Page 46 of Pride
Parker really needed to turn up for work.
And he needed to communicate.
Just because he’d started the company didn’t mean he was immune from scrutiny and subterfuge. She returned to the computer with a mix of emotions battering her head and heart as another possibility came to mind. Was the in-house shopping Parker’s way of looking out for her? Of… dare she think it, courting her?
* * *
The followingtwo days started much the same. Parker sent his fashion police, and Alice was forced to endure being picked apart and prodded. By the third day, she was ashamed to admit she kind of liked the shopping. It was a pity she wouldn’t get to keep any of it, not if she ended up back at the Sisterhood. This uncertainty prompted her to call off the fashion visits once and for all.
He was buying her things, and she was starting to like it, yet he’d remained unresponsive on the office messaging system. He barely replied to her emails about the alliance and request for help to recover their missing Sinner, Prudence. It was time to talk, and it would be better if they did it in person. She was just about to send him another message when the receptionist called, announcing another visitor.Shit.
On her way to the office door, she imagined a beauty salon entourage about to accost her. This just wasn’t her. And if Parker assumed she was the kind of woman who liked to be primped and kept, then he had another—
“Alice,” Mary Lazarus greeted as Alice opened the door.
Alice’s blood pumped with a singular message—enemy, danger.She assessed the ex-Sinner and tried to locate a weapon. Found nothing but her fists. The last time Alice had seen Mary face to face had been a chance encounter at the front of the Cardinal City Cathedral months ago. Alice had been sure Mary recognized something familiar within Alice, even then.
“I was wondering when you’d come.” Alice stepped aside. There was no point running from this.
The petite woman entered. She wore black leggings and a sports hoodie, snug and stretchy—great for extreme and explosive movement. Her long black, silver-streaked hair was in a braid that dangled between her shoulder blades. She walked on sure, silent feet like a panther perfectly balanced and ready to pounce. In her hands she carried naught but a manila folder. Coupled with the clenched jaw, Alice had to assume the woman was feeling hostile. Or at the very least, defensive.
What’s in the folder?
Alice closed the door behind Mary, giving them privacy. Mary took stock of the room, noticing some of the shopping bags and clothes George and Bridget had left behind. Alice blushed and gestured at them. “Your son seems to think I need better clothes. And… er… other things.”
Mary snorted, amused. “When Parker was little, he used to spend all his allowance shopping. Usually on gifts.” Then she met Alice’s eyes. “Let’s not beat around the bush. I’m here to ask questions.”
“About?”
“You.” Mary walked over to the vintage leather Chesterfield and dropped the manila folder onto it. Then she sat and waited for Alice.
Oh my, Grandmother, what big teeth you have.
There were no Sinners as legendary as Mary Lazarus. She was the name whispered in the dark at night. The name used as a punishment to ward off bad behavior, and the name used in prayers of hope. Some, maybe even Alice herself, had wished to leave the Sisterhood behind like Mary had. Maybe. A long time ago. Mary’s reputation preceded her, and that’s what spooked Alice the most.
As though her feet were lead, Alice joined her and sat slowly, eyes never leaving the woman who could put Alice down in a blink. She stayed vigilant. Ready. And braced for the wolf.
Mary held out her hands, palms to the ceiling. Alice raised a brow just as apingsounded on the computer. The first contact from Parker in almost two days. How odd that he chose now when his mother was here… unless he was concerned.
Danger. Enemy.
Mary waited, not a movement in her chest with the intake of breath, nor a lowering of her thick dark lashes. She was silence personified as she waited for Alice to place her wrists in Mary’s palms. This was an interrogation technique they’d learned in the Sisterhood—they used their own bodies like a polygraph machine. Mary wanted to see if Alice was lying via her pulse fluctuations, and no doubt, if Mary was unsatisfied in any way, she would respond appropriately, possibly with force. Except… they both knew a Sinner could school her pulse and beat this test.
Strike first.
Alice stifled her instincts, unwilling to attack the woman who’d raised Parker. Instead, she put her wrists in the woman’s awaiting hands. If Mary was surprised, she didn’t show it. Anotherpingsounded at the computer. They ignored it. And then the phone rang.
“Do you need to get that?” Mary asked.
“It’s your son,” Alice replied. “I’m convinced he’s monitoring me through the internal security system. Probably watching us right now.”
Probably watched the entire time Alice was fitted for clothes, but she kind of liked knowing that. She may even have played into it a few times.
Mary gave a feminine grunt, then she glanced up at the camera in the corner and smiled.
Alice smirked. “He can wait until we’re done.”
Let him squirm.
