Chapter 2 #2
“Fine. We can have coffee, but not until I finish my shift at the salon.”
The eldest sister shakes her head before muttering, “You’ll be sorry.”
With my thumbs in my eye sockets, I moan. “I know, I know, but if I don’t, you two will have to pay my third of the rent.”
Slice finished, Rose licks her fingers, then reaches for another. “I got a knife in my bedroom. If he gets handsy, cut him.”
“Deal.” While we shake on it, Mia picks at a pathetic garden salad with no dressing and colorless tomatoes. “So, now that’s settled, tell us about your interview in the city.”
I share my morning, except for Sebastian’s searing kiss. I don’t need my revenge sex to get back to Vinny or my dad. Things are hard enough as it is. As I’m about to explain my contract, my phone pings.
Before I can delete the message, Mia grabs my phone. “Holy crap. Is this your ex? I’m going to block him.”
“Don’t.” With my Samsung safely back in my purse, I state my case. “He has my stuff, and I can’t afford a storage unit.”
Sighing, I shake my head, wondering again how I had let things get so bad for so long. “All he had to do was get a job.”
“The great American Novelist? Get serious.” Rose clucks her tongue.
Mia pokes my arm while she pours the last of the beer into her glass. “Did Will ever finish it?”
“Honestly? I have no idea, but I highly doubt it. He was too busy fucking half the women in DC.” Not wanting to think about him, I bite into the greasy goodness.
“Petey, you’re a fuckin’ genius,” After I shout across the room, I cringe.
A professional jerk, he does not disappoint. “You know what they say about a man who can cook…”
As we all groan, the wannabe comedian writes a phone number on the back of our check. “Sammy, call dis guy, Frankie. His Chloe’s been missing for over a month.”
“Thank you, Petey. I mean it.” Standing, I grab my purse off my chair, then curse my damn luck when the door opens.
In black jeans and a matching wool suit jacket, my dad looks young for his age—except for the gray brush cut. I get my brown eyes from my Mom. His are piercing blue, the kind that makes men piss themselves under interrogation.
“Joey said I’d find you here.” Released from his fierce bear hug, he laser focuses on me.
“Yay, Joey.” Cheering weakly, I circle my index finger’s virtual flag.
“Listen up, the JTTF is looking for analysts. You should apply.” Trying to appear pleased, I fight the urge to salute him.
“Thanks, Dad.” There’s no way the FBI will rehire me, and it’s so unfair. For fifteen years, I had nothing but stellar performance reviews. Then, one month after the new guy takes over, I’m canned. I put these negative thoughts aside. It is what it is—time to start on my life’s new journey.
No doubt sensing my unease, Dad pinches my chin. “Mom says to stop by.”
“I will. I promise.” Using the defensive mask I perfected as a teen, I cross my heart, but not wanting to tempt fate, I skip the hope-to-die part.
“That’s my girl.” His condescending tone makes me want to scream.
As I’m about to lose my shit, Rose pulls out a chair. “You want to sit, Uncle Mike?”
“No, no. You three princesses have fun. I need to get home before I turn into a pumpkin.”
While he chuckles, Pete calls out from behind the counter. “Hey Mikey, want a pie to go?”
“No, thanks, I’m on a diet.” My father pats his stomach, then taps his nail on the table. “Make sure you fill out the paperwork, Samantha. See you Sunday.”
“Yup.” While I congratulate myself for not creating a scene, he strolls to the door, pushes it, then stops.
And here it comes. He tries to look like he just remembered something, but I know better. I’m about to hear the real reason he searched me out. “By the way, what’s this I hear about you dating some bodyguard?”
My face heats, a sure tell. Dammit. “It’s nothing Dad, and even if it was something, I’m over thirty. I apologize, but it’s really none of your damn business.”
“We’ll see.” As the door slams, Petey shouts from behind the cash register, “Hey, Sammy, you seein’ someone?”
“Nope.” It was just one incredible night of panty-melting revenge sex, which cannot be repeated.
“Then why are you blushing?” Rose grabs my arm.
Eyes wide, Mia giggles. “Holy shit. You didn’t say anything about a bodyguard.”
Thoughts of Sebastian Sutcliff cause all my female parts to twitch. However, I feign disinterest because I’ve already made the gray-haired ladies' top-ten gossip list.
“Oh, I told you about him. He’s the guy who got me fired.”
“And you slept with him?” When Mia’s jaw drops and her dark eyes widen, I roll mine to the ceiling.
Closer than sisters, there’s no way I can lie without them calling bullshit. “It’s complicated.”
Much like the Disney crocodile who swallowed a clock, Rose smiles. “’ Fess up, cuz.”
“Not here.” Once the table has been cleared, we wave goodbye.
Outside, I make sure no one is listening then pull their hair to bring them closer. “I went out with him for a few drinks. He hit on me, but I said no. I don’t cheat.”
“Blah, blah, blah. Get to the good stuff.” A bloodhound on the trail, Rose catches my gaze and holds it.
Because I’ve always been one to rip off the bandage, rather than prolong the agony, I get right to the point.
“The night I was fired, I went back home. Will’s phone wouldn’t stop pinging.
After attempting a few passwords, I tried his birthdate.
He had dozens of texts from different women.
He was screwing around on me big-time—for months. ”
“The bastard. That’s so many shades of fucked up, I don’t even know where to begin.” Rose’s indignation makes me feel better about what happened next.
“If I ever say I am in love again, just shoot me.” I think it’s game over until Rose picks up the ball and runs with it.
“It still doesn’t explain how you ended up having sex with a bodyguard.” If my cousin had lived during the inquisition, the Catholic Church would’ve hired her in an instant.
“A guilty man agreed to revenge sex. No big deal. And no, I am not sharing any of the details.” As I’m about to confess my feelings for the sexy SEAL, we run into some neighbors,
Thank God, this ends the embarrassing conversation. Otherwise, I might’ve mentioned how one night with Sebastian Sutcliff made every male pale in comparison. Even if I live to the ripe old age of ninety, it’s his face I will picture as I touch myself under the sheets.
I am so, so screwed.