Page 48 of Sinful Blaze

Hazel has a point. Mother has been so die-hard for this marriage arrangement with Conrad to work out, she’d be shooting herself in the foot if she told him I’m pregnant with another man’s baby.

“But again,” she continues, “Con and I have a lunch date tomorrow, followed by a hearty round of paintball and then a couple’s massage. There’s no telling what I might say when me and my best pal Conny get to talking.”

Laughing, I chuck my wadded-up straw wrapper at her. Hazel chuckles, lifts her glass to me, and we salute our pact of silence together.

She’s always had my back and it’s a weight off my shoulders to know that she’ll be here, helping me field the drama of Conrad and my family, for the future to come.

Whatever that future may hold.

16

DAPHNE

I’m not drunk. There’s no way. I have absorbed exactly zero percent of alcohol this whole evening.

So why is my door blurry?

Damn, girl. You are tired.

It takes a few moments of blankly staring at the door to my new penthouse to process the fact that it’s not blurry at all—it’s covered in plastic sheeting.

And also, locked.

The fuck?

“Hi, Mr. Marquette?” I’m super glad I put him on speed dial for things like this. It’s way later than I intended to be out with Hazel, and being overly tired is pretty damn close to being drunk. “Sorry to bother you so late. What’s, ah… what’s up with my door?”

“Oh my God! My apologies!” Mr. Marquette sounds like he’s scrambling out of bed as he wakes up more to talk to me. “I completely forgot to call you. I feel terrible, really.”

“It’s totally fine.” I force the smile into my voice. Unlike my mother, I don’t turn into a raging bitch when things inconvenience me. “I’m just trying to get in and my key isn’t working.”

“Right, right. We had a huge water leak earlier today, damn near exploded through the whole ceiling. I had to change the locks and put plastic sheeting everywhere just to minimize the damage. And, you know, theft and all that.”

Odd. And a bit frustrating. But I refuse to take it out on him. It’s not like he cut open my new ceiling and punched a hole through the pipes just to spite me. “Oh, no! I mean, thank you for moving so quickly. Just… How do I… Where am I supposed to go?”

“I actually swapped the locks to the penthouse next door. You’re free to go in and use that place from now on.”

I frown. “I thought there was someone already living there.”

“There was!” He hesitates, then sighs. “There was. Right. He ended up moving out yesterday. Perfect timing, right?”

“Right. Yeah,” I add with what I hope sounds like a laugh. I’m so tired and I’m kind of tired of all these sudden issues. “So, ah…”

“I’ll have your things recovered and moved over first thing in the morning. And I’ll talk to the new landlord about bumping up that stipend so you’re compensated for the trouble.”

“That’s not necessary, really. Thank you.” But if he insists, I won’t stop him. This isn’t a slum house; I paid good money for a nice, safe home to start raising my baby in. The fact that it’s getting infested with bugs and now exploding with water just has me wondering if I picked the right building.

Or maybe this is my life now. Shitty events paving the way for mega-upgrades.

Just like how Hazel described Pasha…

I shake my head and suddenly remember I’m still on the phone with my super. “Hey, I should be okay. Sorry again for calling so late.”

“Not at all! It’s my job. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Know a good burger place still open?” I joke as I shuffle my way down the hall to the only other door in sight.

Marquette’s smile is audible. “Actually, I do! Double or single? On the house.”

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