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“Because you’re fucking perfect,” Cyrus finished for him.
“Oh look at you two. Being all sappy,” I told them, forcing a smile because their efforts deserved it.
I had a feeling it was going to take a lot of forcing to get myself out of bed, showered, dressed, and out of the house. But, let’s face it, I was the queen of faking things. I could fake entire identities, actual relationships, and no one was ever the wiser.
I could fake the old Wasp for the evening.
Maybe if I did it well enough, I could even convince myself it was true.
“Thank you guys. For coming. I’m usually the one doing the ass-kicking in this family, but I’m happy to know you guys are willing to do it too when I need it.”
They left half an hour later, and Raven plied me with cups of coffee as I went through the process of getting myself together.
Something about the ritual of general self-care helped break up some of the dark clouds that had been hanging overhead, letting little slices of light shine through.
It wasn’t happy.
It wasn’t even status quo.
But it was better than sobbing in the shower.
It was better than barely being able to force myself out of bed.
I guess there was a reason for that old ‘fake it ’till you make it’ phrase.
“I’m sorry, who are you?” Raven asked when I made my way down the stairs after slipping into the highest pair of heels I owned. They were what I called “sit down shoes,” but I figured that I would be spending most of my night at a poker table, so they would work. “The only guest we have staying here has giant mats in her hair and a permanent pillow indent on her cheek.”
“Do you think it’s too much?” I asked, waving down at the skin-colored silk bow-tied open back dress. The hemline was of the mini variety, and the bodice dipped low, leaving very little to the imagination. It was the sexiest dress I owned. I figured if I was going to do it, I was going to do it right.
“I think it is just enough,” Raven shot back. “But hold on. You need something,” she told me, getting up, rushing upstairs, coming back down with a simple gold necklace with a small golden bee pendant. “I had this picked out for your next birthday, but I think it completes the look,” she told me, going behind me to slip it on. “There. That’s perfect. I know you still feel like garbage, but sometimes getting your warpaint on can help. I hope you have a lot of fun.”
“Did you see my car pull up?”
“Yeah, they’re waiting. Get super wasted and take them for all that they’ve got. And given the kind of people I hear frequent those types of places, that is a lot. Like a vacation house a lot,” she told me, wiggling her brows. By the time the car was dropping me off at the location on the chip, I could feel anticipation starting to bubble up inside.
It was smart of my brothers to pick an illegal casino over something tame like going out to dinner or the movies. The thrill of it was possibly the only thing that could penetrate the thick wall of regret I’d been building inside.
“Oh, now, look at this one,” a tall, svelte blonde woman with ice-blue eyes said as I walked in their direction. She was in a pair of champagne-colored slacks and a blue silk top, giving her an air of casual sophistication —not to mention money, judging by the diamonds at her ears.
“If she is coming with us tonight, she’s not looking to work for you, Faye,” a tall, attractive bald black man in a gray suit told the woman, then turned to give me a smile.
“Aero,” he said, extending his hand. “And this is Faye. You are?”
“Wasp,” I told them, inclining my chin toward the man walking up behind them.
“Oh, and this is Richard Balefire,” Aero introduced.
“You’re bringing your girls now, Faye?” Richard Balefire said, inclining his head at me.
“I’m not entirely sure if that is a compliment or insult,” I told Richard, getting a smirk from him.
“Faye is a madam,” he explained.
“So you think I’m a prostitute,” I mused, feeling my lips twitch.
“A very, very expensive call girl,” Faye corrected.
“Well then, I guess that’s a pretty good compliment.”
“You’re new here,” Richard Balefire concluded.
“I’m not from around here,” I told them. “Anymore,” I added. “I am just in town for a few weeks. I needed a fun night out.”
“What’s your game, Wasp?” Aero asked.
“Oh, honey,” I cooed, giving him a once over the way the old Wasp would, always running a con even when I wasn’t working. “It doesn’t matter. I always win,” I told him, watching as his smile went a little devilish.
