“Instead of giving them a hard time and making them dig in their heels, play for time. Marcus hasn't given me a ring yet, and you know what? If he thinks he can’t get ahead with Grandpa, he might not. So, stall them. At least go meet this guy. You might even go on a few dates with him. Maybe if Marcus sees he has competition with Grandpa, he might pop the question faster.”
Chrissy just stared at her sister and blinked. Gloria could be manipulative, but she didn’t realize until now that her sister was a master tactician. She was also surprised her sister knew Marcus’ reasons for dating her. “Are you sure you’re willing to gamble Marcus, the family?” she said slowly.
“It’s not a gamble. I’ve wanted nothing but Marcus. I love him, Chrissy. And he loves me in his own way. If you could help me out, I’d be very grateful.”
Chrissy stared at her sister, not believing she was about to agree to her crazy scheme. She didn’t approve of Marcus; then again, she didn’t have to live with him. That was her sister’s cross to bear, and she wanted to shoulder it willingly. “Fine. I’ll help you out. But under one condition.”
“Anything. What?”
“When it comes time to get me out of this mess, you’ll help me do it.”
Gloria clapped her hands. “Yes! Yes! Anything you need. Yes!”
Because her sister was happy, Chrissy didn’t mention the sinking feeling in her stomach. Somehow, all of this would not work out well.
“I found out where he’ll be. We’ll go check him out after dinner.”
“What? Tonight?” Chrissy glanced down again at what she was wearing. She didn’t want to see this guy. She’d play their game, but there had to be a way out this. She just needed time to think.
“Yes,” Gloria squealed in delight. “It’ll be an undercover mission. That way you’ll have advanced intel when you meet him officially.”
“You’re nuts.” Chrissy shook her head. They were playing with fire here. Fire and her life. Dangerous combination in her opinion.
“Come on. It’ll be fun. Besides, what else are you doing tonight?”
Chrissy admitted to herself that she had nothing else to occupy her time, and she had tomorrow off, so she had no early commute to use as an excuse. Also, she was slightly curious about this “respectable” Rocco. “Okay. Let’s go see what this guy looks like.”
What was she getting herself into?
She was fucked.
Good and fucked.
CHAPTER FIVE
A band played Eagle covers in the corner of the Red Bull set up with a small stage. Though it was a Sunday, a good crowd filled the bar. John Rocco tended to the endless rounds of drink orders while two waitresses hustled through the room, taking orders and delivering drinks. Saks sat at the long wood bar and nursed beers John pushed at him in regular intervals enough to ease his pissed-offedness at his father and uncle.
It was not enough to ward off the women, though. After the third lovely, he started ignoring them.
When a pretty blonde sat on the stool next to his and didn’t even bother to flick him a glance, it caught his attention.
She was lean, with a nice set of perfectly sized breasts. Pretty, long blonde hair with dark roots hung over her shoulders, covering her chest slightly. Her cheekbones and forehead were set high, and her nose long yet straight, giving her a slightly Italian look. As she glanced around the bar, he glimpsed her dark eyebrows framing liquid caramel eyes. Her pink lips were full, the lower lip especially pouty.
A flicker of lust shot thought him at the promise of that tender flesh.
But she didn’t give him so much as a sideways glance, and he tried to stare straight ahead, but failed. Every so often he cast a glance in her direction. Those full lips and eyebrows twisted in a frown as her eyes scanned the crowd.
He couldn’t resist.
“Waiting for someone?” he asked.
She glanced at him and then purposely ignored the question.
The action only enticed him more. He shifted in his chair so he could look her in the eyes. “I haven’t seen you here before.”
Her eyes filled with fierceness leveled with his. “I don’t come here,” she said acidly, indicating she wouldn’t be caught dead in the Red Bull.
“And yet you’re here,” he said with a sly smile. He couldn’t help smiling. There was something about this woman that piqued his interest.
She ignored him and motioned to John, but he was pulling drafts and didn’t see her. “How does a girl get a drink around here?” she muttered.
Saks blew a short, sharp whistle and John’s head snapped toward him. Saks nodded toward the woman, and John moved toward them.
“What’re you drinking?”
“White wine, please.”
Please. She actually said, ‘please.’ The incongruity of that and the white wine now confirmed Saks’ initial impression. This was not the typical female denizen of bars everywhere.
“Oh, so you can be polite,” he murmured.
“Excuse me?” she retorted, glancing around again.
“Sorry,” said Saks, in a slightly mocking tone. “Didn’t mean to tick you off.”