Page 143 of Chicago Sin

Shock flashes through me, mirrored in both her eyes and—strangely—those of her fiancé.

I blink rapidly. Dammit. I made it all day without a tear. “Ah…” I don’t even know what to say. My stomach turns queasy again.

Why I didn’t realize that, of course, Armando was the one who told them I was award-winning. Who else?

And then further realization sinks in. I gasp. “Are you Grace?”

She stares at me with bald curiosity. “You’re dating him. Wow. I didn’t see that one coming.”

Her fiancé frowns. “You and Armando?” he demands, wagging a finger from me to my cell phone.

“No. Well, we were. But it’s…”

I don’t know why it feels so wrong to say no. I want to claim Armando as mine in front of these people. In front of his ex-girlfriend and her new fiancé. Maybe it’s to help restore Armando’s pride, maybe mine. I’m not sure.

“It’s complicated. But yes,” I answer, lifting my chin.

“Whoa. Okay. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make this awkward,” Grace says. “Armando told me I should come here to order the flowers for my wedding, but he didn’t let on that you two were an item. Congratulations. I mean, I’m really glad for him. For you both.”

My stomach churns at the lie. At wishing we had something to be glad for.

Strangely, I think she means it.

Her boyfriend looks at me with a cool, assessing gaze that unnerves me. Like, what the heck is he trying to figure out?

My hand drops protectively to my abdomen, and his gaze tracks the movement.

I clear my throat. “The total on your deposit is $1348,” I say.

“Sure, doll.” Emilio pulls out a wad of cash with that swagger that I’m used to seeing from my mafioso customers and peels off fourteen hundred dollar bills. “Keep the change and give my lady a nice bouquet, all right? Whatever she wants.” He turns to Grace. “I’m gonna step outside and make a phone call, doll.” He leans in to kiss her cheek.

I’m turned off by the fact that he calls us both doll. I sort of instantly hate him for hurting Armando although that’s irrational. If he hadn’t stolen Grace away, Armando might still be with her. And that would leave me without ever experiencing what it meant to be consumed by a man like him. To swim in his intensity.

“I’ll make you something special,” I tell Grace because there’s no one else in the shop, and I can spare a few minutes to throw something together that she’ll love. I’m still trying to impress her, despite the fact that she broke Armando’s heart.

Despite the fact that I may have smashed what was left of it after she finished.

“I’ll be right back.”

I have the back door to the alley propped open to let the breeze through because it’s cool for once, and I hear the boyfriend talking on his cell phone.

”Call it off. Yeah, I’m sure. I’m rescinding the job. It’s off. No money will be paid.”

A shiver sidles up my spine. I’m certain that’s a conversation I shouldn’t be overhearing. Not wanting to once again become a witness to something illegal, I hurry to finish the arrangement and rush back to the lobby with the vase in hand.

“Here you go.” I force a smile, still fighting off the sense of foreboding from hearing that phone call and the ache of having all my feelings for Armando activated once more.

“Thank you.” She studies me with curiosity. “Can I ask how you and—never mind.” She shakes her head. “It’s none of my business. I’m just happy for you guys.”

If only happiness could be ours.

“Thanks.” I watch her walk out before I pick up my phone and pull up an old text from Armando. He hasn’t texted once since I kicked him out.

I don’t know why I thought he would. But some part of me must’ve hoped because every day that goes by without hearing from him makes me die a little more.

My thumb hovers over my screen trying to decide if I should initiate communication. Finally, I settle for, Thanks for recommending me to Grace.

Then I delete the whole thing. If I send it, he might call and I’m not sure I can handle talking to him.