Aliyah huffs, “I have an emergency.”
“No, you’re not calling me for a shoulder to lean on, Aliyah,” I stop in my tracks. “If it’s not a five-fire alarm,you should be in yoga pants, saying you’refiveminutes late to our sesh.”
“That’s today?”
“Yes, yoga today. Apparently, you’re not coming. But if you’re turning a new leaf, waking early, I expect you on time tomorrow to clean the shop.”
“Hey, hey, hey, I didn’t call to get reprimanded by my boss.”
“Um-hum, what’s the problem?”
“Tommy wants to do a double.”
“With who?”
“Lux, you’ve met his cousin, Stan.”
I toss my hands into the air, giving up. “Aliyah, I’m over first dates at the moment.”
“Okay, so you’re notintoStan. What about . . . Deon? You haven’t been in a relationship for over a year or out on a single date for only God knows how long.”
As she mutters about Arnold, I whack the crosswalk button. “I went out on a date—”
“Gimmethe details!” Aliyah expels all on the same breath. I roll my eyes heavenward. This is why I didn’t tell her about Victor. I knew she’d get too excited. “Good lawd, was it with the British guy! Move over Tom Hardy, Tom Hiddleston—damn, all the British Toms!”
“Let’s just say the best part of the date was his accent.”
“I knew it! That’s why I never step out on the broth—”
“Learned my lesson,bye!” It’s a cringe-worthy hang-up, but I need a couple of breathing exercises and a good stretch. I enter the gym, where the instructor’s hips twirl to warm-up music.
Aw, crap, Zumba. Getting into position, I reluctantly follow the beat.
“Hey, Lux.”
At the faintly familiar voice to my left, my eyes snap over. In a room full of exercise maniacs who are catching the beat, I’m the only woman not dancing. My eyes narrow on Suyoung.
What . . . the fuck? I watch as the slender whacko slowly catches the beat of the song. Dumbfounded, I wonder two things: One, if she’s honestly as oblivious as she appeared last night when waving me over after trying tostealVictor.
Two, this one might be an odd musing, but was the mole on the bottom of her chin there yesterday?
16
VICTOR
“Who the bloody fuck is this cunt—Ellen?” I grit out, pinning my little brother beneath a deathly glare. Powerful hands rest dormant at my sides as the first light of day glows over Graham’s disheveled face. “Speak now because if you were any otherwanka, your life would cease to exist.”
If he were anotherbloke, I’d have not made such a daft inquiry. Graham would simply lay dying in a pool of his own blood. But the chap is of the House of Tudor. More importantly, the sniveling arsehole shares the same life source.
“I was sleeping!” The extra blankets fall from his soft frame. Dressed in a pair of boxers, he climbs to his feet and away from the couch.
“The cunt, Ellen!”
“Oh, you don’t recall Ellen?” Graham gestures, hands outstretched. “Well, Luxury’s payback for Ellen. One sweet girl for the other.”
“You already said Luxury was payback for whoever this cunt Ellen iswhile returning here shite-faced last night.It’s by divine province that you’re alive, Graham,” I scoff.
“Ellen had the biggest, blue eyes. Surely you remember her now, brother?”