Page 127 of A Shade of Myself
Rory, on the other hand, was sad. “I don’t know if I can continue the ruse.”
Gigi slammed her hand down on the massage table. “Yes, you can. I watched you dance for years and you’re incredible. You were just robbed of your chance.” She poked her sister. “Besides, if you screw this up now, after all we’ve gone through…” Her gaze went distant and the haunted look she’d worn while with the demon returned, but she shook her head and brushed it away. “You are going to conquer the ballet world, got it, stinky face?”
Rory rolled her eyes, but she also looked hopeful. “Got it. And no more separations.”
Gigi nodded. “Never again.”
I’d been convinced that this case could only end in doom and gloom and heartbreak, but it wasn’t jealousy that had brought this about. It was the desire to escape a role that didn’t fit for one that did, haters be damned.
Admittedly, it wasn’t the smartest way to go about it, but they were desperate.
I wasn’t naïve enough to believe that it would be smooth sailing for them. Even if they were willing participants in all this, being thrust into an illusion and then yanked out of it would take time to heal from.
“Thank you.” Rory hugged me. “If you hadn’t believed me that something was wrong and taken this case, I wouldn’t have gotten Gigi back.”
“It was my pleasure.” Tatiana always prioritized payments, but my clients’ gratitude was richer than any cash.
Shit. My boss was going to be furious when she heard about this happy ending.
“I don’t suppose you’ll back me up in telling Tatiana that the twins were devastated,” I said to Emmett.
He looked aghast. “Lie to a woman who could squash me like a bug? Nooooope.”
The fake receptionist finally unlocked us.
I bid the twins goodbye and good luck. I truly hoped that they got everything they wanted this time.
Clea and I exchanged an “until next time” look.
I skipped back to Vancouver through the KH, feeling lighter than I had in days.
Emmett was too dazed to protest going straight back to Tatiana’s. “Are you coming in?”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “You can give her the details.”
“Coward.”
“Self-preservation, my friend.” He could take the brunt of her anger on this one. I’d have plenty coming my way once I told her the truth about her car crash.
I got into my car, buoyed by my encounter with the twins, and intending to head over to Hotel Terminus for a much-needed conversation with a certain wolf shifter.
That’s when a text came through. Blood Alley. Now.
