Page 77 of Betrayed

After placing the order, Megan sat, and with her elbows on the table, leaned close. “We’re all friends here, honey.”

“And submissives,” Mara put in.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Which means we’re a part of a sisterhood, and what’s said at the table, stays at the table. What did that devilish Frenchman do to break your heart?”

Over the next fifteen minutes, while sucking down vodka like it was lemonade, and mopping up tears with cocktail napkins, Mari spilled her guts. Starting with marrying Derek when she was eighteen, to his betrayals, his affair with Adri, and how the woman who she thought was her BFF had cut her to the quick, too. After she shared how Arturo had deceived her, the arguing started.

“He should have told her,” Megan declared. “When Tony lied to protect me, it almost destroyed me, and us.”

“I’m torn on this one,” Angie admitted, chiming in next. “As a former cop, I can see Arturo’s dilemma. This is international espionage. He has to consider the good of the many, not the one, as the saying goes.” She paused and took a healthy sip of her margarita before continuing. “Sorry. But my thing with T wasn’t all that long ago.”

“Still raw, huh?” Megan asked.

“Yeah, but it’s fading quickly.”

Lexie nudged Mari with her elbow. “They’re recently engaged.”

A beaming Angie flashed the glittering rock on her finger. “Last year at this time, if anyone told me I’d be marrying the club’s biggest player, I’d have called them a liar. But what T kept from me were personal hurts and major trust issues. People weren’t at risk of dying while he was playing fast and loose with my heart.”

“He played fast and loose with more than your heart, cuz,” Megan teased with a waggle of her brows as she slurped up the dregs of a frozen margarita and reached for a refill.

“Yeah, if he hadn’t been so hot and knew his way around a dom’s bag of tricks so well, I’d have dumped his ass.”

“You tried,” Mara exclaimed.

“More than once!”Lexie cried.

“But when he kept crawling back, you folded like a cheap tent,” Megan accused.

“This is true,” Angie admitted with a shrug. “I mentioned he’s really hot, didn’t I?” Her dry delivery sent everyone at the table into fits of laughter.

Except Mara O’Brien. Even though she was much younger, in her early thirties, no more, the wisdom reflected in her eyes defied her years.

“I have to side with Arturo on this one,” she said, leaning in to be heard over the band and the raucous crowd. “I was where he was, kind of. To protect the man I loved more than life, I did what I felt I had to—lying, stealing, and much, much worse. Because I loved him, it was worth any sacrifice to bring down a nasty criminal and his cohorts that continued to threaten us, and so many others. I was lucky that he loved me enough to forgive me. Give Arturo a chance, Mari. If you think there is something worth saving there, don’t let all those who wronged you in the past shadow your future.”

The others who had watched her and Sean’s drama unfold were teary-eyed when she finished. Lexie passed out more napkins like party favors, and this time Angie flagged down their waitress.

“Thanks, Mara. That’s why I came here, to get advice and a little breathing room to think.”

“Mara, Mari, you two are confusing me,” Megan stated. “You’re going to have to be Marilee, or you”—pointing at Mara—“are going to have to be Tamara, or I’ll never keep the two of you straight.”

“Call me Tamara and we’re going to have a problem,” the pretty, usually soft-spoken blonde warned in a tone that had everyone blinking in surprise.

To keep the peace, Mari quickly jumped in. “I’m fine with Marilee.”

“Good, that’s settled,” Mara replied as she poured the dregs of the margarita pitcher into her glass. “We seem to be out of alcohol,” she said pleasantly before standing. She winked at Megan who smiled back as she watched her friend saunter to the bar, empty pitcher in hand.

“Uh, no offense, but she’s kind of scary,” Mari observed.

“She’s as sweet as can be,” Lexie said in her defense. “She’s just had a hard life and sometimes things bring back bitter memories.”

“Yeah,” Megan agreed. “That was my bad.”

“Definitely,” Angie said with a nod. “For a little thing, I’m surprised your big giant foot doesn’t get stuck in your mouth more often.”

As the others laughed, Meg stuck her tongue out at her younger cousin, though she didn’t disagree with the playful teasing, content to slurp up more of her frozen drink than argue the truth.

The band, in the middle of an awesome ballad, switched to an old Blondie tune without warning. Not the band’s usual genre evidently, Mari watched as the other three girls turned to stare. Mari did, too, although she did not know what Elena was up to until she nodded to the door while she sang the chorus, “French Kissin’ in the USA, French Kissin’ in the USA...”

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