Page 50 of The Right Sign

Jenny jumps to her feet when she sees us coming.

Yaya tilts her face up, smiling uncertainly. Her outward look of calm is starting to crack at the edges. I can see the tense line of her shoulders and the way she digs her fingers into her purse.

Should I run away with her? Make an excuse and drag her out of here before Lucy can sink her claws in?

It was probably too ambitious of me to sweep Yaya straight into a meeting with my sister.

It’sthemost important meeting on my docket.

Because this meeting determines whether I can keep Talia for three months.

And all Yaya had in preparation was a rushed contract on a mountain, a five-minute exchange of texts, and the threat of her best friend getting crushed with debt if she fails.

I lengthen my steps in the hopes of overtaking Lucy and getting to Yaya first.

Unfortunately, my watch decides now is the time to start blinking.

“The hell?” I grunt.

Lucy tilts her head in confusion.

Yaya glances at the watch and smirks.

I smack the darn thing to shut it off.

“Why does it keep doing that?” I growl at Lucy.

“I don’t know.” She reels back, nose pinched like I stepped in dung. “Did Talia give you that ugly thing?”

I shrug.

My niece spent the night in my condo, and I couldn’t exactly tell her no when she offered me this gift. Especially since she wasn’t reacting at all to the news that her mom would be gone for three months.

“Anyway,” Lucy sings and tosses her hair over her shoulder. “Back to the matter. Yaya was it?” My sister’s smile is as sharp as a predator’s.

A foreboding feeling slips through me.

“So…” Lucy drapes herself into a chair and rests an elbow on the couch back. “Are you really dating my brother?”

Yaya waits for Jenny’s interpretation and nods.

“Is it serious?”

Yaya signs and Jenny speaks. “It is.”

“Then,” Lucy drops her lounging facade and leans forward, a shark that smells blood, “tell me one thing about Dare that only the people closest to him would know.”

My eyes bug.

Yaya’s eyebrows twitch in surprise.

Jenny swallows hard.

Mosely wrings his hands.

And I get the same tightness in my throat as the day my first business deal crashed and burned.

We. Are. Screwed.