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Enzo
moves around the desk and takes his seat. “Bobby, you get the hotel rooms booked.”
“On it, boss.” Bobby takes out his cell phone and gets to work.
I follow suit and start texting the men I know I can count on to get the surveying done quickly and accurately.
“I’ll get my cousin Vinny over here to fit us all with new suits,” Leo says as he takes out his phone.
“I want us looking our very best,” Enzo says. “We have to make a show of our success.”
I know this is going to backfire on us, but I also know my brother is right about us having to be at this thing. I send Lisa a text, telling her to get with Sheila ASAP so she can start getting ready for the summit she’s so afraid of going to.
Maybe it’s just her fear that’s rubbed off on me. I don’t know. But there’s a ball in the pit of my stomach that’s telling me this could end very badly.
When Lisa sends me a frowny face emoji, I can’t help but smile. I send her back a heart face emoji and find my heart skipping a beat.
Which is so not me.
What has this chick done to me?
“Frank, do you think your wife is up to this?” Enzo asks me.
“Well, she’s a trooper, I have to say that. I’ve taken everything in her life and turned it upside down, and she hasn’t lost her mind or her temper. She might be a keeper, Enzo.”
She did have a bout with her sanity the first night, but I fixed that. She’s crazy about my body, thankfully. That makes taking her mind off all the bad shit pretty easy.
Just start stripping, and she falls into the abyss that is me!
Chapter 11
Lisa
Meeting Sheila at her dressmaker, I feel a mix of emotions. It’s exciting to be a part of something as big as a summit for Mafia bosses and members from all over the place.
Of course, I’m scared shitless that I’m going to be around so many dangerous people.
Still, there’s a lot of glamour in this thing, and I’ve never done glamour. When Sheila’s car pulls up to the curb, it’s not only me who gets out of my car but three other women too. Our guards walk along behind us, making me feel self-conscious about what others must think of us.
I don’t know the other women and immediately feel intimidated by them as they all have that glam look most Mafia wives have.
I’m still pretty much just the same old me. Frank prefers me without much makeup and wearing jeans and T-shirts.
Sheila greets us all as we gather in front of the dress shop. “There are my girls. Come, let’s get inside.” She ushers us in, making sure to pat me on the shoulder to make me feel included.
The dressmaker and her staff are quick to divide us up, each one of us getting our own personal seamstress. “I’m Lisa,” I tell the woman who pulls me away from the others.
“I’m Rain.” She has me stand on a box and then begins measuring every single part of my body, calling out the numbers to her assistant. “Thirty-two bustline.”
Looking around the room, I see the same thing is happening to the other women, and I do as they do. I feel like a model or something as bolts of fabric are brought out and held against me, and notations are made about my skin tone and the colors that work with it.
Once the measuring is done, we’re all taken to sit in a circle and given flutes of champagne. Sheila is all smiles. “So, we have a new girl in our esteemed circle, ladies. This is my sister-in-law, Lisa. She married Frank about a month ago.”
I wave, feeling kind of shy. “Hi.”
“I’m Lola,” a tall, thin blonde says. “I’m Leo’s wife.”
“I’m married to Bobby,” the short redhead says. “My name’s Candy.”
