Page 91 of Sinful Sacrifice

“Where?” I adjust the air vents in front of me because even though New York is in a heat wave, Julian keeps it like a freezer in here. Even a snowman would freeze to death.

She squeals out an address, her voice radiating with a happiness I haven’t heard from her in years. I recite it out loud to Julian.

Instead of pulling onto the street, he snatches his phone from the cupholder. “Let me okay this with Damien.”

I drop my purse on the floor. “Damien isn’t my boss, nor am I on house arrest.” I smack the center console. “Now, let’s go.”

He shoots me a yeah, sure expression and holds the phone to his ear.

I bend down to collect my phone from my bag while Julian waits for Damien to answer.

“Hey, Damien, Pippa?—”

Just as Julian starts talking, I hit Damien’s name on my screen.

Julian pauses, snapping his attention to me. “Are you seriously calling him right now?”

He pulls the phone from his ear. My guess is, Damien just ended their call because seconds later, Damien answers mine.

“My mom wants me to meet her somewhere,” I explain through the speaker.

“Where?” he snaps.

Julian pulls up the address on the car’s GPS, and I repeat it to Damien.

“It’s only a fifteen-minute drive,” I add to further get my way.

“Fine,” Damien says with plenty of annoyance. “But you call me when you leave, Julian stays with you at all times, and if it’s anything shady, you leave right away.”

“Yes, Dad.” I blow out a dramatic breath. “Geesh.”

Julian shakes his head.

“I’ll punish you for that attitude later,” Damien says. “Be good.”

He ends the call, and I toss my phone back into my bag while staring at Julian in satisfaction. “See, that’s how it’s done.”

Julian shifts the car into drive and pulls away from the curb. “What you did earns no bragging rights. My brother is obsessed with you. You could ask him to buy you a goddamn goat, and he’d ask you to choose your favorite color. And probably make me take it on fucking walks.”

“A goat walker.” I make myself comfortable in the seat. “That’s a job I’d sign up for.”

“If only we could sign up for jobs.” He clicks the turn signal. “I definitely wouldn’t have chosen this one.”

From his tone and the glance he sends in my direction, I’m positive he isn’t referring to working at the casino … or his criminal employer.

He’s referring to the job of watching me.

In Julian’s eyes, chauffeuring me around is a bigger inconvenience than actual murder.

“I’d consider this”—I pause to motion between us—“the easiest part of your job. All you have to do is drive me around and provide snacks.”

“Like some goddamn soccer mom.”

“You want me to sign you up for the bake sale as well?”

“At this point, I’d rather make cupcakes than tote you around.”

I gasp, faking deep offense. “I like to believe I’m a good time. Your brother surely thinks I am.”

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