Page 19 of Morally Black Betrothal

Since when did simple compassion have the ability to stab?

Probably since I’d forgotten what it looked like.

“I’m fine,” I managed to get out without my voice cracking. “I—sorry for snapping at you earlier.”

Another apology.

“Oh, gosh, no worries. No one is themselves when a loved one is in danger. I’ve seen much worse.” She twisted her mouth into an adorably lopsided smile. “Plus, I know how tough siblings can be. Mine is…difficult.”

I growled. I actually fuckin’ growled. It was innate and startling, but the idea of anyone treating this girl with anything less than respect made me feral.

Jesus.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I admitted once I’d managed to swallow back the impulse to hunt down the perpetrator and show them what real disrespect looked like.

“Would you like me to sit with you for a minute?” She checked her watch. “I have a little bit of time.”

How about forever?I almost asked.

She wasn’t touching me anymore, but just her presence brought me back from that sudden ledge. My breathing grew steadier. My thoughts cleared.

“No,” I murmured. “That’s all right. I won’t keep you.”

She stood, and it took everything I had not to grab her hand and pull her back down beside me.

“Best wishes to your father,” Simone said softly before turning to leave.

I watched her walk back to Charles Street and disappear onto a bus heading downtown, but her glow seemed to remain on the bench beside me.

When I closed my eyes again, her face reappeared with that shy smile, beckoning follow.

I didn’t move, though.

I had a sneaking feeling that if I did start to chase Simone Bishop, I wouldn’t be able to stop.

And that wasn’t a distraction I could afford right now. It wasn’t a luxury I could allow myself.

Not now.

Not ever.

5

A CEO WALKS INTO A BAR…

Simone

For once, my sister was on time.

When I arrived for my shift at Fez, Selena and Kylie were waiting for me outside. My sister had double-parked her dented Mazda outside the lounge’s clover-green awning that led to the entrance of a lounge housed beneath one of Back Bay’s classic brownstones, and she paced in front of the awning-covered entrance while puffing away on her vape pen. Kylie was treating the stairs leading to the apartments above it like a jungle gym.

“You’re late!” Selena called out. “You said you’d be here by 5:50.”

I checked my watch. Typically, I did get to the lounge fifteen minutes before my shift started. Today, however, I’d been waylaid by Brendan Black looking like he was about to have a nervous breakdown on a park bench.

I still didn’t understand what had made me want to comfort him. But when I’d seen him take off from the hospital exit like a lost dog, I had simply followed into the park. And when the manwho’d seemed so strong less than an hour earlier buried his face in his hands, I’d had to do something.

“I still have a few minutes before I start,” I told my sister as I approached.