Candi takes Juliana’s hands and squeezes. “Of course. Anything you want.”
“Excellent. Armani, may I have my phone back?”
She says my name as if it’s unfamiliar and foreign on her tongue. Reaching into my pocket, I withdraw the burner phone and hand it to her. She unlocks it and doesn’t bother to hide the screen from me as she pulls up Orloff’s contact and calls him.
He picks up immediately. We can all hear his Russian-accented voice on speakerphone.
“Maxim, it’s me,” Juliana says quickly.
“What number is this?”he barks.
“Oh. It’s just a temp. I had to get one of those crappy prepaid phones at a gas station, since you still have mine.”
“A gas station? Where the fuck are you—”
“Before you say anything, I’m sorry,” she says. “I know I should’ve told somebody I was leaving. But I’m totally fine. I’ve been with Candi since yesterday. You know, my best friend?”
Orloff spouts a string of Russian phrases which I’m pretty sure are expletives.
Juliana is unruffled.
“Don’t you remember, babe? I asked you about taking a week away with my matron of honor, since we decided I wasn’t going to have a bachelorette party. You didn’t say no, so I went ahead and arranged us a spa retreat! Yes, it’s a little pricy, but I really think it’s worth it.”
“You need to return to the safe house. It’s too dangerous for you—”
“Oh, Max, come on. I’m safe! I promise. The spa is up in the mountains, and there’s nobody here but a bunch of aestheticians and yoga instructors. We’re having an absolute ball.”
He starts to say something else, but Juliana cuts him off with a giggle and an excuse about how she’s running late to her hot stone massage. Then she promises to check in soon and promptly hangs up on him. I have to admit, that was impressive. She didn’t even break a sweat.
Not only that, but my sister just managed to buy all of us some time to plan our next move.
“That was pretty slick,” Frankie says admiringly.
“Thanks.” Juliana breathes a sigh of relief through her nose. “Well then, it’s settled. I have almost a whole week to strategize. But first, I need to find someplace to stay.”
Candi shakes her head. “No you don’t. You’re staying here.”
“I can’t—”
“You can,” I interrupt. “Dante?”
He stands. “As the head of the family, my word is law. And I insist that you stay. There are plenty of rooms, plenty of staff to see to all your needs, and tons of security as well.”
“In that case…I guess I’ll stay,” Juliana says, sounding relieved. “But just for the week. Or maybe less. The main thing is, I need to figure out what to do about this wedding. Because if I don’t go through with it, it’s not just me who’s at risk anymore. It’s all of you.”
26
CANDI
“‘No Caller ID’is calling me again,” I tell Juliana, a tidal wave of anxiety hitting me.
We’re on adjacent massage tables in a private room, wrapped in thick Turkish towels, the aromatherapy cranking hard. Both of us have been tapping at our phones while we wait for the massage therapists to come in, but this is the third time I’ve gotten one of these calls in the last five minutes. So much for rest and relaxation.
“Maxim,” she says, reaching over to swipe my phone from me and staring down at the screen. “Fuck. I’m sending him to voicemail. There.”
She hands my phone back, but it doesn’t do much to quell my nerves.
Jules hasn’t talked to Orloff at all since she told him we were away at her pre-wedding spa retreat together, knowing full well it wouldn’t be the last she’d hear from her fiancé. He managed to get my cell number—I’m still not sure how he pulled that off—and the fact that he’s keeping tabs on me as well only makes him scarier.
