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Onika

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"Girl, are you crazy? You know we can't have lunch in your restaurant together. Things don't work that way," Megan argues.

"Stop it. You're one of my oldest friends--"

"And I'm imfamous, which I earned all by myself, thank you very much."

I think about the note that told me not to leave, and weigh it against the fact that I need more information if I'm going to win my battle to keep my soul intact during this bargain with Rihanna. I've already come to terms with the fact that I've lost control of my body. 

"But I would really love to catch up," I say, and Megan picks up on my meaning.

"Yeah, I know. I miss being as close as we used to be. Remember how much fun we had that time we celebrated my bachelors? We need to do that again real soon. After . . . all this. Then we can catch up like old times. Still miss those days. When three o'clock meant getting out of school instead of waking up to start working."

Her change of subject throws me for a moment, but then I realize she's speaking in code, like she's also worried someone's listening in to our phone calls.

I swear, I wouldn't put it past her to have my phone tapped. 

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I miss those times too. We're due to catch up."

"We'll get to one of those days."

"See you around, Meg." 

"Same goes, Nicki."

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I sneak out the back door of my own building to meet the uber driver I asked to pick me up at an address a half block away. It's 2:45, which means I'll make it to the location Megan alluded to by three. I'm new to this cloak-and-dagger stuff, so I hope like hell I got it right.

When we pull up to the run-down restaurant where you have to order at the counter, I hop out of the car. Megan's sporty red Lexus is nowhere in sight. Maybe I'm early?

I push open the restaurant door and look around, but she's not here. I take a booth in the back, slightly out of sight, but if I lean far enough to the right, I can see who walks in the door.

Megan's not known for her punctuality, (outside of work neither am I) but this time, I was sure she'd be prompt. Unless I misread this whole cloak-and-dagger code-word crap.

Luckily, two minutes later, she rushes in the door. "So sorry, babes. Got stuck in traffic."

"Really? Because that's the excuse every time, and there was hardly any on my way here."

Megan rolls her eyes. "Glad you could be so lucky--and that you know me well enough to figure out my code."

I lean forward on the table. "Do you really think she's tapping my phone?" There's no question as to which she I'm referring to.

Megan mirrors my movemnt. "Nic, she's tapping your ass, ain't she?"

My butt cheeks clench, think of what I removed earlier, when a text from an unknown number came through that only included three words: Take it out.

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