Sweet Sinful Nights - Lauren Blakely Page 0,107

hello.

Her mother launched into rapid-fire chatter. “I can’t wait to see my sweet babies. Are you and Ry-Ry on your way? Will I see you any minute? I’ve been waiting all morning for my babies. I even put on lipstick today. I can’t wait to see you. I’m so excited I had to call. I hope you don’t mind.”

Shannon sighed, a sad, wistful sound. Her mom couldn’t even get the date right. “Mom, it’s Monday. We’re coming on Monday. When Ryan is back in town.”

Her mother gasped. “No, no, no. It’s today. Did he tell you Monday?”

“You did, Mom. You told him and you told me in your letters. Last day of the month. That’s what you said.”

“I meant today. It’s today. Last Friday of the month,” she said, with the speed of an express train. “Today, today, today. They gave me my final two hours today. Mondays are bad. No one likes Mondays. It’s today. By five p.m.,” she said, her voice turning into a low wail. “There’s so much to say, baby. So much to say. I have to see you and Ry. It’s urgent. You have to come, you have to come today, you have to come today. It could change everything.”

Everything.

There was no way this could change everything.

Her mouth tasted bitter. Her skin felt clammy and cold.

But that desperate, frantic tone clawed into her. She pressed her palm against her door, holding on firmly. What if? What if? What if? That question echoed in her mind, in the house, across the whole damn expanse of time. Shannon didn’t believe for a second that anything had changed, and yet...

What if it had?

She glanced at her watch. It was eight-thirty. She could rush over to Edge for fifteen minutes since it was on the way out of town. The valets could babysit her car so she wouldn’t lose much time there. She could be on the road by nine-fifteen and at the prison by one-thirty, two p.m. at the latest.

“Mom, I need to put you on hold for one second.”

She set the phone down, snapped open her laptop on the kitchen table, and opened a browser window for her airline. She tapped in the destination and the date—today—at cheetah speed. She waited for the beach ball to turn, and spit out the results. She pumped her fist. There was one seat left on the Red-Eye to New York. If she spent an hour at prison, she’d be back on the road by three or four, then pulling up to the airport with time to spare before the midnight flight.

She could still make Brent’s picnic.

She picked up the phone. “Yes, Mom. I’ll be there,” she said, then switched her flight, and paid the change fee.

* * *

With the crackle of gate announcements overhead, Brent fired off a few, quick emails to James and his real estate attorneys on the various expansion plans. The Chicago club was coming together more quickly than expected, and all the approvals were in place.

He wrote back. “Great. If only New York would go so smoothly.”

But that was what this weekend was for. To seal the deal. To say hello to the families of the neighborhood, and let them know he was good for business and ran a tight, clean ship. He was flying in ahead of Shannon to finish up some key paperwork with Tanner and meet with some potential vendors for the club in New York.

Five minutes later, the boarding had begun and as he walked down the Jetway, he called Shannon. “Hey, babe. I’m about to get on the plane. Can’t wait to see you tonight.”

“Actually,” she said in a heavy voice, “I won’t be there till first thing in the morning. I had to change my flight to the red-eye.”

Something inside of him tightened with worry. “What happened? Is everything okay?”

“My mom called. The date was wrong. I’m going to see her today.”

His spine straightened. “You are?”

“Yeah. She was pretty worked up that I wasn’t there today with Ryan. I guess there was a mix-up with the date. She said she has something to tell me that will—” She paused and he could practically see her sketching air quotes as she said, “Change everything.”

“Shan,” he said softly as he neared the plane. “You can’t go alone. Ryan’s not even in town.”

“It’s okay. I can handle it,” she said, in a cheery voice. “Seriously. Don’t worry about me. I’m sure it’s nothing new. Nothing I haven’t heard a million times before.”

“Hmm,” he

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