Jade looks utterly stunning despite coming straight off her morning prep shift in the clubhouse bar.
She’s wearing red leather pants that hug every curve, a low-cut white crop top that shows off her flat, pierced stomach, and a stack of silver bangles that clink against her wrists every time she moves.
Her red hair is styled in loose, beachy waves, her eyes are lined perfectly, and her lips are a scarlet red. In her hands, she carries two coffees in a cardboard tray.
"If it isn't the grease monkey herself," Jade calls out, her sharp green eyes sweeping over my bay before locking onto mine with a bright, familiar warmth. “Looking spiffy in those overalls, Zara.”
"Jade!" I say, peeling off my black nitrile gloves, throwing them into the trash. “To what do we owe the pleasure?"
I’m on
