Oh Jackson, I think it’s about time I start putting the screws to you a little bit. No point in dragging it out.
With a few keystrokes and the click of a mouse, I booted up the tracking software that told me to within a few yards exactly where Jack’s car was parked. I wasn’t sure whether I was more surprised or disappointed when, within seconds, it placed it in the parking lot of a downtown hotel.
Ten minutes later, I’d changed into a professional but sexy dress, shook my hair out into loose waves, and touched up my makeup. I wouldn’t look like I’d been at the hotel for wicked in-room ventures, but I’d fit in fine with the white-collar business class that frequented the bar there. A bar that afforded a view of the lobby, as well as the comings and goings of the hotel’s patrons.
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