By Lynn Shurr
Cover art by Trisha FitzGerald
Adrienne and Pete—is their love real or are they the victims of an old traitor’s love potion? Are they truly attracted to each other or have they been cursed to marry and be blessed with seven children? Only time will tell as they fulfill a prophecy during their tempestuous courtship and marriage.
Adrienne put the finishing touches on her cheap but high-class hooker look by six-thirty Saturday night. She checked the details in the mirror fastened to the back of her bathroom door. Bless the leather store in the mall as the clerk had blessed Miss Stone when she handed over her credit card. Her outfit, not all leather, but mostly, started with the knee-high boots possessing four-inch, chunky heels. She’d considered stilettos, but figured the heavy soles would be better for kicking or running if necessary. Pete would have to live with the fact that she would be inches taller than him
Then came a bare space up her thighs to the leather mini-skirt. It barely covered her ass and her assets as it hung low on her hip bones. Underneath, she wore a black thong. She was not sure how far the disguise had to go, but remembered reading about infiltrators sent into Nazi France with real French underwear in case they were caught and interrogated.
In her navel, she placed a clip-on ring. She hadn’t been aware that navel rings came as clip-ons until she stood at the Piercing Place debating options for deep cover operations. The clerk noticed Adrienne’s hesitation and suggested the fake. In gratitude, she purchased a temporary tattoo as well, a black butterfly that fluttered below her collar bone and flew inches above a red spandex top that girdled her breasts and boasted triangular cutouts on either side.
Adrienne peered closely at herself. Her pregnancy nipples were enormous and showed very clearly under the spandex as if shouting out this woman wore no bra. She quickly threw on the black leather jacket glittering with studs. The air would be chilly near the water in January and only make nipple matters worse. Surely, she looked cheap enough.
Her makeup provided the finishing touch with a swath of deep blue eye shadow over each lid, heavily penciled brows, lashes caked with mascara, densely blushed cheeks, and scarlet lipstick stroked on and outlined slightly above her rather narrow lips. She had pulled her long, straight hair to the top of her head, knotted it, and let the rest cascade down her back. A filigreed gold-colored clip decorated the base of the knot and matched dangling earrings also purchased at the Piercing Place. With luck, they wouldn’t turn her ears green.
She added the final detail, a wad of bubble gum. She never chewed gum, having been lectured since childhood on its tooth destroying properties and the cow-like resemblance it gave a person. Now, she began softening the pink block in her mouth. She wanted to try a few bubbles before Pete came. She made a little pocket in the gum with her tongue and blew into it. Pop! The doorbell rang as she started on another bubble. Trying to practice a long-legged, sexy stride, she clomped to the door.
Pop! Pete’s eyes widened. “A little too heavy on the makeup for my tastes, but Stoney, you are hot. I would definitely shove one-hundred bucks down your cleavage to spend an hour in your company. If Jon ever fires you, I know a place in New Orleans would take you in a minute. Mon Dieu, Crazy Pierre would rather stay in tonight!”
Adrienne pushed the gum into a corner of her mouth, making a great show out of using her tongue to do so. “We’re a little late. Let’s go.”
She led the way to Pete’s old truck with its fine patina of rust and let him lift her up into the seat as he had done once before after their night on the houseboat. His hands moved over her breasts beneath the jacket as he released her, and he laid his unshaven face on her thigh for a moment. She ran her fingers through his hair down to the ponytail. He looked up at her with his great dark eyes. “I’m not a liar, Stoney.”
She didn’t reply, merely formed another bubble and let it pop.
He turned away and made a request. “Stoney, give me a big ole kick in the rear with those boots.” She obliged him.
“Thanks, the pain will help me concentrate on what I have to do tonight instead of what I want to do.” He got into the driver’s seat and headed into the night.