Page 76 of Uncovering GigaByte


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“We’re fixing brunch and making mimosas,” Voodoo answered. “Only, I’m not allowed to touch the liquor.”

“We said you couldn’t mix the liquor. You can touch all you want, after Aria’s mixed the drinks.”

“So touchy. When are you guys going to let what happened in Vegas go? I thought what happened in Vegas, stayed in Vegas.”

Byte snorted while Ivy sniggered.

“Not if what happened resulted in three marriages,” Ivy answered.

“Two. Yours was already planned. Plus, y’all had already tied the knot.”

“I’ll concede to that one.”

“Wait! Why are we having brunch today?” Byte asked.

“Because we want you to know we support you with whatever decision you make. I for one have no room to judge. I knew about Steve for years and didn’t want to meet him or Tyler.”

“But you regret that,” Byte reminded her.

“I do, but at the time, I was protecting myself the only way I knew how,” Ivy reasoned.

“And I’m curious about your other assignment. You were very vague about it yesterday,” Voodoo said.

“There’s not much to tell. I have to do some undercover work.”

“What kind of undercover?” Aria asked. She wasn’t a fan of those assignments any longer.

“I’m going to a gala at the capital.”

“Wait? Isn’t that for the incumbent state representative? What does Karma have to do with that?” Ivy asked.

“Like I said, it’s recon. We needed someone who could get close to him. That will be me.”

“And you don’t think you’ll stand out. You’re not the typical gala kind of girl.”

“No, Voodoo. I’m going undercover, meaning I will fit into a persona.”

“You dying your hair?” Aria asked.

“No, I have a wig.”

“The red one?” Voodoo asked. She’d seen Byte’s stash when she’d needed to escape the city a few months earlier.

“No, black. My dress is red.”

“What shoes are you wearing?” Ivy asked.

“No clue.”

“Wait a minute, missy! You can’t leave that to the very end. Shoes make the outfit. Show me the dress. I’m sure I have something you can wear.”

Under duress, Byte opened her closet door, reading the latest Dove wrapper by Carina T. from Nevada.Hands are meant to be held.

The image of Hunter holding her hand flickered through her mind. She had to agree with Carina.

The girls calling for her to hurry up had her brain switching from Hunter to shoes. Ivy stepped inside the closet, gave a brief glance at the wrappers, and threw up her hands in defeat.

“Do you have anything with something taller than two inches?”

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