Damn it. She took a breath and steeled herself. If Jamie Lee Curtis could rip all the bows off her dress, slick back her hair, anddance for Arnold, Gabby could peel off her sportswear and skinny dip with this fool.
Do it doucement. Do it very slowly.Phil would sometimes say Arnie’s line to her while she was getting ready for bed, usually while she was tripping out of sweatpants and into an old T-shirt. It was a joke.
Primly, even to her own ears, she said, “I have to be at Ladies Orientation, but maybe I could squeeze in some…” How was she going to get these pants off? She might as well try to striptease out of a scuba suit.
Her mind flashed to Markus. He had slept on the couch last night. She shouldn’t even feel guilty about getting naked for G, but she did.
Did he want her to dance?
Maybe just some light swaying in her underwear and bra top. Standing on one foot, she tried to get one shoe off. She hopped on one foot until she lost her balance and had to try again while one of the world’s biggest action stars watched.
“If only I had a shoehorn,” he said, taking in her troubles.
A shoehorn—Gabby didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Good thing she hadn’t gone into stripping. Because she wasn’t pulling a Jamie Lee, she made a joke. “Loss of balance is one of the first signs of aging. I’m middle-aged, you know,” she corrected.
Why had she said that? “Well, thirty-five isn’t quite middle-aged.”
He suppressed a grin. “I’m older than you.”
That’s when it hit her. The Big G was sweet, maybe not all the time, but at least today. And he was sad. It looked like it tookheavy machinery to hold the corners of his mouth up for a simple smile.
Recognition dawned on his face, a little late, considering she was already getting naked. “You’re Lil’ G’s girl, aren’t you?”
“Huh?”
“George’s my dude.” With a sly smile, G said, “That man cannot stop talking about you.”
“Really?” She looked up from putting her socks in her shoes to keep them clean. There’s a reason strippers don’t wear athletic socks.
And she remembered that she was person first, spy second. Really, the entire reason that she’d been successful on her last mission was because she got to know people.
“Are you okay?” she asked. Her compression leggings were just below her belly button and squishing her muffin top out in a way that she’d prefer they didn’t. Luckily, G wasn’t even looking.
At her inquiry into his welfare, he blew out a breath. “I feel like I’m losing on every front. Jasmine is mad, andPower Couple 2isn’t going anywhere. Money is tight.” He sank farther into his personal pool. “Sorry. I’m supposed to be supporting you.”
“Everyone needs support.” Gabby looked down at her shaping underwear with a supportive stomach panel. “I’m not sure if I wore the right underwear for skinny dipping.”
“Are you taking your pants off?” he asked, his gaze deepening into a confused squint.
“No, of course not!” She laughed uncomfortably and pulled her pants back up with a snap. “I thought you asked… never mind. I must have heard you wrong.”
Just then, footsteps approached. A bigger audience—this was not going well for Gabby.
“Gia?”
At the sight of Markus, Gabby’s soul departed her body (in order to survive the intense and overwhelming shame).
He didn’t say “What in the hell are you doing?” but from the look on his face, that’s what he was thinking. He had definitely seen her pulling her pants back up.
“George, my man!” Genesis called. “You wanna join me?”
She was such an idiot. Apparently, Genesis invited everyone to hop in the pool with him. It hadn’t been a sexual thing. It had just been a thing.
“Rain check,” Markus said, “You’re supposed to be leading orientation right now. I came to get you.”
“Really?” G glanced at his dive watch. “I’m not ready. Can you give everyone a welcome? Tell them I’ll be there in a minute.”
“Sure thing, bro.”
