Page 55 of Underground Prince

“They’re involved in an illegal gambling scheme,” I said. “What did they think they were doing? Family game board night? Theo’s obviously going to collect.”

“Stop that!” She jabbed her finger at me. “You stop saying his first name this instant!”

I tugged my beanie lower onto my brows. “I keep forgetting that.”

“You don’t know him personally, as much as you’d like to,” she said. “And you’re not dumb enough to pretend that you do.”

“He’s warming up to me, though,” I said, resuming our pace.

She sighed. “Of course he is.”

“And so are Sasha and Georgie,” I said, covering for the dip in my voice she must’ve sensed. “And even”—I fumbled, stuttered over almost saying Delia’s name—“even you’re impressed by my incognito cocktail skills.”

She punched me lightly in the arm. “Focus on that, please. On rising in these supposed ranks you have in your head so we can get out of the basement.”

We stopped at an intersection, facing a quiet residential street that bordered the park, brown and red-bricked properties worth millions. Most stone staircases leading up to the front doors had potted plants of the rotund variety, giant ceramic orbs lined up vertically like soldiers.

I’d focused on those while we waited for the light, on the coming days of winter those shriveled flowers foreshadowed, when a black car smoothed to a stop in front of us.

Scanning, recognizing the luxury shine, I said, “You’ve got to be kidding me. Did you text him?”

Verily regarded me like she would a toy poodle prancing around with my dye job. “Who? Sax? Why would I text Theo Saxon?”

The tinted passenger window rolled down, and the face I expected poked out.

“Too good to come out and say hi?” I asked Theo.

He shifted his attention to Verily and then to me. “Nice to see you, too.”

The light changed, and I glanced up at the pedestrian walk sign. “And what can we do for you today, kind sir?”

“Get in,” he said to me, sliding into the shadows, a serpentine fade-out into the abyss.

“A blabbermouth, as usual,” I said to the spot he just vacated.

“You’re not going with him,” Verily said. “Are you?”

“Who says he’s not talking to both of us?”

“Hey, I’m cute, but I ain’t stupid.” She gesticulated again, attempting to keep our conversation private and away from Theo’s ears. “Don’t you dare get in that car with him—after everything we just talked about.”

My arm rose of its own volition.

“Scarlet.”

“I’m sorry, Vare,” I said, understanding her concern but unable to resist. What would Verily, my friend for life, think of me if she ever saw what truly writhed underneath my skin?

She sucked in a breath. “You are seriously disobeying me right now.”

“I’ll talk to you when I get home. Swear.”

“You bet your ass you will,” she said. “I can’t control you, Scarlet, but for God’s sake, watch out for yourself.”

I shut the door behind me and the window rolled up as I sat there, staring out at her. Her complexion changed from a healthy glow to a grayish cast, the tint obscuring her.

It was a moment, one tiny second, where her lips wobbled before she got ahold of herself. And in that small flounder, I witnessed her true feelings.

Guilt.

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