“Yes, that’s fine. Whatever you think is best. Listen, Jorja just walked in. I need to go.” She winks at me. “We will be up to see you this weekend. Love you too, daddy.”
She hangs up, shakes her head, and says, “I love him, but ….”
“I admire your ability to balance family and business.”
“Thanks. It’s not easy.” She opens her laptop and gets right down to business. “I want you to begin working on the article for the contest immediately while your emotions are still fresh and raw. Your story last night of how you felt having witnessed the rescue was very moving. Rather than an analytical article, I want you to write a testimonial type piece based on your feelings.” She types while she talks. “I want to come at this on a different level. I want to put the emphasis on the ‘everyday’ part of the phrase. Everyday meaning the men and women we know and love personally, not acquaintances in our communities. Not the collective group. Not the rescue team, but the husband/partner who is a part of the team.”
“I want the reader to identify with someone they love that goes above and beyond. Let’s pull on their heartstrings.”
“Your story last night took a man who is larger than life. The epitome of the word hero and made us see him not as a Navy SEAL, but as the man you love. When I looked at my husband, I saw him with the same love and appreciation for who he is and what he does. That’s what I want our readers to feel when they finish your article. I want them to feel the pride and love for their personal hero who’s just an everyday dude, but who goes above and beyond for those he loves.”
She smiles again. “Can you do that?”
I nod. “I can do that.”
“Good. I want the first draft on my desk in two weeks. Don’t worry about coming into the office. You can work remotely. Research your subject thoroughly.” She smiles, and I blush.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Thirteen
Jocko
Sitting in my truck at Wings Out waiting for Emerson to arrive, I keep staring at my phone, waiting for a text from Jorja and rereading the messages from this morning. I was salty after enduring another night alone.
Every time I closed my eyes, I could see her image clear as day and hear her melodic voice echoing in my mind. I could smell her scent on my clothes and taste her sweet kiss on my lips. I tried to whack off, but I no longer need a Jorja-hand-job to keep my sanity. I need to sink the son-of-a-bitch deep inside her to assure her I’m not blowing sunshine up her ass. I mean what I say and say what I mean.
I have gone through hell. I have paid my debt to my country, and it was an honor to do so. But now, I’m ready to focus on my life and my legacy. I’m ready to settle down, get married, have babies. But I learned last night the girl I was hoping to sweep off her feet and make a happily ever after life with has hated me the entire time.
What a mind fuck! What a fucking mind fuck!
Laying there in the dark with a hard-on and blue balls, I focused on the objective and solidified my rules of engagement.
• #1. Deter attacks.
• #2. Neutralize hostility.
• #3. Counteract aversion.
• #4. Take the offensive.
• #5. Peace through superior firepower.
I will be the victor of her heart, and Juicy Jorja is going to surrender her beautiful spoils to me. I don’t care how long it takes. SEALS never quit!
I look at my phone one more time as Emerson pulls up, but nothing.
She waves, and Lucifer and I get out of the truck. He trots around, sniffing, looking for a place to piss while she unlocks the door.
“Good morning. Have you been waiting long?”
“No.” I lie.
“Betsy called to bring Gwen some….” She laughs. “Never mind. Mommy talk.”
“Gwen is a cutie.”
“Thanks. She is a handful.” She swings the door open. “Come on in.”
“Psst.” Lucifer looks up and trots over.
Emerson laughs. “He minds better than she does.”
“He minds better than most kids do.”
“Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you. I’m good.” I walk around looking at her pictures hanging on the walls while she brews a pot. “You have got some good candid shots.”
“Thanks. Leo, my jump coordinator, took those.” She pours herself a cup of coffee. “So, let’s discuss the exhibition.”
I follow her into her office to go over the event schedule and the gear I'll need. When we're finished discussing all the jump details, I offer, “Once we're on the ground, would you like to have Lucifer demonstrate some of his K9 skills?”
“Of course! What do you have in mind?”
“That depends on the location, but he handles a mean obstacle course. Makes it look easy.”
Her eyes light up. “Like America’s Top Dog?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s a K9 competition on TV. They have to navigate an obstacle course. I'll call Desi and see if she's game to put it together.”
I stand. “Well, I'll get out of your hair and let you get to work.”
She comes around her desk to walk me out. “This is going to be epic, you know.”
“Doesn’t America’s Birthday deserve epic?”
“That it does.”
Heading back into town, my original plan was to stop by Home Depot to purchase the first items to begin the backyard playground for Lucifer, but I change my mind when I check the time. It’s 11:00, and I still haven’t heard from Jorja. Time to instigate my Rules of Engagement.
Driving past Modern Family Magazine, looking for a place to park, I spot her car in the lot. The street is crowded, so I go around the block and find a single parking spot around the corner. I’ll have to walk in front of the boutiques to get there, which will probably mean I'll be recognized, and someone will stop me wanting to welcome me home, which could turn a simple two-minute hike into ten minutes or more. But, if I have a bouquet from Daisy’s Flowers, it'll be obvious I’m on a mission, and I’ll score some major points with Jorja. All girls love flowers.
With Lucifer heeling, I buy a beautiful bouquet of red, yellow, and purple wildflowers, and the people I pass on the street simply say, “Welcome home, Jocko.”
When I enter the magazine’s front office, I tell the grinning receptionist. “I have this very special delivery for Jorja Jones.”
She nods and points me to the correct office.
When I pull open the door, I see a spacious area with ten desks. Several are face to face, while the others sit alone. The room buzzes with activity, and no one notices me. I spot Jorja typing on her laptop with earbuds in. Her hair's pulled into a curly ponytail. She's wearing a white buttoned collared shirt with the top two buttons undone. The fabric sags, gaping open and exposing a full view of her ample cleavage. Immediately, my balls draw up and start to fill. She looks every bit the sassy, sexy secretary men drool over in their dreams.
When I enter the room, I take two steps to the side and signal Lucifer to stay. I’m spotted by a girl in the back that looks vaguely familiar. She freezes, and her mouth drops open. I put my finger to my lips and silently ‘shush’ her. She nods, but her hand waves frantically for the girl next to her to pay attention.