I sip my coffee, still peering out the window, when I hear Nes open her bedroom door. I turn to greet her as she makes her way into our small, galley-style kitchen.
“Hey, Nes,” I say to greet her, instantly regretting where I left the clothes Carmine sent me home in. I folded them and put them next to the coffee machine so I wouldn’t forget to return them today, but there is no way she isn’t going to notice or make a comment once she sees them.
She heads over to the coffee to grab a cup and I notice that her police vest is overtop her white sweater, which is odd. Not that she doesn’t usually wear her vest, but it’s typically concealed beneath her clothing.
“Hey,” she greets back when her eye catches Carmine’s folded jacket and shirt on the counter. She glances up at me with discerning eyes before redirecting her focus to the coffee machine, grabbing a mug from the cabinet above it to pour herself a cup.
“How was work last night?” I ask, trying to make small talk.
She pours her coffee before responding to me. “Be careful today. I know you are meeting with Carmine,” she warns.
“Well, considering that I work for him, meeting with him is kind of expected,” I joke, expecting at least a half-grin from her, but she remains closed-lipped, with a look of concern on her face. “You sound like Eric. Seriously, chill. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” I remind her, trying to brush off the agitation. I feel that everyone keeps treating me like I am some delicate, naïve girl instead of a grown woman who can discern things for herself.
“So, the late-night meetings at his place are also part of this expectation?” she presses, with a smidge of judgment laced in her tone.
“It was nothing.” I blush.
“Right, that’s why you have a freshly fucked glow still smeared all over your face,” she points out.
I already know where this conversation is headed and I’m just not in the mood for it. I know Nes is only looking out for me, but I can deal with Carmine myself. I look down at my coffee mug, which is halfway full, and decide to pour the rest in a to-go Thermos to avoid whatever else she wants to lecture me about this morning.
“Excuse me, I need to get in the cabinet, I’m going to be late for work.” I try to move past her, but she stays blocking my way. “Nes, seriously, move.”
She steps aside, and I quickly grab the first Thermos I see. I bring it to my mug to pour the coffee so I can get the fuck out of here.
“I have to get going. I want to make sure I have enough time to grab a cab to make it into work on time,” I say, trying to make as graceful an exit as possible.
“No need, Eric texted me already that he is downstairs,” she says, staring at her phone.
That’s weird, I wasn’t made aware of Eric picking me up today again. I really hope this is not a permanent thing with Eric driving me around. Especially after how weird he was acting last night.
I go to the entry table, grabbing my keys. “You know, Nes, given how much you despise Carmine, doesn’t it bother you that Eric works for him also?” I ask with genuine curiosity. It surprises me how nonchalant Nessa is about Eric working at Marked Inc.
“Honestly, yes. It bothers me a shit-ton, but this is the longest time Eric has been clean and out of jail. Why that is exactly, given Carmine’s exceedingly sketchy persona, I don’t know … yet.”
It’s then I realize that in the time I had been hooking up with Eric, I never even bothered to ask about anything in his life. Let alone allow a conversation to go deep enough to know that he had been in jail. And in all the years I have been friends with Nessa, she never brought it up. Maybe it’s because she was embarrassed, or because she always wanted Eric and me to end up together, so she figured it would ruin his chances with me. Not that a little jail time would have deterred me from pursuing Eric if I wanted to.
All my father’s friends and colleagues were always in and out of the system. It made me view crime as normal, made me ignore the things that most in society deem unacceptable.
I don’t even know how to respond to that, so I don’t.
“Alright, I’ll see you later.” I’m about to head out the door when Nessa runs up to me, grabbing my shoulder to get my attention.
I turn around, surprised by her intensity. It’s not like this apartment is big, there was no need to run. She could have caught up to me or gotten my attention by taking just a few steps.
“Yes?” I look at her noticing the concerned look back on her naturally beautiful face.
“Please, if nothing else, just be alert,” she warns.
“Nes …” I begin, pouting my lip as I take my free hand to her shoulder. “I can handle myself, I’m a Ricci, remember?” I bring her in for a hug to reassure her I know how to handle a man like Carmine. I spent my life surrounded by plenty of men like him. Granted, none of them were so eager to please me or looked like an inked-out, chiseled god, but that’s beside the point.
“That’s what concerns me,” she says as we move from our embrace.
“What? That I am a Ricci?” I ask.
“Yes.” The relief our embrace gave her dissipates immediately, and a pressing look washes over her face.
My brow lowers as I shake my head, trying to unravel her warning. “Nes, what are you getting at?”
