Page 46 of Secret (Chicago Underground 6)
“Lindsey, there are going to be kids coming to the school.”
“I didn’t say you had to smoke pot. It has a kitchen and a bathroom. With a little renovation, it’s your new apartment.”
“Where exactly is this place located?”
“Lincoln Park, which is totally safe. I mean, you wanted to stick to the city, so we’re not talking white picket fences or anything. But it’s a cool area with families packed like sardines in condos.”
“With no outlets for their kids’ energy,” I finished.
“I knew you’d see the light. So I’ll set up a viewing?”
“As fast as you can. And tell them they have an eager renter ready to sign, so don’t go showing it around.”
“Are you? Ready to sign, I mean.”
“Absolutely.”
“And your brother?”
“He’ll deal with it,” I said firmly. “I’m sure he can handle the news that his sister is a grown-up doing grown-up things. He’s a big boy.”
Lindsey flushed with a dreamy expression. “Don’t I know it. The man can fill out a suit, that’s for sure.”
She’d had a crush on Philip since he’d come to one of our dress rehearsals the year before. At least he hadn’t taken her up on her not so subtle hints. He knew better than to cause problems for me in the dance company. Because where he was involved, trouble inevitably followed.
“Believe me,” I said, “you’re better off.”
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t want to marry him. I just want to fuck him.”
“Nice,” I said drily.
“I’m sorry we can’t all be Miss Goody Two-Shoes.”
The sharp words caught me off guard, and I flinched.
She sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. You’re the innocent one. It’s cute.”
“No worries.” I offered her a quick smile before heading for the door. “I’m heading out. Text me when you have a time for the viewing.”
I got in my car, shaking my head. If only she knew. Sure, it had been a while for me, but I was far from pure. My past would remain with me wherever I went, however long I avoided the subject.
No, my concern for her hadn’t been borne of prudishness. My brother wasn’t a good catch. Philip was a criminal. Not the whitewashed, white-collar type to embezzle money or take the company jet out for a spin. He was an honest-to-God bad guy, grown up like a weed between the white trash of Chicago. Strictly speaking, he shouldn’t even be allowed in the starched crowds he frequented. But one thing tipped the scale: power.
Wealthy businessmen courted his favor. Their rich-bitch wives wanted to have sex with him. Sometimes he would oblige them. But that was Philip. He made the rules and then broke them.
As I left the city, the walls of downtown gave way to squat shopping strips and a blue-orange sunset in the distance. The streets of Chicago were like one of those visual illusions. Close up, there was only chaos, garish and bright. The secrets lay deeper, hidden from those who didn’t know how to see them.
Philip’s house was in one of the many pocket neighborhoods. The people here had been carefully curated by the size of their investments and the expanse of their networks.
And then there was me. When I pulled into the long driveway, I saw a silver Lexus in the courtyard beside the garage.
Drew.
He was here. He met with Philip at least once a week, so it really shouldn’t be a big deal at all. He wasn’t here to see me anyway, but my heartbeat quickened as if he were.
Drew Laramie was my brother’s lawyer. The first time I met him, he was wearing a tailored Italian suit by a designer I didn’t recognize. That alone was enough to pique my interest, sex starved as I was. I peeled back each layer in my mind: the soft wool, the thin silk, the stiff collar, and underneath? I wasn’t sure what I would find.
My only glimpses of a man’s body came from shadowed corners of the high school football field. Then it had been smooth, tanned skin heavily doused with tattoos. Then it had hurt.
