Target Wife Acquired – Chapter 3: The City Siren’s Command

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Friday, June 18, 1999 – Target Stockroom

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The fluorescent glare of the Texas heat-baked stockroom did little to soften the sterile steel shelving and pallid gray concrete underfoot. Lee stood amid the towering racks, clipboard in hand, diligently inspecting a fresh electronics shipment that had arrived without prior notice. His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the endless task list, weighed down by the fiscal pressures of payroll and dwindling sales forecasts.

“The backroom’s looking a bit chaotic today, Lee,” a smooth voice teased behind him.

He pivoted to find Susan, the store’s polished HR manager, her crisp red Target polo tucked into a just-within-regulations khaki skirt, a walkie-talkie snug at her hip. Her perfectly angled bob framed a flawless face brimming with composed confidence.

Lee rubbed his neck and chuckled tiredly. “You don’t even know. With the regional visit looming and freight piling up, my crew’s barely keeping up. Plus, since sales are trailing forecasts, I’ve got to juggle getting this all done while slashing payroll,” he quipped wryly.

“Remember what I told you about working here,” Susan countered lightly. “When the motto’s ‘Expect More, Pay Less,’ the second meaning isn’t far behind.”

Lee nodded, a knowing smile crossing his face. The brutal hours demanded of managers were epic. “Thanks again for yesterday. Jenna was walking on air when I got home.”

Susan leaned against the shelving, arms crossed with a smirk. “It was nothing. Jenna’s sweet, but she carries all that small-town nervousness. She just needed a safe place to let her guard down.”

“Whatever you and Nikki did worked,” Lee said gratefully. “Jenna made me promise I’d check with you today. She’s been a bundle of nerves waiting by the phone, afraid she’d miss a call from you or Chili’s.”

Susan chuckled, reading Jenna perfectly. “Tell your pretty little wife to breathe easy. Nikki already primed Tony with a voicemail. No need to panic.”

Lee shook his head. “Jenna mentioned Nikki’s… intense personality. Something about Nikki’s alternative lifestyle? My brain was fried, I almost forgot.”

Susan’s smile deepened subtly. She understood how to soothe Lee while keeping Nikki’s plans hidden. “Nikki’s just secure in herself – a strong, independent Dallas woman. Loyal to her circle. The moment she saw how eager Jenna was, she insisted I drive her to drop off that application before dinner.”

“Yeah, Jenna said you rushed right over. That means a lot,” Lee admitted. “With logistics and overnight resets, I’ve felt terrible leaving her so alone. I worried she’d get down.”

Susan moved close, pressing a reassuring hand to his shoulder. “Don’t feel guilty. Nikki and I will watch over Jenna. She’s part of the circle now.”

Lee exhaled a visible sigh of relief. “Thanks, Susan. Just tell me if she becomes troublesome.”

“Jenna’s a sweetheart who does exactly as told. She’ll fit right in,” Susan laughed, turning toward the offices.

Saturday Morning, June 19, 1999

Jenna sat cross-legged in the living room, folding one of Lee’s red Target polos with practiced ease. Nearby, a plastic laundry basket held her own clothes, their simplicity a sharp contrast to the Ralph Lauren pieces Lee had insisted she wear when out. Her cotton underwear, plain and utilitarian from Walmart, symbolized her small-town modesty beneath the upscale facade.

The memory of Friday night lingered. Lee’s exhaustion had meant her conversation about Nikki and Chili’s was brief, leaving a buzz of anxious anticipation clinging to the silence. Pulling the strawberry lip gloss from her pocket, she softly traced her lips and glimpsed her reflection—wearing a junior-sized tank top barely concealing her natural curves.

“Lord, Jenna,” she whispered, bashfully peeling off the tank to don a padded bra. Her mother’s stern warning echoed: “You’re a prize, not clearance.”

Quiet steps led her to the bedroom, where Lee reclined against the headboard, flicking through Sports Illustrated. Though not a tennis fan, he kept each swimsuit issue, his exceptions a secret she half-understood.

Jenna curled up beside him, knees to chest, her youthful posture a reminder of her innocence. Lee smiled and teased, “Like a schoolgirl, especially with that shiny gloss.” Pulling her close, his hand traced the edges of her cotton briefs beneath thin shorts.

“A wife should feel comfortable here,” she murmured, her deep East Texas accent softening with pride.

“Absolutely. By the way, that tan looks great,” Lee complimented.

“Thanks—I’ve loved pool days with Nikki and Susan. Hope to spend more time with them.”

Then Lee hesitated before broaching a delicate topic. “Some guys at work were saying all their girlfriends are going completely bare down there—Dallas is the new trend.”

Jenna’s cheeks flamed. “No way. That’s perverts talking. Momma always said only lesbians or ‘fast girls’ shave it all off. My bikini line’s always stayed trimmed since cheerleading. I wouldn’t change that.”

Lee laughed, kissing her forehead. “I love you as you are, but if you ever want to change, I’d be okay.”

“Lee Collins! You’ve been reading those swimsuit issues too much!”

Sunday Afternoon, June 20, 1999

The weekend dragged without any word from Nikki or Chili’s. Lee napped deep after gaming late Friday night, leaving Jenna to soak up the midday sun by their pool. Errands and groceries filled the afternoon, but when she checked the answering machine, only her mother’s call appeared.

By mid-afternoon, her nerves mutated into full-blown anxiety. Had she said or done something wrong? Had Nikki lost interest? She clutched the cordless phone, praying it would ring.

At 2:30 PM, it finally did. Grabbing the receiver, her heart pounded.

“Hello?”

“Jenna? Tony from Chili’s here,” came the sharp, professional voice. “Nikki mentioned you. You dropped off your application Friday. No part-time servers just now, but Susan spoke highly of you. I’d like to set an interview Tuesday at two.”

“Oh my gosh, yes! That works perfectly!” Jenna stammered, overwhelmed.

When the line went dead, relief flooded her. Almost forgetting her promise not to call first, she dialed Nikki immediately.

“Nikki! Tony called! He wants to interview me Tuesday!” She gushed, breathless.

Nikki smiled warmly on the other end, slipping into her mentor role. “I promised I’d take care of you. But listen carefully. Dallas is different. To ace this, come over tomorrow at three. Ty and I are off; you meet him, then we relax by the pool. I’ll coach you on big-city interview skills.”

Jenna nodded, unaware of the full weight behind the invitation.

“Bring that neon orange honeymoon bikini. I want to see how you look in it,” Nikki added, her tone firm but inviting.

Jenna’s cheeks flushed brilliantly, caught off-guard by the command but secretly thrilled to be desired.

“The orange one? The thong back Lee bought me in Florida?”

“That’s right. Remember your promise to repay me? I’ll see you at three. Also, wear your shortest shorts and a polo shirt, but no bra. I’ll explain why.”

The line clicked. Nikki turned to Ty with a knowing smirk. “That girl’s a real ‘Genie in a Bottle’—just waiting to be rubbed the right way.”

With Lee drowning in work, Jenna’s small-town boundaries were quietly dissolving, leaving Nikki to carefully chart her next move.

That evening, Lee emerged from the bedroom, energized after gaming. Jenna seized the moment, eager to share her news over dinner.

“Lee, you won’t believe this! Tony from Chili’s called! Even without openings, he wants to interview me Tuesday at two, thanks to Nikki and Susan’s recommendations!”

Lee smiled, fatigue fading. “See? Getting out and meeting Susan was worth it. I’m relieved knowing you’ve got a foot in the door. No more sitting here isolated while I work.”

Jenna added with guarded excitement, “I called Nikki right after. She invited me tomorrow at three to meet Ty and hang by their pool. She’ll coach me for the interview.”

Lee’s warm smile missed the subtleties behind Nikki’s invitation. “She’s taking you under her wing. You should go. At least you won’t be alone.”

Jenna returned his smile, savoring the thrilling secret of Nikki’s explicit directives—the neon bikini and going braless—a private pact between mentor and small-town girl, deepening with each passing moment.

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