Page 81 of Sinful Promises

“Whaaaat?”

“Yep, he was halfway through a seven-year prison sentence for armed robbery.”

“Holy fuck. I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Me neither.”

“So that’s good news, right?”

“I guess so. I’ll never know who my father is, but I don’t care.”

“Good on you. So . . . what’re you going to do now?”

I giggled. “Guess?”

She squealed. “What? What?”

“You’ve gotta guess.”

“You’re going after Roman.”

“Sure am.”

“Fuck yeah!” She screamed with excitement. “When?”

I told her about arriving in London and what Bruce had done.

“I hope you kicked it out of him.”

“I wanted to. But I’ve got a better plan. I’ll be there when Roman arrives for work on the first of December.”

“Oh my god, that’s gold. It’s going to be like one of those corny romance movies where you cross the parking lot toward each other, arms out, tears spilling down your faces. I can so picture it.”

“You watch too much TV.”

“It’s so exciting. I wish I could be there, babe. I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

“What are you going to do for three days?”

“Sleep.”

“I bet. You must be totally fucked after what you’ve been through.”

“Yeah, and my body clock is all over the place. I don’t know what the bloody time is.”

“So, go to your room, pull the curtains, take a sleeping tablet or get stuck into the mini bar, and knock yourself out for the rest of the day.”

I huffed. “That sounds perfect.”

“Oh, but hey, you know what you should do before you see Roman?”

Here we go. “What?”

“You should buy yourself a new dress. Something that’ll blow his mind.”

“Hmm. I like that idea.” I glanced at my hands. “Maybe I’ll get my nails done.”

---