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I look at Frank. “You told everyone about me already?”
“Of course. This is Sheila, Enzo’s wife. She’ll take you under her wing and let you in on what to do and what not to do. It would be best to listen and maybe take some notes if you don’t think you can remember all she tells you.” With a kiss on the top of my head, he walks away as if this is something that happens all the time.
I wait until he’s closed the door and is out of earshot before I ask Sheila the question I pray she’ll answer for me. “Is there a chance in hell that I’ll make it out of this alive, Sheila?”
Coming toward me with open arms, she nods and smiles. “I have been where you are now. I know what you’re going through.”
“Enzo took over your business, then made you fake marry him too?” I feel a bit of comfort as she puts one arm around me, ushering me farther into the dressing room.
“I didn’t have a business. But my father gave me to Enzo. The first time I saw the man was when I walked down the aisle. But I married him for real—there was nothing fake about our marriage. Believe me, I was freaking out. I’d been brought up knowing that I would be used as leverage by being married off to some man in the Cosa Nostra, but once the time came, none of my upbringing helped me deal with it.”
The idea of being given to a man sounds as horrible as having to give a man my business—and my body, to boot. “At least I had a choice.”
“Sure you did, sweetie. Just keep telling yourself that.” She clucks her tongue and points to the bathroom. “That’s the bathroom. You’ll find shampoo, conditioner, and body wash in the shower, along with a razor and some shaving cream. I’ll style your hair and do your makeup. I know the way the guys like it, so your look will change quite a bit. The style of clothes you wear will change too. But I’ll take care of all that.”
Unsure of what she meant about thinking I had a choice, I ask, “Are you saying that I never really had a choice?”
She raises her penciled-in eyebrows, places her hands on her hips, and gives me a no-nonsense look. “You must realize that they learned everything about you before they actually decided to use you.”
The idea that I have been so thoroughly checked out without realizing a thing makes me feel stupid. “I must have looked like the perfect victim to them.”
“Take my advice—don’t dwell on the negative. Try your best to see the positive. For instance, you’re about to marry a very handsome man with the body of a god. Frank can be charming when he wants to. He’s definitely not the worst of the bunch. I can tell you that.”
“Our marriage isn’t even going to be real. Sure, his takeover of my business will be legal and binding, but our marriage won’t be.” I’m not sure how to feel right now.
“Okay, so let’s think about the positive, Lisa.” Sheila seems to be one of those people who can make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.
I might as well go along with her. “Okay, the positive about our marriage not being real is that I can walk away from him whenever I want.”
“That’s right. You’re not stuck with him.”
“But I’ll lose my home and business if I leave him,” I remind her.
She holds up one finger and says, “The same thing could happen if you left a man you were legally married to.”
I’m having a tough time finding any positives about what’s happening to me and decide not to think about it anymore. “I guess I should shower so we can get to the other stuff.”
“Yes. Keeping a Vietti man waiting is never a good idea.”
I don’t want to make anyone angry, so I hurry through a shower and then put on a pair of panties and a bra that fit perfectly before donning the robe I find hanging on a hook on the back of the bathroom door. Sheila is still smiling when I exit the bathroom. She waves me over to a chair and table, where all sorts of makeup and hair products are displayed.
“Come, let me get to work. You’re going to make such a beautiful bride!”
An hour later, I’m all dolled up. Sheila helps me step into an amazing white wedding dress that fits me like a glove. “Wow,” I say, “you really outdid yourself with the fit of everything.”
“Thank you. I made Frank get me every size you had in your closet and dresser. I wanted to make things perfect for you. Like I said before, I’ve been where you are.” Holding a can of hairspray about three inches away from my head, she mists me with the sticky substance and then waves her hand as if that will dry it quickly. “You are now ready to go to your prince.”
The fact that she’s trying so hard to romanticize this rather horrifying situation is almost laughable. “My prince, huh?”
“You know you like the way he looks.”
“He’s easy on the eyes,” I confess.
With a nod, she adds, “And I’m sure you think he’s sexy too.”
“Well, yeah.” I don’t divulge the hot hearse sex we had, but I do think about it. “He certainly knows his way around a woman’s body.”
“You sound like you’re talking from experience.”
