Melinda Di Lorenzo - Bad Reputation

“A promise is a promise,” I said.

“Yes it is.”

For one second, I thought I heard a hint of smugness in her voice, and I was immediately regretful of agreeing to meet her. I held my temper in check and refused to back down. I clenched my teeth together and made myself bury the irritation under a chuckle.

“You’ll have to remind me where I said I’d be,” I told her cockily. “Lots of promises mean lots of forgetfulness.”

She drew in an irritated breath, and this time I chuckled for real.

“It’s the market in the commons,” she reminded me, just shy of completely impatient.

I should apologize .

I couldn’t make myself do it.

“All right, sweetheart,” I said. “I’ll be there. I’ll even dress nicely so you don’t regret inviting me along.”

“Oh, I won’t,” she assured me, and hung up.

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