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Jayla sighs. “Okay, true. It was a dickish move for sure. But what do you have to lose from one dinner?”

“My dignity.”

“Sissy…”

“I don’t let men mistreat me. Ever.” I swallow against the swell of emotion rising up in my throat. “Not anymore.”

Not after Lincoln…

She puts her arms around me and draws me in for a hug. “I get it, girl. I know. I’m not saying you should. I’m saying maybe hearing his explanation will help clear things up. It could even give you closure.”

“Since when do you make so much sense?”

“Since I started absorbing my sissy’s advice to do better.”

I squeeze her knee in answer. “You’ve always made me proud. But I’ve always wanted the best for you.”

“Which is exactly why this is our year. You’re killing it at Metro News. And I’m going to make my salon a success if it kills me.”

“You’ll get there. You just need to build up the clientele.”

I get up from the sofa and start fussing with my earrings. It’s been a long workday full of twists and turns and I’m ready to shower, change into some PJs, and crash out in front of the TV. Ever since Jayla and I moved in together, we’ve had to adapt to sharing such a small space. I step into the bathroom and test the hot water.

Thankfully, she’s left me some.

Twenty minutes later, I emerge amid a cloud of steam, feeling refreshed and relaxed. Rafael’s far out of my mind and my stomach’s grumbling for food.

Jayla’s still in the living room, but instead of filing her nails, she’s on a video call with our parents.

“Is that my cupcake I hear in the background?” Mom gushes. “Portia honey, come say hello! I want to see your beautiful face.”

I laugh softly as I pad over to the sofa and join Jayla on the video call.

Both Mom and Dad are squeezed together into the camera frame, the angle slightly unflattering as it shoots from below and offers us a view up their nostrils.

Technology has never been their thing considering they grew up before computers were even invented.

They were almost fifty by the time they adopted Jayla and me. But they heard the local news story about two orphaned young girls and stepped up to take us in. Though they were never able to have children of their own, they’ve always told us they didn’t need any.

We were more than enough.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” I say. “I’m glad you figured out how to use your iPad.”

Mom swats a hand. “You mean this dang thing? It wouldn’t even let me charge it.”

“We saw you on TV today, honey,” Dad says. “You sure it’s safe to be at the scene of a shootout?”

“Jerrod, it’s herjob.”

“I’m just saying, couldn’t they report from a couple blocks away?”

Jayla and I share an amused glance. “Dad, I was reporting at the scene because that’s where the shootout happened. I was there afterward.”

He nods, though the bend of his mouth tells me he still doesn’t like the idea of his daughter being at the scene of a crime.

If only he knew all the other things I’m doing in my investigations. Including how closely I’m tracking Il Diavolo and the Bellucci crime organization…

I’m able to steer the conversation away from the dangers my news reporting job brings and toward more safe topics like their upcoming anniversary and cruise.