C H A P T E R E L E V E N
Melinda was likely reorganizing everything in my kitchen drawers and cabinets when Dad was home and in my office watching television. I was in the shower sweating out over my date with Falcone.
This freaking out incident was caused in part by the fact that I was getting ready for my date with Falcone and wasn't sticking to my guns about not going on a date with Falcone, as well as the fact that once again, I was probably making bad decisions regarding all things Falcone.
Additionally, I really, really hoped he loved my dress, which contributed to my anxiety.
I was aware that the commandos had finished installing my security system since Smoke had given Melinda and I a very thorough tutorial on how to utilize it.
It appeared challenging. I didn't have an alarm system, but I assumed you normally just entered a few digits, and voila! - safety. However, mine included emergency buttons in my living room, kitchen, office, bedroom, and, for extra security, the bathroom. It also provided alternative codes for various alerts, such as windows and doors only or codes to turn on the house's sensors. A separate code was also used to inform "base," whatever the heck that meant, that there may be an uncertain scenario and to enter "softly."
Melinda and I both struggled to recall numbers, so when she went to find a piece of paper to write them down, Smoke grimaced, tightened his teeth, and dragged Melinda and me into my kitchen. He made us sit at my large, scuffed farm table and tested us on the three separate codes until we had them all remembered.
He wasn't really being patient with this project, especially after Melinda leaned in and said, "I'm not sure what the big issue is, honey, I mean, I don't want to humiliate you, but your Dad and I know you and Falcone are..." her voice dropped, "intimate," I averted Smoke's gaze as Melinda continued. "I mean, it's not like he's not here watching out for you."
I shrugged and bit my lip. I was at a loss for what to do. She assumed Falcone and I were a couple because Falcone made her believe we were, and I wasn't helping matters by playing his game. Clearly, she believed I was secure in his care. That was something I didn't want to meddle with. Not the day after her house had been firebombed as a result of one of her daughters' trash.
My stepmom and I also didn't want to discuss having a sexual relationship. Melinda was cool—she always had been—but she was also the only mother I knew. She had always been a mother, and she was one who had been there for her children. You never discussed having super-multiple orgasmic sex with gorgeous people with your mother; in fact, Dad picked up the codes in just a few seconds. His aptitude for math had always been strong. It was his style.
As I was looking into the mirror and lining my lips, the doorbell rung and then clunked. Immediately, I experienced stomach butterflies. The sort I suppressed feeling every time Falcone visited me after I first saw him and the kind I felt when I first saw him.
"I'll get it!" Melinda shrieked from the lower level, so I took a deep breath and finished applying my liner before filling in the gaps with lipstick.
Trust Falcone to ring my doorbell for the first time now. If he appeared out of nowhere in the shower, I probably wouldn't have butterflies in my stomach. I'd probably become irritated.
I quickly went to my room, got my handbag and wrap, and then hurried to the door to slightly close it so I could use the back-facing full-length mirror.
Check. Little black dress. It was really my very first little black dress. The finest of all of them. It was sleeveless, with a deep vee in the front that revealed cleavage, a much deeper one in the back, and a blousy drape around the center. However, where it stopped, on my hips and the tops of my thighs, it clung like a second skin. It was far too brief. Without the skank element, it was nearly Arlene slash Isabelle mini jeans skirt short. And it was constructed of a fantastic material that grabbed at skin even on the blousy sections, revealing what it was purported to conceal. It was wonderful.
Yes, high heels. They were actually black strappy shoes with a beautiful spike heel. They gave my legs a gorgeous appearance. Killer.
Smoky makeup and long hair.
The entire thing, the be all you could be of current clothing.
I had hoped.
"See you later, Dad!" I yelled as I stormed out of my room.”
"Have a wonderful time, honey!" Dad yelled back. "Tell Falcone not to be concerned about the doorbell; I'll repair it this weekend!" ”
As an added bonus, Dad was relocated to my house due to smoke and fire damage. Handyman on the premises.
"That'll do!" I screamed, though I doubted Falcone was disturbed by my clacking doorbell.
The living room was dark, but there was a light, and voices were coming from the kitchen as I hurried down the stairs. Falcone was likely offered a drink by Melinda. I resigned as Head Hostess while Melinda was staying at my residence. I knew it was the right course of action. The First Lady would definitely stand aside and give Melinda the reins if she went to the White House for a state dinner.
I hurried to the kitchen but came to a complete halt when I spotted Melinda talking to Detective Connor Magtanggol at the doorway.
With the fire with Dad and Falcone battling the flames with fire extinguishers last night, I hadn't had the opportunity to observe how hot he was once again. Now that he was in my kitchen and I was in a tiny black dress with my hair down to my waist, when his eyes moved to me and he froze, I had another chance to comprehend how attractive he looked.
So I accepted it.
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