Cherry Creek - Dani Matthews Page 0,33

opening up a new can of worms. One of these days, I’m going to learn that oversharing with Roman can lead to stupid conversations like this one.

“Why not?” Roman asks, his eyes now challenging me as if he can tell I'm uncomfortable.

Is this the type of conversation they find appropriate? I look at Khristos, and he's once again sipping his wine, unconcerned by the odd topic of whether I've bought lingerie recently. “Because I'm fine with what I have,” I say a bit awkwardly.

Roman shakes his head, his attention shifting to his own glass of water. “I see I have a lot of work ahead of me,” he says as he takes a drink.

“Roman,” Khristos murmurs with a hint of disapproval in his tone.

I look away, feeling beyond uncomfortable. What did Roman mean? Why is Khristos just now deciding to end the conversation? And what was up with that look they'd exchanged when I'd mentioned my headache? There's something going on, and I am unwittingly caught up in the middle of it somehow.

***

I've decided I am going to hire a private investigator to find my mom. I'm not big on using Khristos's money, but I figure I'll use as much of it as I need to in order to find my mom. However, we'd gotten back late last night, and today I work a full shift at the store. I'll have to research private investigators later tonight. I’m hoping I can hire one here in Cherry Creek. It would be worth going to Minneapolis to hire one, but it would certainly make things easier if there was someone in town that I could hire.

At the store, I decide to see if I can pump Selena for some information on Khristos. Maybe she could give me a little insight into his world.

“Have you always lived in Cherry Creek?” I ask while Selena and I work together to set up a new display of lacy panties on a round, cloth-covered table.

“Just for the past five years,” she says as she carefully spreads out a pair of panties on top of the one she'd just put down a second ago.

“Oh. Do you know much about my uncle? Khristos Deveroux?”

“He owns Bane. I love that club.” She looks up and gives me a sly look, her dark pink lips parting as she flashes perfectly, white teeth. “Maybe you could introduce us sometime.”

Yeah, I don't think so. “Sure, if he ever stops in or something,” I say as I pull another handful of panties out of the shipment box they'd arrived in.

Selena looks pleased as she goes back to strategically placing the scant pieces of fabric on the table. “What's he like?”

“What do you mean?” I set the panties on the table and grab the first one off the pile to display on my side of the table.

“You live with him. Do you spend much time with him?”

“No, not really. He seems like he's always busy.”

“I heard he has an on and off again girlfriend. Is that true?” Selena asks with great interest.

I glance at her to see that she's hanging on every word I say. She knows absolutely nothing, and now I'm the one getting grilled. Figures. “Ah, I think so. I haven't been here long, so I don't really know that much about him.”

The bell above the door dings, and we both look up as a couple of women enter the shop. Selena pats the pile of panties that still need to be set out. “I'll let you finish this,” she says as she saunters away towards the women.

I go back to working on the display as I hear all three women laugh while Selena leads them towards the back of the store. A bit later, I've just finished helping a woman in her mid-thirties pick out a lingerie set for a bridal shower she's attending, when I turn around and come up short.

A beautiful girl my age stands before me. She has long, glossy, ink black hair that falls almost to her waist while beautifully exotic, brown eyes study me with bold interest. She's taller than me by a few inches, and she's dressed to impress. Her blouse shows off her full breasts, and she's wearing tight, black pants with knee-high boots over them. The purse hanging over her arm probably costs more than my entire wardrobe. Not the one Sorcha bought, but the one that I've compiled through the years with my own cash.

The girl smiles at me, but it’s the