Page 13 of Sinful Bargains

Lucy smirked. “He probably saw you and thought,perfect, here’s my chance to play the hero. He likes that kind of thing.”

I crossed my arms, feigning innocence. “He’s just being a gentleman.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Angela gushed, “of course he’s a gentleman. They all are when they want something.”

“Trust me, we’ve known Joey our entire lives.” Lucy laughed. “Women fall for him all the time.”

“Not me,” I said back.

Angela eyed me, tilting her head like she wasn’t buying my words. “No? Not even a little? Not even when he flashed that million-dollar smile your way? Oh, you know the one I’m talking about!”

I couldn’t help but laugh. I didn’t have a thing for Joey, and he sure as hell didn’t have a thing for me. He was attractive. Charming, even. But that’s where I drew the line.

Lucy smirked. “Joey doesn’t help just anyone. He’s picky, you know.”

“Maybe he’s just being polite,” I said, trying desperately to maintain a straight face.

Angela laughed. “Joey? Polite?”

“Come on, Adriana. Be honest. You can tell us. We’re your friends.”

“There’s nothing going on between us,” I said, grinning despite myself.

“Liar.” Angela grinned back.

“I’m not some homewrecker. I’ve been there, and I’d neverdo that to another woman,” I said. I was vaguely aware that Joey had a girlfriend.

“Homewrecker?” Lucy scoffed. “Oh, please. You’re the whole package, and Joey knows it.”

“Joey’s with Renee,” I replied. I hadn’t heard this from Joey himself, but from Mr. Davidson. He warned me to “watch out”—not for Joey, but for Renee. He said she could be “vengeful, vindictive,” and I knew better than to cross a woman like that. Especially with the secret I was keeping.

“It’s more of an arrangement than a relationship,” Angela said.

“An arrangement?” Lucy echoed. “She’s practically holding the man hostage.”

“How do you two know all this?” I asked. I should stay out of his personal life, but it seemed only fair considering he continued to insert himself in my life.

“Because we know Joey—and Renee,” Angela said. “And let me tell you, he doesn’t love her.”

I could hardly help the warmth that crept up my cheeks, nor could I shake the lingering thought of Joey. Did I really like him? Part of me resisted the idea, but another part couldn’t deny that something about him drew me in. His sharp, confident, disarming smile was hard to ignore, especially how he’d smiled the day he’d helped me with my car. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to confront what those thoughts meant. It felt too complicated, and I wasn’t looking for complications. But every time I caught myself thinking about him, I couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to our interactions than just a gentleman’s gesture.

Later that evening, as I was preparing dinner, I heard Joey’s car pull into the carport. Moments later, the front door burst open, and Antonio ran inside, beaming with excitement. It was a joy I hadn’t seen in so long, and it warmed my heart.

“Ma! Guess what? Joey’s taking me to a Yankees game on Saturday!” he shouted towards me.

My eyes met Joey’s, standing behind Antonio at the front door. “A Yankees game? You’re taking him to a game?”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “figured the kid could use a little fun. Don’t worry, I got it all covered—tickets, snacks, the whole shebang.”

“Joey, I don’t know…” I said, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. The thought of Antonio being so far away in a large crowd made me uneasy. Anything could go wrong; by anything, I meant someone could recognize him, and our quiet, peaceful life would be blown. “He’s never been to a stadium before. It’s crowded—anything could happen.”

“Ma, please! Joey said it’s a rite of passage!”

“Go wash up for dinner. We’ll talk about this later,” I told Antonio. He hesitated, looking at me and then at Joey before marching towards his bedroom.

“Joey, I don’t think this is a good idea. I mean, I hardly know you. I can’t let my thirteen-year-old son go off to the city with a strange man that we hardly know.” I sighed, turning my attention to Joey.

He leaned against the wall, a strikingly handsome figure in his crisp, navy suit paired with a white shirt and a neatly knotted tie. His dark hair was slicked back with pomade, faint streaks of gray just beginning to show. I knew it was wrong to think of him this way—let alone blatantly checking him out.

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