Page 44 of My Beautiful Sin

“This is wonderful,” I say, meaning it. “Why on earth hasn’t he told me yet?”

The corners of her mouth curve down. “Oh, I didn’t mean to spill the beans. He must have been saving the news. The actual ceremony is a few weeks away in New York. I know he’s planning to take you. Black tie, the whole nine yards.”

“I can’t wait,” I say, already thinking I’ll need Brandy’s help picking out a dress. And this definitely calls for a shoe splurge in LA.

“He was joking to me me that you’ll be most excited about the chance to buy another pair of designer shoes.”

I burst out laughing, my shopping plans still lingering in my mind. “That man knows me too well.”

“Well, of course,” she says easily. “He loves you.”

Shelby is more fun than Lamar’s Lexus, so the plan is for me to pick up Lamar and then drive us up to LA. Since I spent less time at the DSF than I’d expected, I consider going back to Brandy’s, then decide that I might as well head to Lamar’s condo. I don’t have a key—it hasn’t occurred to me to ask—but the oceanside structure is impressive, with an incredible pool and spa, a full-service restaurant that will deliver to the units, a fine dining restaurant that boasts a celebrity chef, and a coffee shop that makes an amazing latte.

Lamar owns his unit as well as four others that he rents out, all bought and paid for with the money he earned by being a cute kid with acting chops and having powerful parents in the entertainment industry. “I couldn’t have become a cop otherwise,” he once told me. “I’ve got expensive taste.”

I grab a latte, then take it out to the pool. The deck is built into the cliff, so that the pool itself is infinity style, the water appearing to fall off the edge and into the ocean. I settle at a table in the shade and open my phone, planning to clear out old emails.

Instead, I see last night’s text, and the gulp of coffee I just swallowed feels like a stone in my stomach.

I know Devlin’s busy, but I want an update, so I text him three question marks.

I don’t expect a reply right away, so I’m pleasantly surprised when not only does he respond immediately, but actually calls me.

“Hey,” I say. “I know you’re busy. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“I’ve been meaning to call you all morning. I’m in Vegas. Some security issues I need to take care of.”

“I heard,” I tell him. “I popped by to see you this morning.”

“I’m sorry I missed you.”

“Me, too,” I tell him. “I’m guessing you haven’t had time to research last night’s text.”

“It was my top priority,” he tells me, with the kind of ferocity in his voice that assures me that he means it. “But nothing to report. Same situation. Burner phone. Trashcan. Lamar’s condo building.”

I look around as if in reflex at the same time that I say, “Lamar didn’t—”

“I know,” he says, and with such certainty it makes me sigh with relief. “But someone wants to shed some doubt.”

“They figure I’ll choose sides? But why? What’s the point?”

“Honestly, I’m not sure what the endgame is,” he says. “Other than exposing me. But what do they know? Or think they know? Who my father is?”

“Or what happened with my uncle?”

“Exactly,” he says.

I frown, then look around to reassure myself I’m alone on the pool deck. “Should we be talking about this over the phone?”

“It’s secure. I’ve taken precautions.”

“Right. Of course you have.”

As he chuckles, I sigh. “I want to know who’s screwing with us,” I say. “And think about the timing of that text. It came right after you delivered the roses. Someone’s watching us,” I add, as much for myself as Devlin. “It can’t be a coincidence.”

“They said you were fucking a dangerous man. It’s just as easily a general statement.”

I hug myself. “I don’t like it.”