of the pots and potions lining her dressing table unopened, Jerry applied self-proclaimed miracle creams that made her skin feel like silk and makeup that cost more than her monthly car payment. She couldn’t remember the last time she had to primp this much for an assignment, including the time she worked undercover as a high-class call girl to help break up a drug ring.
The silk floral cocktail dress she’d already selected to wear that evening hinted at a classic fifties-era design with its tight fitting bodice, sweetheart neckline and full, fluffy skirt. She’d always loved the style, but dressing for dinner in her world usually meant slacks and a sweater, or at best, a simple skirt and blouse. Living, eating and breathing the SSCD left no room for exploring her secret passion for vintage clothing and all things girly. She’d never admit it to Dylan or Nate, but this assignment spoke to her innermost desires on so many levels.
Letting the dress fall over her head, she was pleased to see that it stopped just above her knees, though she suspected that it was designed to land below the knee on a woman of average height. Still, it was acceptable, classic and more than a little flirty.
She left her hair long, as that was the unsub’s preference, and attached a sapphire studded clip to one side as her only accessory. With one last glance at her reflection, she grabbed a matching pashmina and headed for the door.
Ethan’s reaction as she entered the room told Jerry everything she needed to know. “Wow, you look wonderful.” She was made to satisfy every man’s fantasy, he thought. The perfect combination of classic beauty and sultry sensuality. He wondered how he’d gotten so lucky.
“Thanks. You clean up pretty good yourself.” She smiled approvingly at his deep blue suit and crisp white shirt.
The three-inch pumps she’d chosen brought her to within an inch of Ethan’s 6’4”stance. Together they made a striking pair and would surely turn more than one head tonight.
“Are you ready for our debut?” Ethan’s dimples deepened when he smiled at her.
“As I’ll ever be.” Jerry took his proffered arm and felt a jolt race through her system. “By the way, Dylan called to remind us that the society editor from the Chronicle will be there tonight. Plans are to plaster our photo and a brief “look who’s here” article in the paper tomorrow.”
“That should help get his attention.” Ethan made a grand gesture of opening the door. “Your kingdom awaits, m’lady.”
Jerry couldn’t help but smile and feel a little like Cinderella. “Why thank you, kind sir,” she responded and swept out the door.
Word that a photographer from the Chronicle would be at Quincette that evening had spread to at least a dozen paparazzi, all of whom were waiting when Ethan escorted Jerry from the car. Doing her best to appear aloof and disinterested in the face of so many flashing cameras, Jerry held onto Ethan’s hand and let him lead her into the restaurant.
The beautifully appointed dining room was both modern and relaxed. Tables set with candlelight and crystal beaconed diners to sit and enjoy. As the hostess led them to a two-top in the middle of the room, Jerry tried not to look impressed with the ambiance. The woman she portrayed would be accustomed to such beautiful surroundings; she would also be used to the admiring glances she felt directed at both her and Ethan.
She could hardly blame the women; Ethan looked like a walking orgasm. Some were watching him covertly, others openly stared. She sat up just a little straighter, knowing that he was hers, even if it was only work.
“You’re creating a sensation.” His words surprised her, the only ‘sensation’ she could see was the women’s reactions to him.
“I think you mean you’re stirring things up.”
“Maybe a little, but every man in the room wishes he were me tonight.” Ethan reached across the table and took her hand. She felt it in her
The silk floral cocktail dress she’d already selected to wear that evening hinted at a classic fifties-era design with its tight fitting bodice, sweetheart neckline and full, fluffy skirt. She’d always loved the style, but dressing for dinner in her world usually meant slacks and a sweater, or at best, a simple skirt and blouse. Living, eating and breathing the SSCD left no room for exploring her secret passion for vintage clothing and all things girly. She’d never admit it to Dylan or Nate, but this assignment spoke to her innermost desires on so many levels.
Letting the dress fall over her head, she was pleased to see that it stopped just above her knees, though she suspected that it was designed to land below the knee on a woman of average height. Still, it was acceptable, classic and more than a little flirty.
She left her hair long, as that was the unsub’s preference, and attached a sapphire studded clip to one side as her only accessory. With one last glance at her reflection, she grabbed a matching pashmina and headed for the door.
Ethan’s reaction as she entered the room told Jerry everything she needed to know. “Wow, you look wonderful.” She was made to satisfy every man’s fantasy, he thought. The perfect combination of classic beauty and sultry sensuality. He wondered how he’d gotten so lucky.
“Thanks. You clean up pretty good yourself.” She smiled approvingly at his deep blue suit and crisp white shirt.
The three-inch pumps she’d chosen brought her to within an inch of Ethan’s 6’4”stance. Together they made a striking pair and would surely turn more than one head tonight.
“Are you ready for our debut?” Ethan’s dimples deepened when he smiled at her.
“As I’ll ever be.” Jerry took his proffered arm and felt a jolt race through her system. “By the way, Dylan called to remind us that the society editor from the Chronicle will be there tonight. Plans are to plaster our photo and a brief “look who’s here” article in the paper tomorrow.”
“That should help get his attention.” Ethan made a grand gesture of opening the door. “Your kingdom awaits, m’lady.”
Jerry couldn’t help but smile and feel a little like Cinderella. “Why thank you, kind sir,” she responded and swept out the door.
Word that a photographer from the Chronicle would be at Quincette that evening had spread to at least a dozen paparazzi, all of whom were waiting when Ethan escorted Jerry from the car. Doing her best to appear aloof and disinterested in the face of so many flashing cameras, Jerry held onto Ethan’s hand and let him lead her into the restaurant.
The beautifully appointed dining room was both modern and relaxed. Tables set with candlelight and crystal beaconed diners to sit and enjoy. As the hostess led them to a two-top in the middle of the room, Jerry tried not to look impressed with the ambiance. The woman she portrayed would be accustomed to such beautiful surroundings; she would also be used to the admiring glances she felt directed at both her and Ethan.
She could hardly blame the women; Ethan looked like a walking orgasm. Some were watching him covertly, others openly stared. She sat up just a little straighter, knowing that he was hers, even if it was only work.
“You’re creating a sensation.” His words surprised her, the only ‘sensation’ she could see was the women’s reactions to him.
“I think you mean you’re stirring things up.”
“Maybe a little, but every man in the room wishes he were me tonight.” Ethan reached across the table and took her hand. She felt it in her
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