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“Great. Let me show you the setup.”
I follow her across the yard to a booth with a table and chairs, the various paint supplies neatly organized. “Do you need anything else?” she asks.
“A hand mirror.” I need to practice on myself.
“Coming right up.” She marches off.
“There’s the birthday girl!” I exclaim as Iris comes bounding out of the house, holding Darius’ hand.
“Kat!” Iris runs over and hops into my arms.
“Don’t you look so cute!” I give her a big hug. She’s wearing a fancy pink princess dress with a crown, her blonde halo of hair curled around her adorable little face.
“I’m a princess today,” she tells me proudly.
“Girl, you’re a princess every day,” I correct her. “Aww. And look at the proud stepdad,” I tell my cousin who’s grinning from ear to ear. “You big ole softie.”
“Thanks, cousin.” He rubs his knuckles hard enough on the top of my head to start a fire, totally fucking up my hair.
“You…” I catch myself before I teach Iris a new four-letter word on her fifth birthday. “Be glad I’m holding a precious princess,” I warn him, and he laughs.
“That’s not nice; you messed up Kat’s hair,” Iris tells Darius, and I give my cousin a winning smirk.
“You’re right, rainbow goddess. I’m sorry, Kat,” Darius says.
“Iris, sweetie. Come here for just a second,” Lily calls from across the yard.
I let her down, and she takes off for her mom. Having taken my eyes off Darius, I’m now the recipient of another noogie.
“Malákas.” Laughing, I knock his hand away. I lose my smile when I spot Fabio across the way. His eyes are wide; guess he didn’t expect me to be here. That, or he’s shocked by my jacked-up hair.
Turning my attention back to my cousin, I say, “I’m on face-painting duty. Come be my test subject.” I take a seat behind the table, trying to smooth my wild curls.
“What’s that?” Darius calls loudly. “Sorry, Lily needs me.”
“Coward,” I mutter.
He chuckles, walking away.
Valentina returns with a hand mirror, a compact, and a small table mirror. “A full-length mirror is on the way.”
I’m about to tell her that’s overkill, but she snaps her fingers and shouts something in Italian. Sammy Moretti walks over carrying a large mirror. “Here you are,” he says, propping it up with a chair. “So principessa may admire herself.” He turns his icy blue eyes to me. “Katerina.”
“Mr. Moretti,” I say, ducking my head in respect.
“It’s for face painting, jackass,” Valentina snaps at Sammy. “Although had you consulted a mirror before you left the house, you might have rethought your outfit.” She looks him up and down, clearly unimpressed. Disagree with her on that one: the man’s scary as hell, but he’s also fine as hell in a snug T-shirt showcasing his muscles.
She turns her laser-focused attention to me. “Need anything else?”
“No, I’m in good shape,” I tell her.
Valentina’s phone buzzes, and she grabs it, sighing dramatically. “Now to put out the next fire. Excuse me.” She takes off, but stops abruptly and faces down Sammy. “Go. Away.” Dang, that girl’s got brass balls for speaking to “The Knife” like that. She starts walking again, and Sammy gives her a second before following.
I grab my phone and watch a few tutorials before standing in front of the mirror and painting myself a cat face—complete with whiskers and a black nose.
“Kitty Kat. All you need is a tail.” Fabio smirks at me in the mirror.
“This area is for face painting. Move along.” I shoo him away as I take a seat.
