Sister's Revenge: Action Adventure Assassin Pulp Thriller Book #1 (Michelle Angelique Avenging Angel Assassin) by Lori Jean Grace, S. Jay Jackson Page B

golden quality hoochie they wish they could get up in.”
    “Michelle, you make me feel confident,” Deja said. “Let’s make a deal: we don’t waste any time on no deadbeats, wangsters, or creeps. Tonight, it’s all about quality.”
    “Damn skippy!” Nikky said, when as if on cue a Jheri-curled man walked up, flashing his fake diamond-and-gold grill. She put one up hand in a stop-right-there motion. “Don’t even think about it,” she said. “We’re not interested.”
    “Don’t be like that, ma.”
    He set his drink on their table, and Nikky turned to him, straight-on, so there’d be no mistaking her meaning.
    “Did I say you could put your drink down? Pick up that glass of Mad Dog you brought from home and get your cheap juice-dripping skank self away from this table. Get to stepping.” She gave him a hit-the-road-Jack hand movement, head and neck swerving as she spoke, then she turned to Michelle and Deja. “Cheap fuck didn’t even offer to buy us a drink before he tried to sit his skeezy self down. Think again!”
    “You got that shit right,” Michelle and Deja said at the same time, and all three women busted up laughing.
    Mr. Gold Tooth tried to play off the diss, mumbling, “Stupid bitches. They loss.” He walked away as quickly as his cool stroll would let him.
    “Hey, take a look at that mocha chocolatte over there,” Michelle said, nodding toward a man. He sat alone, fine in a pair of new Stacy Adams brown-and-tan wingtips and dark chocolate slacks, flawless light skin set off by a dark green silk shirt and a fresh fade.
    Nikky glanced in his direction. “Yeah, he’s all right,” she said with a knowing smile and an appraising arched eyebrow. “He might do in a pinch. What do you think? Up to your standards?” she asked Michelle, just as a waitress walked up to their table and placed down a round of drinks.
    “These are from the gentleman over there.” She nodded over toward the man they were discussing.
    “Hey, you go, girl,” Deja said. “First night out and already you got them paying to get with you.”
    Michelle and Nikky turned to lift their glasses in a toast of thanks, and Michelle noticed Deja was all smiles but didn’t seem in the game. She’s just not warmed up yet, that’s all .
    The man caught eyes with Michelle and nodded back.
    “If he’s as good with the moves as he is fine,” Nikky said, “then you’re all set for tonight.”
    “Yeah,” Michelle agreed. “I’m going to find out if he can move on the floor.” She didn’t believe in playing hard to get, nor in lots of other games people played. If she liked him, good: if not, adiós, and on to the next guy. Tonight, she wanted to dance, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to wait around for some man to come ask her.
    She slid off her stool and approached the man, who pointed to himself, with eyebrows raised in a “Me?” expression. Michelle nodded, and he stood, strolling over to meet her halfway, where he stuck out his hand.
    “Hi, I’m Daryl,” he said with a genuine grin that touched his eyes.
    “Hey, Daryl, I’m Michelle, and I’d like to dance. You do dance, don’t you?”
    “I love to dance. Shall we?” He extended his arm toward the dance floor.
    The party went on for several more hours and during that time, Michelle and Daryl connected on and off the dance floor. Nikky met Omar and brought him and his friend, Speed, over to the table, and the six of them danced, old-school, having fun with funky moves like the Snake, the Cabbage Patch, and the Running Man. Together, they helped DJ Beatz kick it up.
    Michelle wanted a little one on one with Daryl, but Deja didn’t seem right.
    She sat down with her friend. “Hey, what’s up with you? Looks like Nikky’s good to go with Omar, and I’m ready to take Daryl home to see if he has bedroom moves to match his dancing. How about you? You going with Speed? He’s really fine, and has some good moves on the floor, too.”
    “No. I need to