Page 130 of Sins (The Sins Trilogy 1)
“It was just dinner,” I say, swallowing a sigh. What is up with everyone around me reacting so weirdly? It’s not like I asked to have wine thrown in my face.
“But with Anthony! In videos!”
“It’s not a crime to have dinner with Tony. He was a perfect gentleman at the restaurant.” In bed was another matter, but Sam doesn’t need to know that.
“But the videos…! Everywhere…!” He’s so furious, he can’t even finish.
“If you’re that upset, talk to whoever uploaded them,” I say, deliberately misunderstanding him. I don’t want to fight about Tony over the phone with Sam on my first day at work. “There’s not really anything I can do.”
“You need to stay away from him. I’m getting you a ticket to Tokyo right now.”
My jaw slackens. “What? You can’t do that!”
“You need to leave the country. Immediately.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so. Don’t forget about your brain damage, Iris. I can have you declared incompetent or worse!”
I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it, incredulous. Just who the hell does he think he is? Just because he helped me when I was in a bad spot doesn’t mean he gets to bully me like this.
I put the phone back to my ear. “Are you out of your mind? Do you think anybody’s going to believe I’m incapable of making my own decisions because I had brain injuries nine years ago?”
“Don’t think I can’t. I will find a judge who agrees with me.”
Sudden panic flutters in my belly. He’s entirely too serious. And I have a feeling he might be able to find somebody who’ll do just that. “Sam—”
“Tonight. That’s the earliest one out. So pack your fucking bags.”
“I’m not going anywhere. I just started a job.”
“What? You never said anything about a job.”
Because every time I told him about my plans, he ignored me. It isn’t my fault he didn’t know. But bringing that up is going to be like pouring gasoline on a fire. “I told you I wanted to settle down.”
“Settle down in Tokyo, then.”
What the hell is wrong with him? There’s nothing for me in Tokyo. I don’t even speak Japanese! “Look, I’m not quitting.”
“Whoever you’re working for can’t be paying you enough to give you the lifestyle you’ve accustomed to.”
“It’s meaningful work.”
“Cubicle slavery is the same whether you do it in L.A. or Tokyo. Tell me where you are. I’m sending a car.”
“You can’t make me go, Sam. I mean it.”
“You will go. I’ll make sure of it.” He hangs up.
I stare at the phone. What’s this really about? Why is he so freaked about the videos and my date with Tony? So what if they went viral? Byron’s video did the same, and Sam didn’t flip out and try to ship me off to another continent.
Five minutes later, my email pings. I check it and see a one-way ticket to Tokyo in business class, departing from LAX around midnight. Guess he didn’t hear a word I said. So typical, I think bitterly. Well, good luck trying to drag me to the airport, kicking and screaming. No airline is going to board me against my will.
But from the urgency and panic in his voice, I can’t help but wonder if he might try to do just that.
