I flip through the first file and the next is my target—the Rossis. I’m supposed to be Angela, the gig even comes with a blonde wig, which is cheap and sitting on the edge of my desk. I’ll probably just cut and die my hair. It’s about time, anyway.
Not like I’ve kept up with my looks much.
I’ve gained a little weight since Rosa, but I think it looks good on me, all in the hips and a little pouch at the waist.
I haven’t kept up with my hair or nails because, well, who has the time?
But now that I’m Angela...
The next dossier is larger, packed full with pages, and I stare at it with a pout, hoping it can wait until after lunch.
I get a little busy with paperwork from other jobs, and by the time I’m finished, Scott has walked over from the other building.
He looks down at me with his brown eyes bright.
“How are you, Bianchi?”
“Don’t you start. At least you can call me Soph, like usual.” I grin, pulling on the wig and twirling around in my office chair. “OrAngela.”
I make a fake pout and duck face and Scott scoffs.
“Please. That wig is horrible.”
I laugh, removing the wig. “I know. Just gonna cut and dye my hair.”
“I can help you. Like a pixie cut?”
I freeze at the words, and a shiver runs down my spine. For the second time today, I can’t help thinking about Luca, the man I was with for one single night but changed my whole life. He kept calling me pixie.
He gave me Rosa, after all.
“Soph? Earth to Soph?” Scott snaps in front of my face and I startle. “You’re sure in a spacey mood.”
“Sorry,” I mumble, standing and gathering my purse. I shove the dossier into my bag, planning to read through it at lunch. “I just got my first real undercover mission, and I’m a little out of it.”
Scott grins. “You got an undercover gig? Finally.”
“Finally is right. I’ve been working all these small fries, now I get to hang with the big wigs.” I twirl the bad wig along my hand before depositing it in the trash.
“So Angela is your new name? You should go by Angel. Packs a better punch.”
“Good idea,” I muse as we walk into the diner, sitting at our regular spot near the window. I order the home fries with ranch and bacon while Scott orders a burger. He’ll steal fifty percent of my fries and I’ll eat half his burger.
We have a system, you see. It works for us.
“So, I haven’t seen you in forever,” Scott says with a pout. “Where have you been? Making mobster boyfriends?”
“Not yet,” I mutter. “No boyfriends at all.”
He blinks at me. “You’re not telling me the last time you got laid you conceived.”
“That’s kind of…true,” I admit, wincing. I haven’t been with anyone since that night, not since Luca.
I guess I’ve been afraid to get pregnant again, or maybe afraid that it will pale in comparison to that one hot night with Luca, a man I barely knew.
All I know is how he looks, how he feels inside me, and his first name. And that maybe he has a complicated relationship with his father.
That’s it.
