Page 38 of Sinful Secrets

A smile grows on my face as pride fills my chest. I might not know fashion, but watching Savannah bead her purse was like watching Leonardo da Vinci paint the Mona Lisa.

I text her back.

That’s so great! I’m proud of you. We will have to celebrate.

In more ways than one.

My heart sinks as I read her message.

That sounds wonderful. How about your place after our date tonight?

I forgot about our date. How could I forget? I just jumped in and volunteered to come up here.

Something came up, and I can’t make it tonight. How about as soon as I’m back in town, I make it up to you?

Three dots dance on the screen as she types out her message.

Is this about last night?

Of course, she would connect the dots.

Not in the way you’re probably imagining.

Last night, as soon as things were getting hot and heavy, Arturo called and demanded my presence.

I wanted to say no and tell him I was busy, but he’s the boss, and when he demands to see us, we have to drop everything. No excuses.

Savannah is quiet for a few minutes, but her response is exactly as I expected.

You told me you love me and then immediately had to leave without an explanation. Do you regret saying it?

It wasn’t immediately after I said it, but it wasn’t very long after we went inside.

I can’t tell her about the mafia. I can’t tell her that Arturo owns me and my freedom and what he says goes.

Of course not. I wouldn’t say I love you if I didn’t mean it. I told you something unexpected popped up.

I try to diffuse the situation, but she fires back.

What random thing pops up in the middle of the night? Besides a side chick?

My fingers move on their own. I read my message after it was already sent.

Finding out that a friend of the family’s funeral is in a couple of days and my presence was requested at the wake and funeral.

That’s close enough. Maybe one day I’ll tell her everything, but right now, when I’m a half a dozen states away, this is the best answer I can give.

The dancing dots return, keeping me on the edge of my set.

Did I fuck this up?

Will I be able to make things right?

I wait for her message, not sure what to expect from her. Her reply makes me want to fly back home and say fuck it to Jax’s funeral.

I am so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?

I send my reply as the taxi parks in front of the hotel.

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