"Sophie White," Sophie replied, and I inwardly winced. Louis hadn't said her first name before, I was hoping they didn't know. Either way, they did now, obviously. "Mister....?"
"Lefort. I should be going. Again, sorry to have disturbed your weekend. Mark, we'll be in touch when you have some free time, okay?"
Louis and his man left, closing the door behind them. It wasn't until I could latch and lock the door that I realized I had been holding my breath for almost a minute. Turning around, I saw Sophie standing behind the sofa, her arms crossed under her breasts. While normally a very attractive sight, the look on her face was dark and suspicious. "Who was that?"
"Like Louis said, just a business associate. Why?"
Sophie rolled her eyes and looked at me, and I could tell that she was getting angry. "You can stop lying to me now. I've never seen you upset or even rattled, until those two men showed up at your door. Now what the hell is going on?"
"Nothing," I said, trying to end the conversation. "I just was surprised, that's all. I'd been looking forward to an easy weekend."
Instead of replying, Sophie turned on her heel and stormed back to the bedroom. Before I could even get my jacket off, I heard her yanking open drawers, and the familiar sound of clothes being tossed into a bag. I rushed back to find Sophie jamming her t-shirts into a bag that she had used to bring some things over to my place. "What are you doing?"
She looked up at me, her eyes filled with fury. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm packing my stuff. It's obvious you don't really see me as a real girlfriend. I should've never agreed to stay the weekend. I'm not going to stick around through one of these again."
I wanted to slam my hand against the door frame. I was frustrated with myself, frustrated at Sophie, but also angry as hell at Louis and Salvatore. Instead of letting my anger go physically, I clenched my fists as hard as I could behind my back. "Sophie, I do see you as a real girlfriend. Just because I haven't told you everything about my life doesn't mean I don't need you and want you."
"But you don't respect me," Sophie countered, zipping the bag closed angrily. "If you did, you wouldn't be lying to me right now. So let me ask again, who were those men?"
I was tempted to tell her about my work, but I knew if I answered her question, her life was in danger, and it'd likely push her away even more. "Sophie, I can't.....there are things about my life that I just can't tell you. I'm not trying to lie, I just can't." I didn't know what else to say. I felt defeated, laid bare, and there was nothing I could do about it. My mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water for a few seconds, before I just sighed. "I'm sorry."
Sophie looked at me, her anger softening, but she still took her bag and slung the strap over her shoulder. "Me too. But until you can tell me more.....I need to go."
Chapter 3
Sophie
By the time I got to the Shamrock that early evening for my shift, I was still in a downright shitty mood. The whole time going back to my apartment and then changing for work, my mind was whirling. Tabby had been disappointed that Mark wouldn't be at the pub, but told me she'd still come by around nine that night. In the mean time, I spent half my time calling myself a damn fool for walking out on Mark. He was more than a great lover. We enjoyed spending time together, whether we were hanging out and watching movies or having dinner he prepared for me, to just sitting around talking.
The other half of the time, I was telling myself I did the right thing. He kept secrets from me, that was obvious. I'd overlooked it for most of the month we'd been together since it was never in my face and as obvious as it was earlier. After all, every business has certain things they don't want other people to know. I'd dated a guy when I was an undergrad on and off for three months that worked at a Chinese restaurant. He told me that even though he'd worked there for five years, ever since high school, he'd never been allowed to learn what the chef used as his Mongolian barbecue sauce. Until Louis Lefort showed up at Mark's doorstep, I figured it was something as insignificant as that. But there was something about those two men, an almost palpable aura of danger and evil that made me feel uncomfortable the whole time they were inside. They looked like two men who really didn't care if I were alive or dead.
Also, what was up with Mark and that leather jacket? I'd never seen him wear it before, and the way he reached for the sleeves before stopping told me he had something in there, something he didn't want me or Lefort to see. It was just another thing that worried me, just like the worried expression that was on Mark's face the whole time they were there. I'd seen Mark confident, I'd seen him restful, I'd seen him thoughtful. But I'd never seen him worried or scared before.