They ate the food Morris brought the night before, then he let JoJo try on the clothes.
The denim skirt came covering her knees, but the jacket was oversized. JoJo had to roll up the sleeves to show her hands.
"Can you do something about your hair?" Morris looking at her light blonde hair, blooming like a lion's mane after sleep.
"You took my pin when you did that handcuff thing."
Morris patted down his clothes, forgotten where he put it.
"Well, we need a hat. This hair is going to glow like a lighthouse." Morris regretted not getting one last night. "Meanwhile..."
He tore off a strip from the bed sheet, tied her hair into a ponytail.
"It looks awful!" JoJo complained looking into a mirror.
"If you prefer getting your hair caught in a gun fight."
JoJo untied the knot, reset the ponytail so it hung down the side, and tied the strip into a more presentable bow. She turned and looked at Morris.
"Maybe we can trade craft some day." the big man amused.
"Are we going to see my father?"
"Yes." Morris showed her the piece of paper.
"Petrograd?" she read.
"Do you know what it means?"
"It's the old name of St. Petersburg."
"Yes." Morris amused by the little girl again.
"It was changed to Leningrad to honor our Soviet Leader Valdimir Lenin, and then back to St. Petersburg at the end of the Soviet Union era." JoJo read like a text book.
"Your father will be pleased knowing you do well in class."
"That's all he cares." JoJo said sadly, turned to the mirror again and studied her new image. "I look like a prostatot!"
"A what?"
"Prostatot. Preteen girls that dresses like prostitutes."
"They taught you that in school too?"
"History books."
"Your father will be very pleased indeed!" Morris grunted.
YOU ARE READING
Dance Moms Bodyguard (8) JoJo and Talon
ActionAgent Morris lives with a haunted past, but his life soon changed when he took on the task to deliver a young kidnapped victim.
