Disclaimer: I do not own the Band of Brothers mini-series or the book, nor do I intend any disrespect to the real men of Easy Company or their families. I only own the original characters.
The story is based on the mini-series and I've done some additional research to try and keep it as historically accurate as possible. However, since this is a fiction there are some interpretations of an changes to actual events to make the story work.
Chapter 1
Jessica POV
New York, September 1943
Sitting in the back of the yellow cab she allowed herself to relax into the worn leather seat cocooning her body. She aimlessly stared past her own reflection, entranced by the nightlife gliding by as rain tapped out a rhythmic song on the roof of the cab, the long rivers running down the window blurring the images speeding past.
Her mind brought to vivid life the muffled sounds coming from the other side of the glass. The patter of rain pelting down on large, black umbrellas, some sheltering workers hastily trying to reach their final destination of the evening while one protected a young couple. The woman tilted her head back and laughed at something her uniformed companion had said, her perfectly curled and pinned raven hair nearly coming undone.
Jessica stretched her face, trying to mimic the woman's smile, the way her eyes wrinkled in the corners in delight. The one small action exhausted her, so she settled for sitting back in her seat and watching the world go by. She had to constantly remind herself that she didn't have to act tonight, didn't have to pretend to laugh at some offish officer's offensive joke or look at a man as if she adored the ground he walked on while calculating all the ways she could kill him. No, tonight she could just be herself.
As the cab neared the centre of the city the streets became more and more crowded. The people outside shifted from workers hurrying home to young women talking and giggling in small groups as they were admired by groups of young men, dressed in all kinds of military uniforms. She knew the woman weren't all as carefree as they seemed, a country at war couldn't ever be truly carefree, but it was all relative. Compared to her, the women, and the young men for that matter, all seemed years younger and shockingly naïve. When those girls looked at the handsome men dressed in their finest all they saw was the potential of a future they could have, be that for later tonight or years from now. All she saw was someone's son, brother, husband, sent to fight and die in a war driven by one man's insanity, his single minded drive for conformity and world domination.
She pulled her eyes away from the crowd, resolutely focusing on the rain drops racing down her window so her mind had something else to focus its energy on. She silently berated herself for allowing her thoughts to take a dark turn. She was after all home after years abroad and on her way to a lovely night on the town with her friends, well, those still alive.
Damnit Jessica, get over yourself and have some goddamn fun tonight.
"You alright miss?" the gruff cabby asked tentatively.
She turned her head so she was looking at the back of his seat, a reassuring smile on the corner of her lips. She caught his eyes in the rear view mirror flicking between the wet road and her face, concern wrinkling their corners.
"It's just been a long time since I've seen New York. A lot has changed."
Not a complete lie, she thought as the man nodded in agreement.
"We're here, hopefully you'll have a good night miss," he spoke as they pulled up outside the bustling club.
The large front door was flanked on either side by a burly looking man wearing a thick black coat over what looked like a cheap black suit. A line of soldiers stretched all along the one wall, disappearing around the corner of the building. A quick glance at their uniforms told her they were green, probably on their way to Europe and most belonged to the Airborne, or Parachute Infantry as they were also known. Here and there a woman dotted the line of soldiers, usually safely tucked underneath the arm of a young man and standing close to the wall so she was shielded from the rain.
"Popular place," she remarked, mostly to herself.
"Sure is, the Mirage is one of the clubs all the boys want to go to before they ship off. Surprisingly it's a real classy joint."
Reaching into her coat pocket she pulled out the money she'd kept aside for the cab ride. "Well, I won't keep you any longer. Drive safe," she greeted the man as she handed him the notes over his shoulder.
Her hand paused on the door handle when he said, "Wait, let me get you your change."
She heard the shuffling of notes and the distinctive clink of coins crashing against one another. "Not necessary. Keep the change."
Before he could think of objecting she opened the door, bracing herself for the rain on her head, but instead she was met with the familiar drum of water hitting canvas. Looking up in surprise she found one of the doorman holding an umbrella over her head, his stern face breaking into a rather charming smile she guessed many patrons never saw.
She mentally chastised herself for being caught off guard, she should have seen him approach the car, but she hid her irritation with a well-rehearsed smile.
"We've been expecting you miss King," he said in a deep baritone voice that perfectly matched the breath of his chest.
She arched one carefully manicured eyebrow, "Oh?"
He chuckled politely as he led her the few short steps to the front door and the protection the awning covering it provided. "Yes, Mr Clark from your party informed us you'd be arriving a bit later. He told us to keep a look out for a beautiful blonde woman arriving alone by cab."
She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, Clark wasn't here to see it anyway.
"Did he now? If I forget, please remind me to give him a good smack," she joked.
He laughed as he held open the door for her. She smiled politely and stepped through the door, well aware of the few dirty looks those waiting in line shot her way.
The cold, wet air that followed her through the door was met with a wall of smoke heavy warm air, notes of a full band and a woman's sultry voice floating past her. The entrance consisted of a large, richly coloured lobby with a long, thickly carpeted hallway with burgundy and gold wallpaper flowing from it into the belly of the building. A few patrons were standing around, talking in small groups of two or three, but most were waiting to drop their coats at the coat check before moving into the main body of the building.
She joined the small group, smiling politely up at the tall soldier that peered over his shoulder when he felt her approach. He was handsome, his striking blue eyes standing in stark contrast to his neatly combined red hair. Even through his uniform she could tell he was muscular and lean, but considering he must have come straight from a few years of intensive physical training this was to be expected.
He stepped aside, indicating she should go in-front of him and his two companions who were still deep in conversation.
"Oh, it's not necessary," she replied with a wave of her hand.
Maybe it was the sound of her voice or the fact that their friend was no longer listening in on their conversation, but other two men turned around to see what all the commotion was about.
The first man was short, with thinning sandy blonde hair and a smile that she guessed always looked a little bit drunk. The third soldier was nearly as tall as the first, but his hair and eyes were dark, he was handsome and judging by the smirk on his face he knew it. All three men were officers with the Airborne and all three were looking at her expectantly.
"Is this one giving you trouble?" the dark haired man joked as he shot his friend a mischievous smirk.
"Only if being painfully polite is the new way to cause a ruckus," she retorted.
A slight blush crept into the redhead's cheeks, only adding to his friends' enjoyment.
The shorter man slapped the redhead on the shoulder, "That's Dick for you. Always so damn proper."
"There are worse things in this world," she said, hoping to avoid a tiff between friends.
The redhead Lieutenant shrugged off his friend's hand and turned to her, resolutely ignoring their good natured laugher at his expense.
"Lieutenant Richard Winters, ma'am. And please excuse these two, we're only friends because we work together," he introduced himself.
Both men stopped laughing, their faces reminding her of a child that has just dropped its ice-cream on the floor. She caught the glimmer in Winters' eyes, the way his lips threatened to betray him with a smirk. The dark haired soldier must have spotted it as well because he stepped closer to her as he said, "Oh, please! Your life would be boring as all hell without us in it and you know it."
She smiled at their little exchange, enjoying their easy companionship and the evident fondness they held for one another.
"Lewis Nixon at your service," he said with a smile that must have gotten him into and out of trouble a thousand times before. "And this is Harry Welsh."
She hesitated for a split second, consciously having to fight her years of experience, "Jessica King. And it's a pleasure to meet all of you."
Between the men's broad shoulders, she glimpsed the coat check girl trying to catch her eye.
"I believe it's your turn," she said, pointing towards the girl waiting for them to deposit their coats.
She could see all three men hesitate, visibly struggling with the idea of going ahead of her.
She supposed this was the normal thing to do, she was the one acting outside the norm. "Okay, calm down. I'll go first. Wouldn't want you three to have heart attacks and deprive the Germans of a chance to meet you," she teased with a lopsided smirk as she pushed past the three men to the counter.
A pair of strong hands settled on her shoulders, making her breath hitch and her muscles stiffen. "Can I help you with your coat?" Winters asked over her shoulder, his deep voice close to her ear sending a shiver running up her spine.
She took a deep breath to consciously relax her muscles, shooting the coat check girl a sheepish grin since she'd been the only one to witness her overreaction.
"Thank you," she answered politely, allowing Winters to take her tan coloured trench coat from her shoulders.
It had been an abnormally mild late summers day, and once the rain had set in and the sun had dipped a chill crept into the air, necessitating some form of a cover up if you were thinking of going outside.
The girl's eyes widened and her hand paused mid-air. Jessica smiled indulgently at the young girl, not sure what had caused her reaction and suddenly worried that she'd suffered some cataclysmic wardrobe malfunction.
"Ummm….ma'am?" the young girl asked softly as she her fingers finally reached for Jessica's coat.
"Yes?"
"Your dress, it's…..well, it's...it's really something. You look beautiful."
Jessica felt a blush creep up her cheeks as she clutched her handbag tighter to stop herself from touching the dress self-consciously.
She'd been told in no uncertain terms by her friends that this club was a very nice place and you were expected to dress to the nines. So she'd decided to wear the one formal dress she'd brought back with her, a prized possession considering the rationing taking place. It was a ruby red dress made from silk. Two delicate straps laced over her shoulders as the material fell into a soft sweetheart neckline before draping around her waist to fall in a red puddle to the floor. A modest slit on her right leg completed the look. She knew very well what an impact this dress could have, she wasn't a fool, she just hadn't had the chance to dress up in quite some time and all the women she'd seen tonight looked like real movie stars in her eyes.
She turned her full lips into a gracious smile. "Thank you very much. You just made my night."
She turned away from the still smiling girl to find her three new acquaintances openly staring at her.
"You'd swear you three have never seen a woman in a dress before."
Harry blinked and she saw him blush at being caught out, "I speak for all of us when I say, they usually don't look like that."
Leaning forward a fraction she dropped her voice, "Well now Harry Welsh. If you weren't a spoken for man I'd say you were flirting with me."
Harry looked taken aback for a second and she smiled devilishly at him, briefly shooting Winters and Nixon a wink.
"How did you know?"
She shrugged, tossing her long blonde curls over her shoulder, "You can spot a man in love a mile away. She's a lucky lady."
"Her name's Kitty," Harry offered, his face beaming with pride.
"No," Nixon interjected, "don't get him started on Kitty. We'll stay here in the lobby the whole damn night!"
Winters shot Nixon a disapproving look which the latter shrugged off, clearly used to it by now.
"Sorry Harry, you'll have to tell me another time when Nixon isn't within earshot."
"You got yourself a deal."
During their exchange Winters had handed the girl behind the counter his coat and his two friends followed quickly when they saw him impatiently waiting for them.
As their little group made their way down the hall the sounds of laughter, animated talking and music grew louder. She briefly glanced over at Winters only to find him shyly stealing a look at her.
She smiled up at him, her eyebrow quirking up in a silent question.
He visibly swallowed and she thought she heard him clear his throat before he asked, "I assume you have someone waiting for you inside?"
"A few someone's actually. I'm here with a few friends and the one insisted we visit the club. It's the hottest spot in town," she said very dramatically, doing her best to channel Clark.
He frowned and for a moment it seemed like he was going to ask her something else when they rounded a slight corner and came face to face with a large rectangular ballroom filled to capacity with men in uniform and women in their finest.
The ceilings were high with gold and white inlays in various intricate patterns. Running down from this the dark wood panelled walls were draped in ruby reds, royal blue and emerald green tapestries. A large stage dominated the furthest wall, a band playing a slow number she didn't recognise as a stunning brunette crooned along. The large, wooden dance floor was filled with couples slowly swaying to the music, some of them already holding onto each other like their world depended on the other person. Two bars occupied the other two walls, feeding the steady stream of customers looking to fill their glasses. Two dozen round tables able to seat eight people comfortably and twelve at a squeeze dotted the dark carpet while six intimate booths covered in plush brown leather were scattered against the wall in the spaces available between the bar and the start of the stage.
As she scanned the faces for one she knew Nixon and Harry continued down the five stairs which would take them from the hallway to the ballroom.
"You don't have to wait for me. I'll find them soon enough," she said to Winters, all too aware that he was patiently waiting at her side.
She heard him start to speak and turned to look up at him when her view was obstructed by a broad, dark blue chest a second before a pair of strong arms enveloped her in a bear hug.
"Heavens doll! We were starting to get worried. What a way to make a grand entrance!" she heard from somewhere above her head.
Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the familiar scent of James Clark, patiently waiting for him to loosen his grip on her.
As if reading her mind his arms fell away and his beaming face came into view. Clark was tall with broad shoulders and a very muscular build. She suspected in another life he would have excelled at football or some other contact sport. His dusty brown hair had a stubborn curl even the shortest of military cuts couldn't quite get rid of and his cheeky smile and glint to his eyes screamed mischief.
"Damn doll, you look bloody fantastic!"
"I'm going to ignore the fact that you sound that surprised," she retorted with a wink, "You clean up well too."
Winters cleared his throat behind Clark's back and she scowled up at her smirking friend.
Bodily moving Clark to one side she introduced the two men, "Captain James Clark, this is Lieutenant Richard Winters."
Winters was about to salute when Clark waved him off, "No need for that. So, how do you two know each other?"
"Oh, we just met on the way in," Winters replied, his eyes quickly jumping to her face as if he was trying to decipher something.
"Really?" Clark responded, the sly look on his face making her groan internally.
Deciding to steer the conversation away from wherever Clark was heading she said, "Clark is one of the friends I'm meeting. Richard is with the Airborne."
Winters raised a quizzical eyebrow and she realised not many women would have known what branch of the military he belonged to just by looking at his uniform. Shrugging, she answered his unasked question, "I work in the military so I'm familiar with the different branches."
The handsome lieutenant's eyebrows shot up even as he tried to control the rest of his features. "You two work together?" he asked, eyeing Clark's various medals and ribbons.
"We work in the same unit," she quickly replied, hoping the true, if not completely accurate answer would satisfy Winters.
Clark feigned a serious expression, frowning deeply and dramatically pursing his lips, as he nodded along with her answer.
"I see. I take it you've all been abroad then?" Winters asked, quickly glancing between the two of them.
Clark replied before she even had the chance to start forming her response, "Yip. We just got back for a short leave actually. Now, our other friends are waiting and we desperately need Jess here to settle an argument for us, so I'm going to have to steal her away."
Winters' face fell for a split second before he composed himself. "Oh, of course," he said to Clark before turning his full attention to her, "It was nice to meet you Jessica. Maybe we'll run into each other again."
She smiled sweetly up at him as she took a step towards him, closing the gap between them. Standing on her tippy toes she placed one hand onto his upper-arm and pressed a soft kiss onto his cheek.
"Be safe Richard," she whispered, her lips an inch away from the delicate skin of his ear.
She felt his muscles tense under her touch but before he could say or do anything she stepped away from him. In one fluid movement she took Clark's arm and drifted down the stairs towards their table.
She resisted the urge to turn around to see if he was following her with his eyes, but she couldn't ignore the small pang of regret that bit at her stomach at his absence.
Winters POV
He watched her walk away, his body rooted to the spot as his brain tried to play catch-up with the events of the last few minutes.
God, has it only been minutes, he thought.
His heart pounded in his ears and his skin burned where her hand and lips had rested a second earlier. He wasn't one to get flustered, stoic was how most would describe him, but in the few moments he'd had with Jessica she'd definitely done just that.
Taking a deep breath, he pulled his eyes away from her retreating form just as she reached her table of friends. To his embarrassment he found Nixon staring at him from the foot of the stairs, a smug smirk on his face and a triumphant drink in his hand. Nixon always took far too much pleasure in those rare moments when he was caught off guard.
He walked down the stairs and as he reached Nixon he said, "Not a word."
His friend's lips moved as if he was going to say something anyway, but the warning look he shot him quickly changed his mind.
"C'mon, Welshie's got a table over there," his friends said with a too-hearty slap to his shoulder.
He secretly stole another glance in the direction she'd gone, but he couldn't spot her through the press of bodies. He'd seen beautiful woman before, but there was something so enigmatic about Jessica that he knew he'd always remember her even if they never met again. She was stunning, golden blonde hair and eyes such a light blue they almost seemed translucent. She was almost a full head shorter than him even though he assumed she was wearing heels. She moved so elegantly and confidently it felt like every step and breath were carefully thought out and perfectly controlled.
He shook his head, hoping it would banish his thoughts of her to the back of his mind.
As he reached the table Welsh had commandeered he noticed four other officers from Dog and Fox Company took up half of the space, while Harry seemed to be guarding their open chairs with his life.
"Well, so glad you could join us," Harry remarked dryly.
"Don't be so hard on the man Welshie. Can't you see he's in love?" Nixon replied as he nudged him in the ribs.
He scowled at his friend, in-love was a bit of a stretch, but both men ignored the look, choosing instead to laugh at his discomfort and raise their glasses.
"To Jessica King, for making Richard 'I-can-never-be-swayed' Winters flinch. God bless," Harry announced with a flourish.
"Hear-hear," Nixon cheered as they clinked their glasses together and downed the amber content.
With an exasperated sigh he took his empty seat, "Are you two done?"
"For now," Nixon retorted with a smile he'd learned to dread.
Pointing to the glass of water in-front of him, Harry asked, "We're deploying to Europe and you're still not drinking huh?"
"I don't see how being drunk or hungover will help me fight the Germans. Besides, someone has to keep you two out of trouble because heaven knows you have a knack for finding it."
Both men looked offended for all of two seconds before they shrugged as if to say 'fair enough'.
"You know," Nixon started, leaning forward an inch so only they could hear him, "if you fight 'em drunk you'll probably be able to deal with Sobel better."
Sobel, their CO who he'd hoped would prove as effective in combat a he'd been relentless during their basic training. Unfortunately, it was becoming more and more obvious to everyone that the man didn't have what it took to lead men into combat, not if you were hoping to get them out alive.
Taking a big drink of his water, and for a split second wishing it was something stronger, he replied, "We just have to try and protect the men from him as much as possible."
The two officers nodded, there wasn't anything more to say on the matter, for now at least.
Arlene POV
Sitting back, she watched the animated debate unfold between John and Alex. They'd started off discussing the merits of the various military units, specifically focusing on the new paratroopers which seemed to take up most of the space inside the ballroom. This however quickly descended into a heated debate about which one of their original units was the best. She'd heard the argument dozens of times before, but somehow the men always seemed to find new and creative way to insult one another while simultaneously praising themselves. It was an art really.
A soft hand came to rest on the back of her neck, a short squeeze acting as a silent greeting, before her best friend came into view, taking the open seat on her right.
Jessica was wearing the red dress she'd chosen for her months earlier when they were working together in occupied France. At the time it was meant to grab the attention of a very specific German officer, now it still grabbed the attention of most of the partygoers.
Jessica raised an eyebrow at the full champagne glass sitting pretty on the table in-front of her. She gave the smallest of nods to answer her question.
Briefly glancing at the arguing men Jessica rolled her eyes, the hint of a smile on the corner of her lips, before turning in her chair so she was facing her. "So glad you took my excellent advice and decided to wear the emerald dress."
"Did I have a choice?"
"Of course you did. But since I was right the correct choice was to wear the dress I'd suggested," Jessica responded as confidently as ever.
She took a sip of her champagne, the bubbles tickling her tongue before the cool liquid slid down her throat, as her lips curved into a smile around the thin glass.
She'd wanted to wear a simple black dress, but Jessica had threatened to throw the offending garment out the window into the streets below if she'd dared and she knew better than to call her bluff. So instead she'd gone with her friend's suggestion of the silk, emerald green tea length dress with delicate black lace covering her shoulders and forming a tight band around her cinched in waist.
Having conceded defeat on the dress front she'd decided to dramatically curl her thick, chocolate brown hair and pin it up in the height of fashion. She completed the look with a dramatic lick of eye make-up and a blood red lip.
If you're going to lose, do so spectacularly, she'd thought as she'd dressed.
Remembering why her friend was late to the party in the first place she eased back into the chair and asked, "How was the meeting?"
Jessica took a long sip of her champagne before replying, "Sad."
"That's to be expected. Having to explain to a young widow how her husband died shouldn't be easy."
"No, no it shouldn't. She's pregnant. It's a boy."
The two friends held each other's gaze for a few heartbeats. Jessica was the first to look away, her attention drifting to the three men sharing their table. Their little family, or what was left of it after years of fighting.
"It wasn't your fault Jessica. You did everything you could to get him out alive. You were cut-off behind enemy lines and he was badly injured. Benjie wouldn't want you to blame yourself."
She glimpsed Jessica's lips twitch, whether into a grimace or a smirk she couldn't tell from this angle.
Downing her glass but still staring at the men Jessica replied, "The replacements are meeting us in England correct?"
"Yes. While you were away we narrowed down the list from eight to five. The names were sent to the Unit and they'll make all the arrangements from there."
Jessica nodded, her attention far off on something she couldn't see.
She motioned to the waiter floating nearby that they needed another bottle of champagne and the young man happily darted towards the bar.
Just as she turned back to Jessica she found her friend studying her closely, the dark cloud that had temporarily settled over her light features now replaced by something far more determined. She sighed. She had an inclination as to what Jessica was thinking and she knew better than anyone that when her eyes took on that steely glint, trouble was soon to follow.
"No. Whatever you're thinking, the answer is no."
Jessica's lips parted into a grin and her stomach sank.
Here we go.
Just as she was about to launch a vehement objection to whatever her friend had in mind the waiter appeared out of thin air with a chilled bottle of champagne at the ready.
Jessica flashed him a dazzling smile and she was sure the man's head was still spinning when he turned to fill her empty glass.
"Thank you," she said to the man and smiled indulgently as he stammered out something resembling an acceptance.
Raucous laughter from the other side of the table made her turn away from the frazzled waiter and she raised a calculated eyebrow at her friends.
The three men quietened down, the act of surpassing their laughter making their chests bounce around underneath the thick uniform material.
"What?" Alex asked, his large oval eyes appearing even bigger as he feigned innocence.
"When the three of you laugh like that. Nothing goods come from it."
John, who at 20 years was the youngest of their group, couldn't hide his smirk. "Oh, c'mon Arlene baby. You gotta live a little."
"You know what? Don't tell me what you're planning. If I don't know, I can't be implicated. Just don't get arrested."
"When did we ever get arrested?" Clark exclaimed.
"London, one and a half years ago. Give or take a few days."
The three men smiled sheepishly and she rolled her eyes. Whatever mischief they were planning she wasn't going to be able to talk them out of it, so why even bother.
Turning back to Jessica she found her friend sipping delicately from her glass, her eyes scanning the room as if she was looking from someone in particular.
"You know, you really can be frightening when you want to be," Jessica said, her eyes still expertly scanning the faces around them.
"Really? Then why don't you ever listen to me?"
Her friend's lips curled into a smirk and she tore her eyes away from the crowd, "Because I am immune to your charms and your threats."
"Unfortunately," she retorted flatly, hiding her own smile behind her glass.
She was almost certain that if she and Jessica had met under different circumstances they would have become friendly acquaintances at best. In many ways their personalities were exact opposites. She was more serious and analytical, seeing risks everywhere and rarely acting without weighing up all the options and their consequences. Jessica often acted on instinct alone and when they'd just met she'd assumed she was reckless. Of course in time she'd learned to trust her friend's instincts as much as she trusted her own careful calculations.
Jessica appeared, for lack of better word, 'lighter' than she did, always quick with a smile and an inherent openness with new people that gained her many friends. She knew that bubbliness, perceived openness was simply her way of protecting herself. Very few people saw the real woman, the one that had seen and done terrible things, the one that never slept more than a handful of hours before the nightmares woke her screaming.
On the flipside she kept herself at a distance from everyone she didn't have to be close to, and often she came across as standoffish. Jessica and the men usually had to coerce her into talking to or dancing with new people, and as much as she hated to admit it she was usually glad they had afterwards.
Jessica snapped her fingers in-front of her face, saying, "Hello. Anyone home?"
She playfully swatted her hand away. Deciding her best defence was a good offence she asked, "Who were you looking for earlier?"
Jessica shrugged one shoulder, "No one really."
Leaning across the table Clark interjected, "She met an Officer on the way in."
"Off course she did," she added, earning her a scowl from Jessica.
Clark grinned, happy to share this titbit of news with the table. "He was quite the handsome fellow and seemed to be interested in our girl. He looked a bit sad when I pulled her away. I almost felt bad."
Alex grunted. "Feel bad? That'll be the day."
Clark tried to scowl but ended up looking rather proud and the men quickly started up another energetic conversation.
She turned her attention back to Jessica and asked, "So? Do we like him?"
"He seems nice enough and he is handsome, but that is not important right now."
"Why not?" she asked, dreading the answer.
"Because tonight we are focusing on your love life. Or lack thereof rather," Jessica responded.
She opened her mouth to argue but snapped it shut just as quickly. She recognised the glint in her friend's eyes and the way her jaw was set. She wasn't going to give up come hell or high water.
"So glad you decided to see sense. Now, stop trying to distract me and tell me what you think about that handsome paratrooper at four o-clock who cannot stop looking at you."
She rolled her eyes, trying to seem nonchalant, but truth be told she'd noticed the soldier in question the moment she'd walked in with her friends.
Casually tucking a stray strand of hair behind one ear she used this as an excuse to glance in the man's direction.
He was standing next to the bar with a group of young paratroopers in their dress green uniforms. His dark brown hair was fashionably slicked back, perfectly accentuating his sharp features just like his uniform showed off his lean frame. He laughed at something another man said, full lips curling away from white teeth, and his wild eyes darted to meet hers.
For a split second she registered surprise on his face, but this was quickly replaced by a smug smirk that made her blood boil in more ways than one.
Casually looking back to her friend she suppressed a groan when she was met with Jessica's triumphant grin.
Rearranging her features to look deathly serious Jessica said, "I think some introductions are in order, don't you?"
"He's with his friends Jess, and I'm with mine. Don't make a fuss."
Jessica leaned forward and put a hand on her knee, "Arlene, I love you. So trust me when I say you deserve to spend one night in the company of a handsome man you'll never see again. You need some fun. We'll all still be here in the morning."
"What about you and the Officer?"
Jessica sat back in her chair, "He'll make some girl very happy. I'm not her."
She was about to say something when Jessica's body language changed and a striking smile curled back her lips.
"Hello ma'am," a deep voice that sounded like whiskey and gravel spoke behind her shoulder, "mind if we join you?"
"Please do," Jessica replied, quickly shooting her a wink.
XXXXXXX
I'm back! Hope you all enjoyed the first chapter and you're as excited as I am for the (hopefully) wild ride ahead.
Have a stellar weekend and an amazing week. See you all soon.