The Sinner (Notorious 1)

Yeah, I know. Morbid. Mean too, maybe. But the guy lied. Put his liar’s mouth all over me. I got to be mean in return.

I stepped into the dining room and he looked up from where he sat at Margot’s left.

My stupid heart hammered inside my chest.

His face was deeply tanned from working outside, except for small wrinkles and creases around his eyes that somehow made him more attractive. His hair had lightened from mahogany to oak and against all that tan skin his eyes were the brilliant color of spring grass.

“Hello, Savannah,” he said, his voice felt like his tongue licking my stomach.

“Matt,” I said and I smiled, briefly, awkwardly, to smooth my rough edges.

Katie stuck out her tongue.

“Don’t,” I said in my stern mommy voice, and Katie flounced to her seat at Margot’s right.

The atmosphere in the room was strange and volatile. Cold winds, warm breezes and a great dark cloud where Matt sat.

I had no clue how to make any of it better.

“Now,” Margot said, her smile wide and gracious. “Isn’t this nice.”

MATT

It was hell.

I could not take my eyes off Savannah. This version of her, slightly messy, almost undone—God, it was such a surprise. Such a turn-on.

I felt like a fourteen-year-old boy. And, even in my exhausted state, my body was reacting like a fourteen-year-old’s and I wanted to dump the cold Thai noodle salad right into my lap.

“Are you enjoying the dinner, Matt?” Margot asked.

“It’s delicious,” I said, and it was, I’d just prefer to eat Savannah.

I lifted a cold shrimp and a bunch of herby green things to my mouth.

“It’s one of Savannah’s specialties,” Margot said, inclining her head toward Savannah where she sat at the foot of the table. Seriously, Margot was, like, old-world charming. They simply didn’t make them like her anymore.

“No, it’s not,” Savannah said, laughing slightly. She turned to me her blue eyes hesitantly warm, cautious but friendly. I realized that’s exactly how she was tonight —a warm fire, banked.

Her finding out about the accident had made her pity me.

“I don’t cook,” Savannah said. “She’s trying to match-make.”

I choked on the shrimp.

“Don’t worry,” Savannah said, shooting her grandmother a knock-it-off look. “It’s compulsive. Like lying. She can’t help herself.”

“It’s a gift,” Margot said.

“A curse,” Savannah interjected.

“Tell that to John F. Kennedy.”

“John F. who?” I asked.

“Kennedy,” Margot said.

“Margot,” Savannah said, taking the reins of the story, “claims to have introduced JFK to Marilyn Monroe.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said, laughing despite myself.

“Hardly,” Margot answered. “I knew Marilyn through Arthur—”

“Miller?” I asked, astounded.

“He was a good friend for a number of years,” Margot answered with a glint in her eye.

“She’s always been a patron of the arts,” Savannah said with a wicked smile.

“No need to be crude,” Margot chastised. “He was a dear friend and Marilyn was a lovely, if slightly tortured girl.”

“But how did you know the president?” I asked.

“He was a friend, too. Although that was before he was president.”

My fork clattered to my plate. I’d known she’d run in high and varied circles, but JFK? I glanced at Savannah, wondering if I wasn’t being put on. Just a little.

“All true, I’m afraid.” Savannah said. “She put the Notorious in the Notorious O’Neills.”

“Not all by myself,” Margot said, her look pointed, and Savannah wiped her mouth discreetly and focused on eating.

The tension in the room returned, prickly and aware.

Forks hitting plates and Katie quietly slurping noodles were the only noises. Savannah’s warmth was all but gone; a chill blew off her. Blew off all of them. I realized I should leave, so the women could go back to doing what they normally did when I wasn’t there to ruin dinner.

But the sleeping porch had no appeal right now. None. Hot, dark and lonely. And sitting here was—well, it was fun. And I was so hungry.

I had no reason to stay other than I enjoyed it. And it had been a long time since my only motivation was enjoyment.

“I designed a house for a certain famous couple.” The words fell out of me and popped the tension. Three pairs of feminine and fascinated eyes swung my way. Even Katie put her hostility away as they cajoled the names of the pair from me.

“You’re kidding?” Savannah asked.

“Do tell,” Margot insisted. “Is he as handsome in real life?”

“More so,” I answered. “They’re both beautiful. Ridiculously beautiful. I would marry him.” My honesty earned a laugh.

I had seconds, then thirds of the salad as I answered their questions about designing for the fabulously wealthy. Savannah brought out dishes of lime sherbet and I got Margot to tell me about her brief affair with a certain Bond actor.

“Let’s just say,” Margot said, eyebrow cocked as she stood to clear the dishes, “he took the James Bond thing very seriously. If you know what I mean.”