Page 21 of Black Jack (Advantage Play 5)

I wave him off even though he can’t see me and collapse into one of the cushioned leather bar stools tucked beneath the island in the center of the kitchen. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure something out.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” I sigh and take in the extravagant apartment another time. “We’ll just have to have a little chat about budgeting.”

Another laugh filters through the speakers. “Good luck with that. The Castellos aren’t exactly good at listening. They’re more of the talking type and are stubborn as hell.”

“I may have noticed that much.”

“And it only took you what, an hour or two?”

“Apparently. I just…I don’t know her. That’s all.”

“Yeah. Well, everyone else in the family knows her all too well, and we still can’t figure out what she’s thinking the majority of the time.”

It’s the way he says it that makes me pause. They know her all too well. Like it’s some unsaid secret that everyone else is privy to except me.

“What do you mean?” I demand, my suspicion spiking.

He hesitates, and I know that something slipped out that he’d been meaning to keep to himself.

“Nothing,” he deflects.

“Bullshit. Tell me.”

“Seriously, Jack. Just drop it.”

“You’re keeping something from me, King.”

“I’m keeping a lot of things from you, Jack,” he returns like he’s talking to an idiot.

“And in most circumstances, I would respect your privacy, but when it comes to my future wife, I’d like to think I have a right to know whatever you’re hiding.”

He releases a deep breath, and I know I’ve won. “Look, I don’t want to make it weird for you.”

That sounds promising.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I press forward even though a small part of me knows I’ll regret it. “Just tell me, King.”

“Bianca has always been desperate to find a husband, and she always figured that one of the easiest ways to find one was to use her assets.”

“Which assets in particular?” I press, though I’m afraid I might know.

“She’s…not exactly a virgin, okay?”

I snort, though it does nothing to ease my annoyance. “Yeah, I figured that much out. The girl oozes sex from every pore.”

“And she’s not afraid to give people a taste,” he finishes point blank.

“Are you saying”––I drop my voice low–– “that Bianca has gotten around?”

Another sigh. “Yeah, Jack. I guess that’s what I’m saying.”

“How much?”

“Basically everyone,” he offers dryly.

“Great. I’m marrying the family slut.” My tone is bitter and laced with sarcasm, though I refuse to acknowledge the way my stomach tightens with jealousy.

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