Filthy Secret

The way Shawn had so casually referred to himself and Frankie as “our” was not lost on Jo even though Frankie wasn’t Isla’s biological mother. “I’m excited to see her, too. She’s a great kid.”

“Oh, perfect timing,” said Frankie, looking at a spot over Jo’s shoulder. Jo turned, her expression entirely WTF until her eyes landed on the sin-hot blond guy behind her, and dear, sweet Jesus, could her sister not warn a girl?

“Uh, for what?” Jo semi-stammered. But come on. Between the just- just-long-enough-to-be-sexy-not-scruffy hair curling over his ears, the dark- -chocolate eyes fixed directly on hers, and the black T-shirt molded to his lean, ropy muscles, she couldn’t be blamed for her lack of composure. For God’s sake, the man’s forearms were practically foreplay.

Frankie, who had X-ray vision into Jo’s head after decades of practice, at least had the good graces to tuck her smile between her lips. “For ordering. Jo, this is Sawyer Knox. He’s one of the bar managers here at the Crooked Angel. Sawyer, this is my sister, Josephine Rossi.”

“The soon-to-be-famous actress,” Sawyer said, making Jo want to die quietly on the spot. How long had he been standing there?

“Not exactly,” Jo said. The last thing she needed was to call attention to the fact that she had a snowball’s chance in hell of landing this role. “But, um, hi.”

Sawyer’s mouth settled into a half-smile that did criminal things to Jo’s insides. “I’ve never met a not-exactly-soon-to-be-famous actress before,” he said, reaching out to shake her hand.

Because Jo’s level of nerves was directly proportional to her tendency for sarcasm, she said, “I can’t imagine that’s the case. Women like me? We’re everywhere.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Sawyer said kindly.

Jo flushed. “I meant actresses who aren’t famous yet. There are…there are a lot of us, so, you know. We’re everywhere.”

“Ah,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Well, what can I get you, Jo?”

“A glass of merlot would be great.” One big enough for me to drown myself in, please, and thank you. Seriously, this guy couldn’t be more than twenty-five, and he was probably nice to all the customers. She had no business getting all fluttery over his smile.

“You got it. How about you, Frankie?”

Everyone else placed their orders, and Jo managed a polite “Nice to meet you” as Sawyer departed for the bar at the back of the restaurant. Frankie and Addison started talking about the best menu items-a solid tie between the Cuban sandwich and the French dip-and Isabella excused herself to change the baby’s diaper. Shawn had just turned to ask Jo how her flight had been when a chorus of cell phone chimes and buzzes went off around the table.

“What the…oh, my God,” Frankie said, her eyes going wide as both Addison and Matteo slid back from the table, phones in hand.

“I’ll call Annette and let her know,” Shawn said, grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, and holy crap, they all looked so serious.

Jo stole a deep breath. “What’s going on?”Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“I am so sorry,” Frankie said. “We have to go. I can’t say more, but there’s been an emergency downtown, and they need backup-”

“No, no. I understand. Just be careful, okay.” Jo’s heart was beating at about ninety miles an hour. How they could all be so calm about the danger they faced on the daily was a bit mind-blowing, honestly.

“I promise, we will. We have each other’s backs.”

With how intense Shawn’s dark blue stare had just become at Frankie’s promise, that did make Jo feel better, if only by a millimeter. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you later.”

Frankie reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a key ring, handing it over to Jo. “Here’s the key to my old place. It’s not a palace, but it’s clean and quiet.”

“Two things my house in Savannah isn’t,” Jo offered with a smile to lighten the mood. “Go. Don’t worry about me,” she added, because her sister wasn’t the only one who could do the sibling mind-meld thing, and the last thing she wanted was for Frankie to head into an emergency distracted. “I’ll get dinner, then call a Lyft.”

Frankie nodded, turning toward the door. “Okay. We’ll catch up tomorrow, I swear.”

“Bye,” Jo said, shooing her on her way with the rest of the detectives.

As soon as they’d crossed the threshold, Jo eyed the empty table, then the bustling restaurant around her. Sitting here at this huge table by herself seemed silly, not to mention pretty embarrassing. She could just go to the bar and grab a quick dinner there. Sure, she was alone, but plenty of people went out to eat by themselves. She’d never done it, personally, but there was no reason why she couldn’t be bold and badass like her older sister and start now.

Except for the fact that she was neither bold nor badass. She was sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant all alone, about to face what might well be her very last audition ever, and that settled it. Takeout and wine in her pajamas might be just as pathetic as dining alone, but at least no one would be around to witness that.

Jo turned toward the back of the restaurant. All she had to do was cancel her order at the bar, then make a quick stop in the restroom, and she’d be on her way to where she belonged.

Her comfort zone.