Page 57 of Sweet Animosity

“Who says I’m protecting anyone?”

He placed a finger under my chin. “I do. And I’m always right.”

“Not in this case. Abakar told my… agency… that he wanted a… secretary… who had art experience because they’d need to understand gallery invoices and how to fill out the international custom forms. He never asked me about the specific artwork, and I never met the forger.”

I mean, technically you don’t meet yourself.

In a panic, I continued to expand the lie. “And for your information, I get rent help from my parents.”

“The parents you never call?”

I frowned. “How would you know—” I gasped. “My phone! You went through my phone!”

“Of course I did. I had to monitor it in case someone important called you, like your mother.”

Or the forger.

I scoffed. “And interrupt her bridge game down in Florida? Not likely. I want my phone back.”

He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out my phone.

I almost squealed in excitement when I saw the pink pearl case. Then I got mad. “You’ve had it with you this whole time?”

He shrugged.

Snatching it from his hand, I opened it to make sure he hadn’t seen any incriminating texts. Thank God, I never did business on my phone. Only through the fake Etsy shop I’d set up for “custom artwork” commissions.

As I scrolled through the text messages, something was off.

There were messages missing.

Then I opened the contacts.

There were contacts missing as well.

I held the phone out between us. “Did you delete all my male contacts and text messages?”

He turned his wrist to look at his watch. “We have to go. I have a meeting.”

Pulling the Gucci shopping bag from my grasp so he could hold it with my other purchases, he placed a hand on my lower back and ushered me out of the store.

Of course, his car was exactly where he’d illegally parked it without so much as a ticket.

“This isn’t over,” I warned as he ushered me into the passenger seat.

He refused to respond.

As we pulled into the parking lot, he turned and held out his hand. “Give me your car keys.”

I’d just finished putting my wallet, makeup bag, and keys in my new Gucci purse. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to have one of my men move it inside where it’s safe.”

“Oh. I guess that would be okay.”

I handed him my keys.

“Go up to the office. There are stacks of new membership applications that need to be filed.”

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