Page 125 of Loyalty

And she was still smiling.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

SIENA WAS NOT panicking.

She was not.

It was church.

Sunday service.

Mass.

She did this every week with her own family. She attended services every single Sunday since she could remember. Her first communion was one of her fondest memories. Church and God were a must for her family.

It wasn’t a big thing.

It shouldn’t be a big deal.

So, why couldn’t she just pick a damn dress?

Five church appropriate, Catholic service approved dresses rested across her bed. She had pulled out far more than five at first, but these were the ones she ended up with after discarding the others on the floor of her closet.

All had been spread out, so she could get a good look at them. She kept going from one to another, either finding something she didn’t like about one, and then finding something she loved about the same piece.

They ranged in color—a white, off the shoulder number, another light green dress, one dark blue, a maroon red, and even a violet shade. All with designer names, respectable style, and modestly cut necks. Nothing too low, and nothing too short. All the skirts fell at her knees, or even an inch below.

And these dresses?

That was all before shoes. Shoes were a whole other kind of hell. Siena was not ready for that hell.

This was not hard choice on any other day. Usually, Siena just grabbed a dress, and tossed it on. She didn’t buy something if she didn’t love it right off the rack.

The thing was, this wasn’t any other Sunday. Her family would not be attending with her, and she wouldn’t be going to her familiar church.

No, this was about John’s family.

Other than Andino Marcello, Siena didn’t really know any of John’s family. Some of them by face or name, sure, because of her own family or things she had seen on the news over the years. That didn’t mean she knew them on a personal level.

Not who they were beyond the last name. Not what they thought of her. She didn’t know anything about the Marcellos. Nothing at all.

It made her so anxious, she was damn near ready to puke. And wouldn’t that just be fucking fantastic to add to her problems. She could go to service smelling like a vomit factory, and two steps away from spilling what was left of her breakfast on a pew, or something.

Maybe she was being a little dramatic, but Siena figured it was better for her to prepare for the worst. Then, she wouldn’t be all that shocked or disappointed if that was exactly what happened to her.

Her luck, it would.

The ding of a text on her phone drew her attention away from the dresses on her bed. She grabbed the device, and swiped at the touchscreen. A message from John rolled across the screen, and made her anxiousness pick up a bit.

A lot.

What was wrong with her?

Be there in twenty, his message read.

Siena let out a low breath, and tossed the phone aside. She put her hands to her hips, and eyed the dresses once more. She didn’t have a choice but to pick a damn dress and get ready right now—John was nearly there.

At least her hair and makeup were done. That was one less thing to worry about. You know, on top of the mountain of other things she was already worrying about.