The Mistress ✓

3

This can't be a good sign.

"Sorry, I have to take this," I tell Tiffany.

"Of course. I'll catch up with you later on any other details. This is going to be great for Seven Sinners. Also, I have a line on a few more organizers interested in reserving the space for events, and a couple other ideas that could really be profitable. I'll fill you in tomorrow."

Normally I'd be thrilled to hear this, but I'm already distracted completely by my caller.

"Thank you, Tiff. This is why you rock at your job." I stride down the hallway.

"Hey," I answer.

"You know I don't get up before noon. You better explain these cryptic-as-shit texts that woke my ass up," Megan says.

After Megan dropped out of Sacred Heart in tenth grade because her scholarship got pulled, my mother told me I couldn't see her anymore. The ban wasn't surprising, because Megan got caught giving our history teacher a blow job in the supply closet. Mr. Kirk dissapeared, but Megan viewed the situation as her calling.

Mama tried to exorcise her from my life, but that's not how friendship works, at least in my book. Megan is the one who beat up Wendy Williams when she made fun of my nose in fourth grade, which also resulted in a suspension. She coached me through using my first tampon. Took me to the clinic to get birth control after I got asked to the prom at a boy's private school, because she swore she wasn't going to let me make any stupid mistakes with my life.

Megan is the big sister I never had. The one who looked out for me and always made sure I stayed out of trouble. My loyalty to her runs deep, and in my opinion, how she makes her living is no one's business but her own.

"Meg, I have a problem."

"What, you getting hit on by another restaurateur who only wants to carry Seven Sinners if you have a private dinner to talk it over with him?"

I can practically hear her rolling her eyes over the phone. That has been the extent of my male interactions since Meek died, and she knows it.

I duck into my office and shut the door behind me before I speak, "Robyn Fenty. She was here." As soon as I say her name, the goose bumps return, along with the lingering seductive scent she left behind. I'll probably have fumigate my office to get rid of it.

Meg's voice goes quiet. "The fuck did you say?"

"Roby--"

"Shut your damn mouth and do not say that name again."

My teeth clack shut.

"She is not a woman you want to know you exist. And we can't talk about this over the phone. I'll get up. Get dressed. Fuck."

Her reaction validates everything I've been thinking. This situation isn't bad. It's catastrophic.

"What do I do?" I hate the fear making my voice unsteady.

"You get your ass to my place and tell me every damn thing that happened. Bring some of that whiskey of yours too, because we're going to need it."