (in a good way, but still crazy), I was thinking I was glad I didn’t know what they intended to do after we caught him.
“Wait, what?” Willow said in my earpiece. “What’s Trev doing here?”
“Trev?” Raye asked.
“Trev, Kevin’s best friend,” Willow answered.
“They’re Kev and Trev?” Jessie asked while laughing.
“I know, right?” Willow said, also laughing.
“I see him because he’s incoming, Lolo. He’s heading right to you,” Luna warned.
I watched the tallish, relatively good-looking, well-dressed guy walking toward me, attention right on me, and he was smiling.
“I’m not thrilled with this,” Jessie said. “It’s obvious he’s not here to be a lookout. He’s going directly to her.”
“Keep your shit sharp, Harlow,” Raye ordered.
I fought rolling my eyes.
I loved my girls, well and truly, but just because I was girlie (okay, ultra girlie) didn’t mean I was an idiot. I mean, obviously this change in plan meant I needed to stay sharp, but honestly, with what I was doing, I would be that anyway.
Though, truth told, Raye was probably just worried about this sudden change. My crew didn’t treat me like I was a moron. I was transferring, because there were other people in my life (Hi, Mom!) who did.
But it was good advice since the guy was headed right to me like his face had been on the profile of the dude I’d been messaging for a week, when it was not.
“Missy?” he asked as he made my table.
That was the name we decided for me to use undercover. We thought it was three parts uber-girlie, and one part being a guy might underestimate a woman named Missy.
I attempted to look confused, and when his smile broadened, I figured he bought it.
“I’m Jay, Bryan’s friend.”
Yep. They were using fake names too.
“He’s going to be late, and I was in the area, so he asked me to stop by and keep you company,” Jay/Trev continued.
Ugh.
Such a lie.
What were they playing at?
I pretended to shift anxiously in my seat. “I don’t feel really comfortable with that.”
Even as I said this, he slid into the chair opposite me.
“We’ll just have a cocktail,” Jay/Trev continued. “Maybe order some oysters. I’ll clear out when Bryan shows.”
Ah.
So, since Trev was “in the area,” he thought he could tag-team this and leave me with a bill that included Trev enjoying a twenty-plus dollar cocktail and some market price oysters.