Page 2 of Three Sweet Nothings (The Blindfold Club)

I froze. “You’re where?”

“I’m being questioned by the FBI.” Her voice was clipped. “My friend is, too.”

“Evie?” I asked. Payton had been best friends with Evelyn since college. “Why are you being questioned?”

“Not Evie. His name is Julius, and it’s . . . complicated. Can you come, like, right now? I told him not to say anything until you get here.”

Things sharpened into focus. Payton wasn’t calling me for help as her big brother. I tried to ignore the tinge of disappointment. My sister was a product of our parents. Self-reliant, proud, and headstrong. It made sense she would only need me for legal counsel.

“Yeah,” I said, heading for my closet. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I gazed at the selection before me. “How serious is it?”

Payton’s voice was thick. “Wear your most intimidating suit.”

After passing through security, I was ushered into the FBI office and led down a hallway to a small conference room which probably doubled as an interview space. Gray carpet, a government cheap table, and no windows. My sister sat on one of the worn chairs, staring vacantly at the most wanted list posted on a wall.

Payton looked much younger than her twenty-eight years, sitting alone with worry etching her face and her shoulders slumped. My sister was attractive. I knew because I’d heard about it from guys during high school, the ones who were dumb enough to tell me how fuckable they thought my sister was.

She’d grown into a gorgeous woman. Even if I’d failed to realize that, her fiancé Dominic was quick to remind. Husband, I corrected. How could I forget my little sister was married? My mother hadn’t stopped shooting me disappointed looks throughout the evening this past Saturday. I hadn’t even brought a date to the wedding.

“God, thanks for coming.” Payton leapt to her feet, and in four quick strides, reached me. She threw her arms around my shoulders and squeezed.

“Are you all right?” When she nodded, I added, “Are they holding you? Have you been charged with anything?”

“No, not me. Just questions.” She straightened. “I’m glad you’re here.”

We hadn’t been close growing up. I’d had pressure coming at me from all sides, and if I was honest, it pissed me off how differently our parents treated us. I’d resented Payton for how she did whatever she wanted. Mom and Dad acted like I was the better child. The smarter one, but the reality was Payton was more intelligent. She’d figured out how to brush off our parents’ disapproval nearly a decade before I did.

Things shifted between us last year when I moved back to Chicago. We’d forged slowly into new territory, getting to actually know each other. She’d let me siphon friends from her, too. The move home from New York had been difficult. Why was it so hard to meet people as a single guy at thirty?

Payton dropped into the chair and gestured to the one opposite her. “You’re going to want to sit for this.”

I lowered into a seat. “What’s going on?”

“Can we talk freely in here?”

“They can’t record your conversation with counsel.” What the hell had she gotten into?

She pressed her lips together, but then gave a slight shake of her head, surrendering. “The wine club I sometimes work at . . . it’s a front. The place is actually a high-class brothel.”

What?

I couldn’t . . .

My mind was pure confusion. “This isn’t Nevada, it’s Cook County. Prostitution is illegal.”

“Yup.” It seemed like she was watching my reaction intently, and her expression was guarded. “My job is to negotiate the purchase price between the clients and the girls.”

Emotions clashed inside me. Horror Payton worked at an illegal whorehouse. Relief she wasn’t one of the girls. “So,” I tried to assemble the words and floundered. “You aren’t the one sleeping with clients for money?”

“No, no. Not anymore.”

The room went still.

What the fuck did she mean?

Payton combed a hand through her hair, pushing it back off her face, and leaned forward on the tabletop. Her expression hardened. “I like money, and I like sex, and I’m really fucking good at it. So, yeah, I was an escort for a while, and I don’t regret it.” She straightened, and defensiveness flashed in her eyes. “It’s how I really met Dominic.”

She was right, it was a damn good thing I was sitting down, because her words left me reeling. “Dominic paid to be with you?”

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