Series: Chicago Sin Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 338(@200wpm)___ 271(@250wpm)___ 226(@300wpm)
“Smart thinking.” I want to go over with her—watch how it goes down. I don’t know if it’s to protect her from the guys who might be over there or to stake my claim, but it doesn’t matter because I can’t.
Best way to protect Hannah is to never connect the two of us.
I gotta sit in the back of her shop like a fucking pansy, hiding from God knows who.
This is bullshit.
“You didn’t tell me you had a staff person coming in today.” I glance over at Josie who doesn’t seem to be doing anything other than picking at her manicured nail and yawning as she does so.
“Her schedule can be…fluid,” Hannah says, still focused on arranging.
She pulls another vase down and makes a bigger, showier arrangement in it. It’s two feet tall and stunning.
“Who’s that for?” I ask.
She nibbles her lip. “There’s a hotel a couple blocks from here.” She shrugs. “Maybe I’ll go introduce myself. You know, in case they need flowers for events. Or could recommend me to the event-planners.”
“That’s good.”
Maybe she will turn this place around.
“I’ll drive you after we get the van back. Circle around the block, so you don’t have to do valet.”
She gives me a withering look. “I wasn’t going to do valet. I’ve never done valet in my life. I was going to walk.”
I look at her wedge sandals. “Nah. I’ll drive you. You wouldn’t want the flowers to wilt. Just wait for the van...it’ll be done in a couple hours.”
She draws in a breath and lets it out slowly, like she’s nervous about this.
“You’re gonna be great. They’ll love you.”
“You think?”
I nod. “Positive.”
She steps a little closer to me, into my personal space. I only resist touching her until I realize that’s what she wants, and then I band an arm around her waist and draw her right up against me.
She tips her lovely face up. “I’m nervous.”
“Flowers, a woman who looks like you? With crazy talent and no diva bullshit? There’s no one in this city who wouldn’t want to work with you. I guarantee it. It’s just gonna be about who they currently do business with and what their needs are. Some connections may take longer to germinate, but they eventually will.”
She blinks those curled lashes at me. “I want to believe you.”
“Don’t believe me, Flowers. Believe in you. That’s the only thing that will get you there.”
She draws herself up and squares her shoulders. “Who do you believe in?”
It’s a simple question. Should be an easy answer, but I feel like I’ve swallowed lead. “Nobody, Flowers. Not a Goddamn soul.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Hannah
Josie keeps trying to get me alone, but Armando won’t let it happen. He appears deceptively relaxed, lounging around in the back, but he picked a spot where he can keep an eye on everything—front door, back door. Workshop. Coolers. Kitchenette. It’s not like the shop is that big, but there’s nowhere I go I don’t feel the weight of his gaze.
And every time Josie tries to follow me somewhere with a million questions in her eyes, Armando’s suddenly standing there, warning me without saying a word.
Right now, I’m in the cooler, but when Josie came in after me, Armando propped the door open, so he could hear.
It’s freaky. It shouldn’t get me wet. I’m not sure why his brand of intimidation turns me on so much. I must be wired wrong.
But Josie’s concern makes my stomach knot up. I should’ve been more freaked out about Armando and my situation, but until now, when I see it through her eyes, I didn’t realize how fucked up it is.
And of course, I can’t tell her the situation. Even if Armando wasn’t watching, I wouldn’t tell.
I don’t know, I’m one of those hopelessly loyal people who takes my friends’ secrets to the grave. And I guess Armando falls into the friend category. He was already in it when the situation went down. I was rooting for him from the beginning.
I believed in him. He just doesn’t believe in me yet.
I wish that didn’t hurt as much as it does.
But I have to cut him slack. He probably has PTSD from prison. Someone’s trying to kill him, and he doesn’t know who to trust.
Why would he have any faith in me? He shouldn’t.
I hear the sound of my phone chiming like I got a text. Repeatedly.
Where is my damn phone? Armando has it somewhere. He’s kept it on him the whole time although I appreciate the fact that he made sure to charge it.
I look through the glass and see Josie behind the counter holding her phone and craning her neck to look over her shoulder at me. We’ve been besties since middle school when she stood up for me against Erica Bane, one of the popular girls, on the third day of school. She knows me through and through. I am stupid to think I can fool her about anything.