Page 70 of Marcus: Sins of the Father

Marcus shoots me one of his gorgeous smiles—the kind that can talk me into just about anything. “I called the girls.”

“The girls? Like the ol’ ladies?”

“No. Not them. They’re old enough to be your mom, for Christ’s sake.”

“Hey, watch it.” My dad warns. “You’re hanging out with me, and I am her dad.”

“Sorry. No offense.” Marcus holds his hands up. “These are the club princesses. They’re around our age, a couple years younger.”

“I’ve never even met them,” I squeak.

“Well, no time like the present. They’re on their way. Should be here in about an hour to take you out for a girl’s day.”

“A girl’s day? Where are we going? What should I wear? Marcus, I don’t even know their names.”

“Just wear whatever you wear when you hang out with Izzy. And it’s Cole’s daughter, Melissa—you know, the one driving Billy insane? The other is Crash’s daughter, Harley Jean.”

“Okay, well, you guys best be on your way. I have to get ready now.” I stand up and take their mugs.

“Hey, I wasn’t done with that,” Marcus whines.

“You are now. I have to get ready for a day of who-knows-what with a bunch of strangers, thanks to you.”

Marcus comes to his feet and pulls me to him. “You’re going to have a good time. I promise.”

“Sure,” I grumble.

He drops a kiss to my lips.

“All right, let’s go.” My dad rises from his chair, and we pull apart.

The men move toward the door, and my dad tells Marcus on the way out, “Don’t worry about her. She acts like she’s annoyed, but I’m sure she’s excited to get to meet some people up here. I don’t think she’s met too many friends since she moved.”

“That’s because I’m always working,” I snap as he shuts the door. The sound of his laughter carries through.

I roll my eyes and race to my closet.

***

Almost an hour to the tee, there’s a light rap on my door.

Skidding to a stop in front of the hall mirror, I check my look on the way to the door. Black leather leggings, a beige oversized sweater, and some black ankle boots. I grab my matching black bag and sling it over my shoulder.

Swinging open the door, I come face-to-face with a truly beautiful woman. She has her blonde curls thrown up in a messy bun, but nothing else about her look is messy. She has on a white turtleneck bodysuit that clings to her curves like a second skin. Her high-waisted jeans are faded and torn at the knees. Her brown chunky-heeled boots complete the perfect look.

She gives me a big Julia Roberts’ smile. “Hi, I’m Melissa. Marcus called me.”

I hug the edge of the door. “Yeah, sorry about that. I don’t want you to feel like I’m a charity case.”

“Nonsense. I’ve been wanting to meet you. Brandy, right?” She extends her hand, and I take it.

“Yes, Brandy.”

“You ready to go?”

“Where are we headed?”

“Harley Jean is driving.” She gestures to a Dodge Charger idling in one of the spots. “Mine is out of commission at the moment. We were thinking nails, lunch, and some shopping, if that’s okay with you?”

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