Page 66 of Keep Him Like Secrets

“You know how chihuahuas are the angriest little dogs, even when facing up a dog ten times their size? I think Saff is a little like that. She needs to be ten times as mean and strong to get the same level of respect.”

Respect.

Fear.

Those were… interesting descriptors.

They definitely weren’t the ones you would typically use to describe a businesswoman of any sort.

“She’s a good soul,” she went on. “Don’t let neighborhood gossip convince you otherwise. It’s not easy around here for a woman. A girl’s gotta do whatever it takes.”

I felt like I was missing something really vital. But no one seemed to want to give me direct answers.

“Anyway. Here you go,” she said, passing me back my card and the canvas tote I’d grabbed while following her around. “Can I just say, it is the absolute dream to find a man who will read with you. Saff is a lucky woman. She deserves it,” she added.

“She’s pretty amazing,” I agreed. “Thanks for all your help.”

“Anytime,” she said.

I made my way back outside, feeling even more confused than a few moments before.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I almost missed her.

But, sure enough, there she was a block away, back to me. There was no mistaking her. The petite frame. The body I now knew every inch of.

Memories flooded my mind, needing to be tamped back down so I didn’t get distracted.

The one thing that was very different about the Saff in front of me right then, though, was that her hair was fully blue. Like she’d washed whatever temporary dye she’d had on out completely.

I was about ready to try to discreetly follow her, see if I could figure out what she was up to around Brooklyn to get the reputation she seemed to have, when she suddenly bent down as a dog came up toward her, all wiggles.

And as she leaned down to pet it, the back of her shirt rode up, exposing something that had my spine straightening.

A gun in a holster on her waistband.

I ducked down the side street, needing more than ever not to be caught creeping around behind her.

Not because I thought she’d shoot me or anything like that.

I needed some time to get my thoughts together, to try to come up with any reasonable explanation for everything I’d heard and seen.

Sure, this was New York. And, yes, gun laws were understandably strict. But strict didn’t mean there weren’t people around carrying.

Hell, if I was her size, I’d want to be walking around with every weapon possible.

Respected.

Feared.

Psycho.

Crazy bitch.

Stay away. Stay far the fuck away.

I happened upon Calvin parked outside of a juice place, sipping on an extra-large shake as he rocked out to some song on the stereo that I wouldn’t even pretend to know.

“Oh, Mr. Vale,” Calvin said, halting as the door slammed when I slid into the back. “Sorry, I—”

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