She pulled down her shirt collar to expose her tattoos.
"Good. Show them off. I want my parents to be shocked. Just act crazy and trashy. You know the drill. You’ve worked outside of Les DesChamps long enough. Just channel your inner tramp. Oh and," he said, pulling out a ring with the biggest diamond Allie had ever seen, "don't forget to wear this."
"Sure thing," she said, trying not to let him see the desire on her face—for him or the ring, she wasn't sure. "I want all the money cleared in my account first, though."
"I'm transferring it right now," Carter said, whipping out his phone.
Allie received a text that a transfer was pending to her account.
"Text me when you're going to come pick me up," Carter said.
"Carter!" Stacy squealed as she saw him.
"Bye, have to go," he said and ran out the door.
"I missed him. What was he here for?" Stacy demanded.
Allie shook her head. "He just had a job for me to do for him over Thanksgiving."
"What job?" Stacy asked.
"Nothing. Something dumb. But he'll pay me enough to pay for the rest of my degree."
"You aren't sleeping with him?"
"Absolutely not," Allie replied.
"Good," Stacy said. "Because Carter Holbrook is mine."
After a relatively quiet night—many of her patrons were already on leave for Thanksgiving—Allie cleaned up the bar, dropped Stacy off at the apartment, and quickly packed her bag.
Carter wanted trashy? She could do trashy.
She looked through her selection of worn black and grey clothes. She chose the black jeans with large holes, worn black tights, cropped shorts, and the black combat boots she always wore. Several black and grey T-shirts with dirty language also came out of the drawer. She threw all of it in a crusty duffel bag, packed some things for Margot in a box, and put the little dog in her carrier. She dumped everything in the trunk of her car, minus the dog and her laptop case, which went in the back seat, and drove over to pick up Carter.
He was in his tan Service B uniform, waiting for her outside of his barracks.
"Ready to go?" he asked cheerfully, settling down into the car seat. "I can drive if you want."
"No," Allie said. "I scrimped and saved for this car."
"It's a nice car," Carter said.
"I needed something to qualify for a rideshare," Allie told him. "I worked hard to buy this car. All cash. I don't do debt. No one drives this car except me."
"But you’ve been up all night!" Carter protested.
"I'm up every night," she replied, slipping on her sunglasses.
"When do you sleep?"
"In the mornings, sometimes. I run on caffeine." She pulled into a coffee shop drive-through.
Carter looked concerned. "Sleep is important."
"So is money. I have to work for a living. You want anything?" she asked him.
"Oh, I'm paying," he said, pulling out a credit card.
