Black Jack (Advantage Play #5) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,34

no idea.

“Tell me,” I push.

“Just”––he shrugs––“be yourself.”

“I think we both know that’s a bad idea.”

“Why?”

I scoff. “Because I’m a Castello.”

“He already knows you’re a Castello.”

“Yes, but he doesn’t know I’m still a Castello,” I clarify, anxious that he might not see the gravity of the situation. “And by that, I mean that I hadn’t exactly distanced myself from the family business before you and I got engaged.”

“I know that, and you know that, but Embry doesn’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“No offense, Bianca, but you’re a woman in the mob. Even the Feds know that you rarely have anything to do with the family business.”

Again, he has no idea who he’s dealing with.

“So…what’s our story?” I ask, changing the subject since it’s obviously not going anywhere helpful.

“I told him that I’d reached out to you for information when I was undercover and we fell in love. Once I realized my feelings, I told you about my true identity and––”

“And I forgave you for it?” A very unladylike snort spills out of me. “No offense, Jacky Boy. But if you had lied to me about something that huge, do you really think I’d forgive you for it?”

Pretending to be offended, he clutches at his chest before turning to me. “Ouch, Bianca. I’d like to think that your fake love for me was enough to convince you to give me a second chance.”

“Love?” I laugh. “Please tell me you don’t actually believe in that bullshit.”

Unoffended, he shrugs and turns into a quiet neighborhood. “I dunno. I’d like to think it’s out there somewhere. Maybe not for me, but for someone,” he clarifies as he pulls into the driveway that I assume belongs to his boss.

“You poor, naive man. You almost convinced me that my initial judgment about you was off, but then you come out and tell me you actually believe in love and that it has the ability to conquer a lie like that. Sorry, Jacky Boy, but you’re sorely mistaken.”

“And how would you know?”

Because I’ve been paid to sleep with unhappily married men. I’ve been used to entertain assholes while their significant others were on a girls’ trip or enjoying a day at the spa. More often than not, a gold band adorned their left ring finger, and if I was ever bitchy enough to bring it up, they’d swear they still loved their wife. That they were just going through a rough patch and needed the physical release.

My mouth pulls into a thin line, but I swallow back the truth. Not only because it would air out dirty laundry I have no intention of ever bringing to light, but also because a small part of me feels like I’d be telling this strong, handsome man that Santa isn’t real. That love doesn’t exist. Not the unselfish kind, anyway. And what’s the harm in letting him believe it if the lie gives him warm fuzzies?

With a sigh, I shrug one shoulder and take in the modest-sized home looming in front of us. “Just a hunch. Shall we get going?”

“Yeah,” he replies. “Oh. And one more thing. You’re not close with your brother.”

I snort. “Yeah. That lie isn’t exactly a stretch. Let’s go.”

15

Bianca

The air is heavy with anticipation as Jack guides me to the front door.

Knock. Knock.

He taps his knuckles against it, then rocks back on his heels and gives me a tight smile. He’s kind of adorable when he’s nervous. I’m not used to seeing that kind of vulnerability in a man. It’s…refreshing.

There’s a slight squeak from the hinges as the door opens, and it distracts me from going down the rabbit hole that is Jack Connelly. Subtly, I shake my head and turn to the man of the hour who invited us over for an interrogation under the guise of a friendly dinner. I just can’t decide if I should be impressed or outraged.

“Glad you could make it, Jack,” he announces, offering his weathered hand.

Jack takes it. “Thanks for inviting us. Mr. Embry, this is Bianca. Bianca, this is my…,” he hesitates and clears his throat. “This is Wallace Embry.”

“I work with him in the Bureau,” Embry explains while completely ignoring Jack’s discomfort.

“So I’ve been told,” I reply with the same ease emanating from Embry’s body. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Always a pleasure. Come inside.” He steps away to give us some space to enter his place, then leads us down a short hall that’s lined with photographs of Wallace, an older, yet beautiful woman with gray hair and