The Party (Part 4)

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Oooohhh would you look at that! Our saga continues! If you don't know what saga go back to the beginning of this journey and read up, this saga waits for no reader!

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"That's what your wearing?"

Carter paused in the process of climbing into the back of the surveillance van to shoot Mason a glare. He didn't cower beneath it but he never had before.

"I'm just saying, you're going to a college party. Aren't you supposed to look more... If this is even possible, attractive?"

"Mason," Carter said, calmly.

He leaned back in his chair, fingers locked together and resting on his stomach.

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

Mason leaned forward. "No. And here's why. I'm as much a part of this undercover op as you, I want to see it succeed. Tonight you are supposed to be seducing a man."

"Correction. Tonight I am supposed to be getting closer to a college boy. There will be no seducing. Hence my choice of attire. It is cute without looking like I'm trying too hard."

"I'm curious how you know how to create that combo. Aren't you fashion deficient?"

Carter stared Mason down, not planning to admit that she'd consulted two fellow female agents to get help on finding the right balance. There was no need to add fuel to the fire Mason always had ready to burn her with.

"Are you done questioning my outfit choice and ready to go to this party?"

"Not at all-"

"Mason, I will stab you with a pen if you make one more comment about my outfit."

For a second, Mason looked like he was weighing the risk of Carter taking some sort of action against him and the want to voice his opinion. Eventually, self-preservation won out. He climbed into the front of the van and started it.

"I still think your outfit is all wrong," he called back.

"I still don't care."

Though she said this, as they drove, she reexamined her outfit choice. It was a pair of jeans that showed off her legs paired with a shirt that sat on her shoulders in a way that revealed her collarbones when she shifted. With the two female agents, they had worked for an attire that would make him attracted to her but not so much that she couldn't build a strong connection.

She didn't care how much experience Mason might have in looking at girls, she trusted experienced agents who knew how to strike the right balance.

When Mason pulled up to the curb a block from the house where the party was, Carter removed the glasses with the camera embedded in them from their case and slipped them on.

With the reflection of one of the screens, she checked her appearance. For her makeup this time she'd done more than before so that her skin looked flawless, her lips tinted with color, and her eyes enhanced. Growing up without a mother to teach her how to do these kinds of things, she'd never imagined she'd learn them because of the FBI.

As Mason shifted to the back, Carter found her earpiece and put it in. Mason held out a necklace to her.

"Your mic," he said.

Carter took it. When she tried to clasp it around her neck, her loose hair got in the way.

"You're helpless," Mason said. "Hold your hair up."

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