Page 121 of Masters of Secrets

Dammit. Now, he’d disappointed her. Was he really going to put off being at Stronghold just because of his own insecurities? Especially when it was clear that was where she wanted to be?

She’d already done Marquis twice for him. Now, he needed to give.

Connor: Hanging out at Stronghold would be fun.

There. He hadn’t said he wanted to scene there. Just hang out. That was hopefully clear enough.

He stared at his phone for a long moment. That was probably clear enough, right? He didn’t need to outright say he didn’t want to scene. Besides, they were supposed to be dating and getting to know each other, not just scening and having sex. People dated without scening.

They didn’t usually go to a sex club for that date, though.

Maybe he should say something.

“Whatcha doing?”

Connor jumped, spinning around guiltily and tucking the phone behind his back as his thumb hit the button on the side to turn off the screen. He looked down at Sandra, who was standing just behind him, hands on her hips, one eyebrow raised. As usual, her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, so none of her suspicious expression was hidden.

“Nothing.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Sandra’s eyes immediately widened, sparking with interest.

“Oooh, you were texting her, weren’t you?”

“I’m on my break,” he replied, rather than answering the question, stepping to the side to move around her. Not that Sandra let him. She stepped with him, hands still on her hips, keeping herself between him and the door.

“Obviously.” She narrowed her gaze. “You’re in the breakroom. The question is, why were you in the breakroom, nowhere near the table, and instead over by the wall, hunched over your phone.”

Because he’d been texting with Mistress Julie and doing it completely out in the open had felt wrong. Not just because he was at work, either.

“I just had to check something on my phone, and I happened to be standing there.” It was sort of true. He hadn’t intended to look quite so conspicuous, but after throwing out the trash from his snack, he’d felt his phone go off, and he’d stopped moving to check it… then turned toward the wall when he’d seen who it was.

“Hey, Connor… can I ask you a favor?” A pretty blonde poked her head in the door, smiling her brightest smile. Inwardly, Connor groaned. Whenever Beth wanted a favor, it was usually a pain in the ass.

“He can’t do it,” Sandra said without turning around, and Beth’s face fell, turning sad and pleading.

“Well, I don’t know what it is yet. What do you need, Beth?” he asked, moving around Sandra again. This time, with a witness there, she didn’t block his way. Which meant he owed Beth since she was saving him from the Sandra Interrogation.

“I have Mrs. Malley this week every day at five. Would you mind taking her instead, so I don’t have to rush to pick up Robert?” Robert being her son, who needed to be picked up by six fifteen every day. With most clients, a five o’clock appointment wouldn’t be a problem for that, but Mrs. Malley could be… difficult.

“Sure, no problem.”

Behind him, Sandra made another aggrieved noise as Beth brightened.

“Thank you, Connor! I’ll go tell Aubrey to make the change!” She scurried away, as if afraid he was going to change his mind. Or maybe that Sandra would intervene.

“You’re too nice. You know that, right?” Sandra asked, following him out the door into the main room, around the equipment that was scattered throughout. She kept her voice low, though, since there were a few clients being run through their stretches on the other side of the room.

He shrugged.

“I don’t mind.” Yeah, he’d need to stay an hour later than he normally did, but that was fine. It wasn’t like he had anyone to rush home to. Beth’s husband apparently wasn’t around much, or very helpful, so he could help make her life a little easier.

“You should have at least had her trade one of her morning clients with you.”

“But then she would have to rush here after dropping Daniel off,” he replied reasonably. He knew because there’d been times in the past when he’d taken an early morning client off her hands. “I like helping. It makes me feel good. And you do want me to feel good, right?”

Sandra was silent for a moment before she grumbled, “I hate it when you do that.”

He grinned, still heading toward the front. He’d just felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, which meant Julie had probably texted him back, and he wanted to see what it said. Sandra couldn’t follow him into the bathroom.