Free Confessions Of An Old Lady by Christina Morgan

Luckily, I had brought my laptop with me and my Rosetta Stone software. I’d been trying to learn Russian for the past couple of months, so I decided to work on this for a while. Being a DEA agent, I already spoke Spanish rather fluently, but the more languages you speak, the faster you can climb the ladder at the DEA, not to mention the possibility for more assignments.
    Every day for the rest of the week, I worked on my Russian skills and took long runs around the neighborhood to keep in shape. I knew that once—that is, if —Sonny and I became an item, I would be spending a lot of time with him and hanging around with the crew. But until that happened, I was utterly bored out of my skull all alone in the tiny house with nothing to do.
     
    ***
     
    Finally, Friday rolled around. I went through my usual routine of dressing in my new clothes, complete with a black leather jacket, since it was September and the evenings were turning a little chilly. I caked on the makeup and sprayed my hair until it barely moved. I looked at the clock—it was six thirty. Only half an hour until Sonny would arrive to pick me up for our mystery date. I had given him directions to my house by text early in the day. I was a little nervous, but not the same kind of nervous that a girl feels before a big first date. This was a different kind of nervous. The kind of nervous where you know your life is on the line. Everything was riding on tonight. If the date went well, I could easily be on the way to gaining Sonny’s confidence and trust. If it went wrong, not only could the assignment be jeopardized, but my life could be threatened. I had to do and say all the right things at all the right times. I had to walk a fine line between easy and hard-to-get, between demure and overly confident, between good girl and bad girl.
    A little after seven, I heard the muffled sound of Sonny’s motorcycle pulling into my driveway. I couldn’t decide whether to meet him outside or to let him come to the door. I decided to wait and see what he would do. To my surprise, I heard the engine shut off and then a few seconds later, a knock on the front door.
    I opened the door and saw Sonny standing on the front porch with a big goofy grin on his face. I don’t know what I was expecting, but he didn’t dress any differently than he had the last few times I’d seen him. “Sonny. You’re on time. I’m impressed.”
    “I told ya darlin’, one thing about me is that I’m as dependable as they come. If I say I’m gonna do something, by hell, it’s getting done and done right.”
    “I can appreciate that,” I told him, grabbing my leather jacket and locking the door behind me.
    “This your old man’s house?” he asked.
    “Yep. You like it?”
    “Sure. It’s nice. I got a buddy that lives just down the road. This is a nice neighborhood. You should be safe here.”
    “Oh, so you’re concerned about my safety, huh?” I made a mental note— score one point for team Rockford .
    “Course I am.” He gestured for me to get on his bike. “I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to you. But somehow I have a feeling you can take care of yourself.”
    “Yes, I can,” I told him. “Thank you for noticing. So where are we headed?”
    “You’ll see. Hop on.” He handed me his spare helmet and I secured it to my head. I still hadn’t gotten used to how incredibly dorky I looked with these stupid helmets on my head, but safety first, and all that.
    “Okay. I’ll just have to trust you,” I said.
    “You can definitely trust me. And don’t ever forget that.” He winked at me, grabbed my hands, and encircled them around his waist. “Hold on tight.”
    Sonny backed the motorcycle out of my driveway and turned down West Chestnut Street and then onto Third Street. He followed Third Street all the way down until it spit us out onto Highway 27, the main connecting road in Nicholasville. We continued down 27 for about twenty minutes and then turned right