My voice sharpens.
“And who is it for? Huh? Who the hell is he buying it for?”
That comes out more venomous than intended.
Mom rests her chin on her hand, studying me like I’m her favorite soap opera.
“Yes… whocouldit possibly be for?” she muses. “Maybe for a certain matchmaker who was watching him play the other day like she wanted to leap over the railing and tackle him?”
“MOM!”
My face ignites. “I waswatching the game! I was focused on sports performance!”
“Of course. And I don’t match couples for a living.”
She lets out a crystal-clear laugh that wipes the gloom right off her.
“Sloane, sweetheart, that vein in your neck popped every time someone said something snarky about him. And when he scored? I thought you were going to faint. And now you’re here, red as a tomato, furious because he’s buying sexy lingerie.”
She leans in, dropping her voice conspiratorially.
“You’re jealous.”
“I am NOT jealous!” I nearly shout, springing to my feet. “I am professionally outraged. That’s different!”
“Sweetheart, professional outrage does not usually include wanting to strangle a man with your bare hands… or tear the lingerie off him with your teeth.”
“MOM!”
She raises her palms in surrender, still laughing.
“I’m just saying that bodysuit would look stunning on you. And something tells me he knows it.”
I grab my bag, sensing the battle is lost on all fronts.
“I need to go. I need to… yell at someone. And that someone has a first name, a last name, and a bag full of lingerie that I sincerely hope is for his grandmother.”
Mom blows me a kiss as I storm toward the door.
“Have fun, sweetheart! And if he gives it to you—pretend to be offended before you accept it!”
I slam the front door behind me, ears ringing, heart pounding.
I am not jealous.
Absolutely not.
But I am going to find out who that damn lingerie is for—even if it kills me.
41
Ready to Face Him, Scold Him, Maybe Throw a Paperweight at His Head
Sloane
Walking in heels while furious should count as an Olympic sport.
The sound I’m making on the agency’s hardwood floor isn’t a simple click-clack.
