The Secret (The Evolution of Sin 2)

“Sebastian!” Mama scolded him, slapping the back of his hand even as her wide mouth smiled.

He winced and rubbed his hand dramatically but I wondered if he wasn’t delighted with her. Cosima and he had been without parents for so long that I thought it would either be irritating or incredible to have a mother, especially such an involved one like Mama, in their lives again.

“What? I don’t. He does not know how to properly love a woman. If he did, Elena would be a much happier woman, no?”

“Have you ever thought that might be Elena’s problem and not his?” I asked before I could help myself. When everyone’s eyes swiveled to me, I swallowed harshly. “I mean, you can’t rely on other people for your own happiness.”

I really needed to try to remember that. I’d been walking around like my former self, the pre-Sinclair Giselle who smiled only timidly and still felt like a scrawny, unappealing youngster. Just because I couldn’t have him didn’t mean that I had to revert to that. I had fallen in love with two people that week in Mexico, Sinclair and the new version of myself, one that I was genuinely proud of.

I sighed into the contemplative silence at the same time that Cosima did and we both smiled at each other.

“I’ve known him for years, you forget that I introduced him to Elena and I wouldn’t have done that unless I had faith in his character,” Cosima said as she glared at her male equivalent but he only shrugged casually, throwing a wink my way when it only made Cosima more irritated.

“Me? I like him. He is very cold. I can say this? No hugs for him, you understand?” Mama tried to explain even as she stroked my hair, twirling it around her fingers and draping it against her palm. She had always loved my red hair and I knew she was happy I had stopped dying it black.

I thought about the Sinclair I knew and tried not to take away too much hope that the warmth I had experienced with him was a one off, reserved not even for his girlfriend but just for me, his week-long mistress, his holiday affair. He had wanted me to love him, making love to me until the wealth of my affection for him was all I felt, all I could articulate. Why had he done it?

I couldn’t decide now who the villain was. Me, for pursuing him, for allowing myself to love another woman’s partner, or him, the gorgeous devil who had so thoroughly, so easily, seduced the simple European girl on the way to a fresh start?

“I’m late,” Elena announced by way of apology, as she slid into the vacant chair at our table. The rich material of her cashmere coat whispered as she swung it off her delicate shoulders and around the back of the chair. In a high necked lace blouse and stove pipe black pants she looked like an Italianate Audrey Hepburn.

“Yes, and I don’t believe I forgive you,” Cosima warned.

A reluctant grin tapped Elena in the cheek as she immediately moved forward to place warm kisses on her youngest sister’s cheeks.

“Better.”

This time she actually laughed, a sound I was pretty sure I hadn’t heard before.

“You are such a dork.” She shook her head and reached over to take Mama’s hand in hers. “Seb, how are you and flavor-of-the-week?”

He snorted but didn’t take offense. “How did you know her name is Flavor?”

“Easily, all your bimbos clearly had unintelligent parents. That kind of stupid is genetic.”

“Just because they aren’t rocket scientists doesn’t mean they aren’t highly imaginative in… other areas.”

&nbs

p; “Slut.”

“Prude.”

“Ragazzi!” Mama scolded tiredly. “Enough. I must go to the kitchen and help men there. You sit, Elena, and eat, si?”

“Si, Mama,” we chorused.

“What happened to Savannah?” Cosima asked as she topped off our glasses of rich red wine.

Sebastian’s reaction was immediate. His thick straight brows crashed down over his molten eyes like boots stomping out a fire.

“Nothing.”

“Who is Savannah?” I batted my eyelashes at my brother. “Your lover?”

“Shut up.”

“Oh, someone is touchy.” Elena frowned at her nails, smoothing down a slightly ragged cuticle on her otherwise delicate and perfectly manicured hands. “And I don’t see why. Savannah Richardson is one of the most well-respected women in the city, Sebastian, hardly a dirty little secret.”