Page 31 of King of Deception

“Don’t what?”

“I’m the one who should be asking. How come you’re not working now?”

“With last night’s opening, I can afford a night off.” He paused. “Don’t what?”

“Act concerned? It’s New York. Whatever happens can happen in broad daylight.”

“Hey, I didn’t—”

“Look… I’m trying as hard as I can not to let my last relationship affect the way I view men?”

“Uh-huh?”

“But I can’t help it sometimes. He treated me like a child, and while at times—I must admit—it felt nice. Like I was being protected? But it went up to levels where he was completely possessive, suspicious, and flat out unreasonable.”

“Define unreasonable.”

Flashbacks of Jude’s violent behavior ran through my mind like an ominous, dark reel. The time he shouted at my coworker for calling me late while working against a tight deadline. The night he tossed my laptop on the floor, breaking the screen. They just kept coming. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay? Listen, I didn’t call to upset you. I actually wanted to say that I had a really good time last night and…” His dog barked again, and I heard slurping sounds against the microphone. “Okay,” he chuckled, “now he’s jealous.”

I giggled. “Of me?”

“He can tell it’s not a work call.”

“A work call?” I raised an eyebrow as I took off my jeans. “What are those like? You guys discuss the latest trends in silverware?” He forced a chuckle, and I instantly felt bad. “Shit, I—I…”

“It’s okay. No, sometimes we have more complicated conversations… splitting earnings, organizing staff meetings.”

“I’m sorry. There’s no easy job, and that was completely ignorant of me.”

“Really, it’s fine. Speaking of that, I’m guessing you work mornings. Am I keeping you up?”

Throwing my jeans to the floor, I laid down, unbuttoning my blouse. “I’m far from sleepy.”

“How come?”

Grinning, I bit my lip. “I don’t know? My best friend got back together with his boyfriend tonight. I was there to witness it.”

“Third wheel much?”

“Hey! We were a group. Also, Frank Sinatra might have something to do with it.”

“Didn’t know he was still alive.”

I laughed, and it came out goofy. “It was a tribute band. They were really good, too.”

“Did you get to dance?”

“I did. My partner knew all the moves.”

“Are you trying to make me jealous?”

“I don’t know. Are you threatened by seventy-year-old ladies in houndstooth dresses?”

“You’re shaking my confidence; I am not a good dancer.”

Running my fingers through my hair, I closed my eyes and recalled the way he moved with me in his arms. “I find that hard to believe.”

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