Tamia cringed at the sound of Shanell’s voice. She’d been lazing on Dominic’s plush sofa that afternoon when her phone rang. Even before she’d checked the display screen, she’d known it was Shanell. And she knew she was in for an epic tongue lashing. “Hey, girl,” she said meekly. “Don’t you ‘hey, girl’ me after you’ve been ignoring my calls for the past three days!” Guilt swept over Tamia. “I’m really sorry about that, Shanell.” “You should be. Not only for avoiding my calls, but for lying about where you were going on Saturday when you snuck out of my house. I couldn’t believe it when Marcellus called to tell me that he ran into you at a model home on Saturday. What the hell were you doing there with Dominic Archer? And wearing an engagement ring?” Tamia grimaced. “It’s a long story.” “I got time, heffa. So start talking.” Tamia heaved a resigned breath, then sat up and reached for the glass of wine on the ottoman. She took a long sip, stalling.
