Page 96 of My Favorite Secret
“I didn’t tell her anything. I swear.” The words rush out of Cindy’s mouth. “She must have overheard us on the phone one evening. Besides, what does it even matter? She’s a kid. She won’t tell anyone.”
My eyes squeeze shut. Amalie is fourteen and attends the academy. There are plenty of people she could tell. Perhaps she already has. Gossip travels fast.
“If this gets back to my father… Cindy, I swear?—”
“Please don’t be upset with me. I should have been more careful. Amalie won’t tell anyone. I promise. Your dad won’t find out.”
Thank God he left for Italy this morning.
“Look, I’m home now. I need to go.”
“Harper, I’m sorry.”
“I know. This isn’t your fault. Justpleasemake sure Amalie keeps her mouth shut.”
I hang up and enter my apartment, leaning against the door with a sigh.
“Princess, what’s wrong?” Tyler pulls me into his arms, kissing my forehead. “You’re shaking.”
I curl into his chest, trying to lose myself in his comforting embrace. “Cindy’s little sister overheard us on the phone one night. She knows I’m with you and Felix. I’m afraid she’ll spread gossip and word will get back to my dad. She attends the academy.”
“I’m calling bullshit.” Felix’s blunt words startle me.
I turn around in Tyler’s arms, finding Felix has joined us. “I’m not following.”
“What, does Cindy live in a house with no doors? Is she living in the past where the only phone she has access to is a landline in the kitchen? No one just overhears phone calls anymore. If her sister knows, it’s because Cindy told her.”
I shake my head. “I know you don’t like Cindy, but she’s one of my closest friends. Maybe she had me on speaker. I don’t know. All I know is she wouldn’t betray me like you’re suggesting.”
“Harp, Felix makes a good point.”
I free myself from Tyler’s arms, groaning. “Not you too. Cindy is a good friend. She’s never done anything to prove otherwise. I don’t know why you’re both so against her.”
Tyler pulls me straight back to his chest, linking our fingers. “Okay. Just be careful with her. Try to not stress about the little sister. If word gets out about us, we’ll deal with it.”
“I don’t see how. My father will freak out.” I pause, looking Tyler up and down, only now realizing he’s wearing a tailored three-piece suit and his dark hair is slicked back.
My heart skips a beat. Tyler is always handsome, but Tyler in a suit is the epitome of charm.
Felix is dressed up too. No jacket, just a black vest over a white dress shirt and pants. The sleeves are rolled up, exposing his forearms covered in ink. But instead of thesuave appeal of Tyler, Felix looks beautifully dangerous, like he’s stepped out of a backroom poker game with whiskey on his breath and someone else’s money in his pocket.
“What’s the occasion?”
“You mentioned wanting to visit a speakeasy.” Felix steps up to me, placing a finger beneath my chin and tilting my lips to meet his while I remain in Tyler’s arms. “Tonight’s the night. Let’s try to forget about the Cindy drama. Tyler’s right, we’ll deal with whatever happens. We have an outfit waiting for you on your bed. Go freshen up and meet us back here in one hour.”
The entrance to the speakeasy is hidden in a dark alley downtown. The only giveaway is a green neon light in the shape of a clover above the door. It feels dangerous being here, despite Felix’s assurance that The Clover is a perfectly legal establishment.
A faint pulse of jazz seeps from inside the building. The cool night breeze tousles my hair, sending shivers through me. Tyler wraps an arm around my shoulders, keeping me warm.
Felix knocks on the door five times in a deliberate rhythm. When there’s no answer, he leans one shoulder against the brick wall and watches me, admiring my appearance. The heat of his gaze makes me blush. I’m wearing a coat for warmth, but the dress Felix and Tyler picked out for me is a sparkly champagne with fringe tassels and is barely long enough to be decent. It’s sleeveless and the neckline dips low. To fit the 1920s theme, Istyled my hair in waves, then applied dark eye makeup and a bold red lip.
“What are we waiting for?” I ask.
As soon as I speak, a small panel in the door slides open, revealing a pair of dark eyes belonging to a man. “Password?” he asks.
“Crimson clover,” Felix replies.
The panel snaps shut. A moment later, the door swings inward, inviting us into a dimly lit hallway. The jazz swells in volume. I can distinguish saxophones and trumpets.
