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“Like how? He’s a multi-millionaire. What chance do I have going up against him? But I tell you this, Shaye, he can stick his date where the sun don’t shine.”
“Oh no, no, no.” She wags her finger. “You’re gonna go on that date.”
I shake my head. “No! Why on earth should I?”
“To play him at his own game. And babe... you’re gonna play dirty.”
I stare as she laughs, strangely and loudly. Like a witch on steroids. “That might be funny if it didn’t terrify me.”
“When you’re done, he’s gonna be eating out your hand, and then you’re gonna kick him in the nuts. Nice and hard.” She laughs again, less the witch, more demonic. “Lemme at your closet, little angel,” she says with an evil grin.
“I don’t have one.” My closet is actually two cardboard boxes stuffed with jeans, cut-offs and tees and a few sweaters stowed under my bed.
She thumps her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Course you don’t.” She takes hold of my shoulders and stares me straight in the eye. “Okay. Shut up shop for the day. We’re going to my place. Serious work to do.”
I don’t protest. No point. When Shaye is on a mission, nothing but Armageddon will stop her.
