Once at the bottom of the stairs, I spot the girl leaving the dance floor in the direction of the bar. I don’t know where the guy she was with went, not that I’m complaining. He just made things easier for me by leaving her alone for a few minutes. Really though, a minute is all I need.
Taking a seat next to her at the bar, I nod to the bartender. He knows me since I’m always here. It’s quite handy. I nod my head again in the girl’s direction. He knows what I want. She still hasn’t even glanced my way. This is getting frustrating. What’s up with that little flirtation on the dance floor then she just ignores me? Maybe the smile and wink was for Max. If so, it was a miscalculation on her part. Better set the girl straight.
I take a moment while she’s not paying attention to check her out discreetly. Her body is rockin’. Toned, but not missing any luscious curves. The black dress looks even better up close. Thin straps curve over smooth shoulders and accent the long graceful curve of her throat. The swooped front reveals just enough of her full, plump breasts to have my mouth watering for a better view and maybe a little taste. Dipping in to her small waist and flaring slightly at her hips, it ends in a loose flutter at mid-thigh. I’m digging her spiked heels, which showcase lean thighs and calves.
Her olive skin looks like a light golden tan, but I can tell that it’s her natural skin color. She has glossed full lips that beg for me to kiss and nibble. I can hear them whispering sweet nothings to me, ‘Kiss us, Gabriel. Feel how soft we are. Please give us a kiss’. It’s almost more than a man with my legendary self-control can deal with. She’s not my usual type, blonde and blue-eyed, but I think my new type is exotic and golden from head to cute little red toenails.
As I’m checking her out, she finally turns her head towards me and lifts her eyebrows. “Are you done?” she shouts over the music. Her big eyes are a stunning golden-brown and surrounded by a thick fringe of dark lashes. Pretty. Want.
“No,” I shout back, grinning confidently. As I’d planned, her attention is now solely on me. This is going to be too easy.
Just then, the bartender comes over with two drinks. He places one in front of me and one in front of the girl. “No thanks!” she tells the bartender. He just shrugs and walks off. Good man.
“What’s your name?” I ask her, figuring an introduction is a good place to start.
She smiles knowingly and leans into me. “Anna,” she answers, leaning away from me again. Come back.
“Aren’t you going to ask me my name?” I chastise her.
She just shrugs as if to say that it doesn’t matter. I’m about to lean in and tell her anyways when Max walks up and steps between our seats, blocking my view of her. He says rudely in my ear, “You’re an ass! Introduce me!”
“Fuck off!” I tell him, giving him a dark look. “I got to her first. Go find your own!”
“Fine then, I’ll introduce myself.” He turns around then whirls back to me with a dirty look and stalks off.
After he leaves, I can see what the dirty look was for. Spinning around on the barstool is useless. The girl is gone.
The hot blonde I was checking out earlier stumbles drunkenly to my left. Catching her arm before she hits the ground, I help her onto the now empty barstool next to me. Once situated, she gives me a flirtatious smile, which I walk away from.
Annabelle
Jackson’s waiting for me at the entrance of the club. “How’d it go?” he asks once we’re away from the crowd.
“Exactly as planned,” I confirm. “They’re both interested and I disappeared into thin air.” With one hand, I make a ‘poof’ gesture.
His laugh is deep, drawing the attention of a group of girls behind the velvet rope. It’s always disturbing when women check out my brother. “You’ve definitely set yourself up as a vixen. They’ll be both surprised and ecstatic when you show up at their school on Monday morning. This one time, in Amsterdam-”
“Don’t want to hear it!” I cut him off. “Every time a story of yours starts with ‘one time in Amsterdam’, it ends with me wanting to hurl into the nearest wastebasket.”
“Wimp,” he mumbles with obvious disappointment.
“Yeah, yeah,” I tell him absentmindedly. As we walk to where we’re parked, I’m lost in my thoughts. What was I doing telling him my name is Anna? Sure it isn’t my legal name, Annabelle, but it’s pretty close. I never use any variation of my real name on jobs. Something about Gabriel made me want to. For some odd reason, I didn’t want him calling me a completely fake name. What the hell is wrong with me? He’s just some guy. He’s just a job. Why the hell am I excited to see him again?
Gabriel
I can’t get my mind off the sexy brunette for the rest of the weekend. There was just something about her, an aura of mystery and secrets. Plus, she’s the only girl to ever not succumb to my immense charm. Well, there was that one girl, but that wasn’t my fault. She wasn’t interested in the kind of parts I possess. Where’d Anna go? I searched the club for her, but she was gone. So was the guy she was with. Maybe she left with him. The thought makes me envious. Chill out Gabriel. She’s just some girl, a girl that I’ll never see again. Why the hell does that thought bother me so much?
On Monday morning, I pull into the school’s parking lot and join Max where he’s standing by his car talking to some of the guys. “Hey,” I greet him as if he didn’t ignore my calls for the past two days.
“Hey,” he practically growls the word.
“Oh come on! You’re not still mad about that girl on Friday night?” I tease, pretending a nonchalance I don’t feel. Maybe if I go back to the club this weekend . . . .
Max finally relaxes and smiles. “I guess not. I mean, she did disappear on both of us. Guess she wasn’t interested in either of us.” He’s always quick to forgive, no matter what I do. And I do piss him off often enough. But I have to silently disagree with his last comment. The girl was interested in one of us, I’m sure of it.
Just then, I hear the roar of an engine and turn towards it, along with everyone else in the vicinity. It’s a yellow Lamborghini Murcielago. Nice car. I’m still looking to see if I know the person driving it, when out steps the girl from the club. Anna.
A glance at Max shows me his delightfully shocked expression. Oh hell no! He starts walking towards her with that damn look on his face. The one where he thinks he’s in love again. I catch up with him and trip him. He falls to the ground, but catches himself with his hands on the asphalt. He’ll forgive me later.
Walking up to her, halting her in her tracks, I give her a friendly, “Hey! Remember me?” Her hair’s different from the wavy mass it was Friday night. Today it’s sleek and straight, but still begging for me to run my fingers through it, with red highlights glinting in the sunlight.
She looks up at me blankly, says, “No,” and walks around me to go into the building. Oh that’s a challenge if I ever saw one. Challenge accepted.
Chapter 3
Annabelle
That was actually funny. The shocked look on Gabriel Sanchez’s face when I pretended not to remember him from the club was priceless. I just wish I could’ve taken a picture and posted it on his Facebook page, labeling it ‘Burn’. Knock the cocky male down a notch or two. I’ve read his file and know that he’s quite the ladies’ man, a player through and through. Bet that’s never happened to him before, especially after flashing that expensive smile that daddy’s drug money paid for. Even if he wasn’t connected to the job, I’d remember him. He’s handsome and charismatic. I’ve never thought about it before, but if I had a type, he’d probably be it. Not that he needs to know that.
I’m not stupid. I know what I’m feeling for him is attraction. Not that it matters, because it’s not like I’ve never been attracted to a male before. Hell, I’ve come close to having a one night stand a time or two. Even an assassin can’t avoid teenage hormones. However, I’m usually in one place for such a short amount of time that I’ve learned to just brush off any attraction or intere
st I feel. In my profession there’s no time for something as trivial as a relationship.
Simon taught Jackson and me to only rely on ourselves. He said that our parents’ love for each other was a weakness and that weakness is what got them killed. Despite what Simon taught us, I do love my brother and I would trust him with my life. However, I’m not stupid enough to rely that deeply on any other man, including Simon. After all, my dad couldn’t save my mom.
If I had to attend high school for real, this school seems like it’d do the job nicely. The main building is a long, white two-story structure of stucco, with landscaping and palm trees surrounding it. A blue banner with yellow lettering says ‘Go Rams!’ over the glass doors of the main entrance. For a moment, I imagine myself in a blue and yellow-gold cheerleading uniform. Shuddering, I shake my head. I’d shoot myself first. Passing by the sound of music, I spot musicians playing scales on instruments through an open doorway to the left. I get another image in my head of me wearing a blue and gold marching band uniform, with a trumpet to my lips. That one makes me laugh out loud.
Damn, these little dudes must be freshman. It seems somehow wrong that they attend the same school as people my age, the fully grown humans. I jump defensively when a girl squeals to my right, throwing herself into the arms of another girl. A boy and girl walking up ahead are accomplishing it with the guy wrapped around the girl from behind, moving slowly as one unit. Well, that’s retarded. Wonder what would happen if I tripped the girl. Would the boy’s devotion extend to tumbling down with her?
I already scoped out the school last Saturday night, breaking and entering with Jackson. I’ve memorized all the exits, classroom locations, teachers and staff. I left weapons in hiding places throughout the place just in case. But it’s not likely that I’ll need them. With the help of a computer geek friend, I’ve been enrolled and scheduled in all the same classes as Gabriel and Max. They don’t have any classes together, but I have all of my morning classes with Max and all of my afternoon classes with Gabriel. If I’m to be forced to attend school, not a moment of the time will be wasted.
The students are halfway through the semester, and from research that I’ve done about school, I can assume that one or more teachers will make me stand in the front of the class to ‘introduce’ myself. I wouldn’t have had this extra task, in a school this large, if I’d started at the beginning of the school year. A good chunk of the students are new at that time. I plan to make this work for me, though.
As I’m walking to my first class, someone starts walking alongside me. I don’t have to turn my head to know that it’s Max. Even in a crowd like this, it’d be hard for someone untrained to sneak up on me. Though, that squealing chick did catch me off guard. She’s lucky I didn’t overreact and slam her face into a locker.
I don’t say anything to my walking partner, as if I haven’t noticed. Let him make the first move. Which he does by lamely saying, “Hey, you’re new, right?”
Still, I don’t look at him, as if uninterested in his presence. “Yes.”
“I’m Max. Do you need help finding your first class?” he asks hopefully.
Stopping in the middle of the throng, daring anyone to bump into me, I slowly turn to look at him. I give him a calculated, friendly smile. “That’d be great. By the way, I’m Anna.” Glancing up and down in an obvious way of checking him out, I have to admit he’s hot. Wearing jeans, Converse and a black band shirt that says ‘The Bravery’ in yellow lettering, he’s dressed similar to most of the other males here, but he wears it well. He has a more casual look than Gabriel, who’s wearing expensive designer jeans and a button up shirt and boots. Except for the dark hair, they don’t look much alike.
He notices my perusal and smiles back like I just made his day as I hand him my schedule. He looks it over. “Hey! We have all the same classes before lunch.” The broad smile on his face is triumphant, the poor boy.
Surprise, Surprise! “Really?” I ask with false amazement in my voice.
He looks back up at me. “Yeah, that means I can show you to your first four classes.”
“Lucky me,” I reply, throwing him a warm smile as we start walking again, with me pretending to follow his lead.
“Here we are,” he says, motioning with one hand for me to walk into the classroom ahead of him.
But, before I do, I glance over my shoulder to where Gabriel’s been following us with an aggravated look on his face. I give him an impish smile and wink, just like I did Friday night at the club. Gabriel’s eyes go wide, while Max is oblivious to the little exchange. Walking into the classroom, I innocently ask Max, “Are there assigned seats?”
He looks anticipatory, answering, “Nope, so you can sit by me.”
Raising both eyebrows in amazement, I give him a flirtatious look. “Can I? Well then, lead the way.”
We take two seats next to each other in the second to last row. Wow, these desks are pieces of crap. Along with the uncomfortable seat, the legs aren’t completely level causing it to wobble a little as I move. Nice. Out of habit, I run my fingers over the blades strapped to my outer thigh, through the thin material of my skirt.
“Were you at a club on Friday night called Cameo? I thought I saw someone who looked like you.” As if he doesn’t already know it was me. In a matter of seconds, I debate where I should let this conversation go.
“Yes, I was.” Keeping my face expressionless, with only mild interest showing in my eyes, I wait for his next words.
“You were with a guy . . . ,” Max trails off, obviously fishing for more information.
“Yes, I was.” I answer vaguely again. Sorry to disappoint you, buddy, but for my own purposes, that’s all the details you’re getting. Simon taught me not to give out more information than I have to. Contradicting yourself is a red flag to others that you’re deceiving them.
The math teacher comes into the room seconds before the final bell rings and begins taking roll. When he gets to the name I’m using, as expected he says, “Ah, we have a new student. Anna Walker, will you please come up and introduce yourself to the class?”
Suppressing an eye roll at the encouraging smile Max throws my way and getting up out of the worst seat I’ve ever sat, I have to practically walk sideways through the narrow column of desks. Why do they stuff so many kids into one small classroom? A guy I pass whistles softly so the teacher won’t hear. A few nearby students do hear and either laugh or giggle, depending on their gender. Wonder how they’d react if I backhanded the whistler? Probably laugh some more.
Can’t blame the whistler, I did dress on this job for effect. The desired effect is to get both Max and Gabriel to desire me enough to want to date me and take me home to meet la familia. I’m wearing a loose, fluttering skirt in a deep royal blue that comes to mid-thigh. Paired with a silk cream-colored top and a pair of strappy wedge sandals, I stand out from most of the other girls in a mature and sexy way. It’s a more youthful version of what I’ve worn during past jobs. Usually when on assignment I choose hairstyles, makeup and clothing that make me look older than my age.
Funny, on this job, the goal is to actually look my age. It’s a surreal experience. Not sure how I feel about it yet. The other girls my age here make me feel ancient. It’s in their eyes, their expressions, innocence. They possess a detachment from the real world. Oh, some of them might think they’ve had a dose or two of reality, but they don’t really know. Probably never will know it the way I do.
Once I’m standing in the front of the class, on display, I start to tell them what I’d planned ahead of time. From the distracted expression on the teacher’s face, it’s obvious this is just a formality for him. He could really give a damn about my personal life. I’m just another temporary face until the next batch of kids show up. If I gave a damn, I think my feelings might be hurt.
With a sincere smile and an open expression on my face, I begin speaking, “As the teacher said, my name is Anna Walker. I just moved here from Hong Kong, although I’m not
originally from there. We move around a lot for my father’s business interests. I’m an only child.” Sometimes I wish I really was an only child, brothers are a headache that no drug can cure.
A pretty girl with black hair glares at me and asks, “Where did your parents buy a house at?” I recognize her from one of the pictures of Max’s ex-girlfriends. Her name is Carrie Celeste Cooper. How lame is that? I’ll have to use the name as an alias sometime, when I’m pretending to be someone lame.
“Why does that matter?” I ask with a confused look her way, knowing full well that she’s sizing me up financially. Information that I have on her says that her family is semi-wealthy. Her father is a bank manager and her mother is a doctor. Most of the students at this high school are middle to upper class, being zoned in a nicer area of Miami. Too bad I can’t tell her that I make more money taking lives than her mama makes saving them.
She shrugs and slyly says, “Well, if you’re embarrassed . . . .” I believe this is where I’m supposed to be intimidated or feel the need to spill personal information, so I’ll fit in. Is this my Mean Girls moment? What the skankette doesn’t realize is that she’s a kitten compared to some of the women I’ve dealt with. Cat fights, I sigh inwardly, good times.
“My parents are still house hunting, but we have two suites at The Setai hotel for now,” I reply in an unconcerned manner.
The teacher whistles, paying attention after all, then says, “Expensive taste.” Dang, I’m getting whistles left and right today.
Turning to him, I ask, “Am I finished?” He nods and motions for me to return to my seat. I make sure to not look at Max for the rest of the class period, but can see him out of the corner of my eye as he turns his head to look at me every so often.
Making sure to flirt with him and act friendly in between classes for the rest of the morning, I continue to totally ignore him while in class. Don’t want him to think I’m too eager. He’s to think that I’m interested, but not desperate, possibly just a flirt. The next teacher that makes me ‘introduce’ myself to the class is my fourth period English teacher.
Young Love Murder Page 3
