Page 16 of Underground Prince

Another warning, this time from a stranger with no reason for caution. I followed her gaze to Theo, wondering what it was about this guy that sent ladies to whispers.

The blonde’s hands wilted around Theo’s shoulders. She said something in his ear before pressing her lips to one of his curved cheekbones.

He smiled.

It was the smallest rise over his usual half-cocked one, containing genuine amusement, or dare I think it—affection.

“That’s Georgie,” Sasha said.

My lips ached with the sudden pressure I applied.

I asked Sasha, “Girlfriend?”

“Who knows with them,” Sasha replied, and maneuvered around me. “Congratulations. You survived another night.”

“Oh,” I said, shocked out of my intrigue.

Last time, I didn’t see my shift end, for obvious reasons. Now, it seemed I was being relieved by another fresh-faced girl to attend to the whims of these nocturnal thespians.

I’d dumped my purse beside the bar, and reached down to search through it for my flats when I felt the prickle of someone’s scrutiny. Georgie remained behind Theo, smiling down at him, my newbie existence airily dismissed. But I caught Theo watching me.

With an agile flick that had me thinking I’d been fantasizing again, he went back to his cards.

Interesting.

I slung my purse over my shoulder.

Yep. As I’d come to know of myself, I did so love a challenge.

7

HEART HELL

“Is this table all right, hun?”

My father pointed to a spot in the back, and we navigated through the English-style pub until we reached it. He pulled chairs out for my mother and me with flourish, flashing a cheeky grin at us before saying, “Madams,” but I knew him too well. His lips trembled dangerously.

“Thanks, Dad,” I said. I laid my hand on his, both grateful and heartbroken that he and Mom decided to come visit me for lunch. He squeezed once before taking a seat across from us.

My mother busied herself with her napkin, folding it in half and laying it across her lap. She studied it with all the ferociousness of a CIA operative eyeing a mark—anything to prevent herself from accidentally looking at me.

“How’s the first month back in the city?” Dad asked. He was fiddling with the salt and pepper shakers. The salt tipped over, scattering granules across the table.

“Jerry,” my mother said.

“Oops.” He sifted the mess together with both hands. He pinched a few between his finger and thumb and threw it over his left shoulder. “Bad luck, right?”

A little sound escaped my mother’s throat, a mewl of condemnation.

He grimaced. “I’m sorry, Susan. I didn’t mean—well, it wasn’t meant—”

“It’s great,” I said, my voice bursting through the crackle of tension. “I decided to move in with Verily.”

My dad screwed up his eyebrows. “Verily?”

“Remember?” My voice was pathetically small. “She was my roommate in the dorms. A year and a half ago.”

“Right! Nice girl.” He tapped a finger to his lips. “A little crazy with the hair, though.”

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