Chapter 11
Jia
“I loveany kind of fruit in cake,” I told Jack.
He smiled and shook his head. “Not me. I just like blueberries. I loathe raspberries, because of the seeds. I don’t like anything that gets stuck in my teeth.” Jack replied.
“I like to eat.” Frankie intoned with a smirk and rubbed his belly.
I rolled my eyes at him. He was acting like he had an actual belly, like a pot belly. But he rubbed his hand over a six pack.
Jack just laughed when he saw my face.
“Well if you can look like that and eat cake then there’s no complaint. I’m an old man, I have to watch myself.”
“You don’t look that old to me.” I smiled.
“You’re very sweet. I’ll write that in my memoirs.”
I giggled. “You have memoirs?”
“Yes, when you live as many lives as mine you have to document something. It would be a crime not to.”
“Xander talks about his missions. It sounds really dangerous.”
“Yes, well mine were roughly the same. No walk in the park, and no tea party. You live to tell the tale and you know you’ve lived.”
“Sounds like my every day,” Frankie scuffed as if it was nothing.
Jack paused and cut him a crude glance. “I’m sorry, have you been captured by Vietnamese resistants and held captive in a coffin filled with shards of broken glass while they throw fire ants all over you to try and get you to talk?”
My lips parted, Frankie just stared.
“No, fuck no, bro. Shit, that happened to you?” Frankie looked him over.
Jack nodded. “Yeah, but that wasn’t the worst thing. I don’t talk about the worst things.”
And I took that to mean we shouldn’t ask.
“That’s horrible. I can’t believe people would be so cruel. Evil.” Why was I even saying that? Pa would do that. It was just the sort of thing Pa would do. He’d love the fire ants idea to no end.
“It happens Princess.”
He passed me the cupcake holders to choose which I wanted.
I took the pink ones and gave my mixture another good mix.
“So, this is what you do now?” Frankie asked. “Stay home and bake cookies? Doesn’t seem to suit you.”
“No, I work as a consultant for national security. I don’t get a lot of work but when I do it’s sufficient.”
“Sufficient? I hope you mean that in a monetary way.”
“I do. It pays well.”
“Six figures?”
I glared at Frankie. “Frankie that’s so rude. You can’t ask him that.”
