Page 9 of Pretty Lies

Across the conveyor, the guard swallowed at her hard stare. Deciding to keep his mouth shut on any further comments, he simply said, “Enjoy your day, Miss Costello. I hope business treats you well.”

“You, too, Jethro.”

Her bag was back on her arm. The guard handed over her ID, and the world was right again. She could see the questions burning in his eyes. Especially the way his stare dropped to the identification card she now held. He was the same as every other acquaintance she’d made in her line of work—they always wanted to know the same damn things.

How did you find yourself here at only twenty-three?

It wasn’t a simple answer. It never was when it came to the mob; how exactly should she explain that the illegal business of loansharking was a family venture, anyway? Frankly, Della didn’t owe anybody shit.

“Anything else?” she asked, figuring she might as well put the man out of his misery.

Besides, a line was starting to form behind her of others wanting to get through the guard’s scanners. And now she was running late, too.

That wasn’t Della’s style.

“Not a thing,” Jethro murmured, picking up the container in such a way that he kept the cash inside hidden from any camera’s view. He glanced at the line of people, shouting, “Next!”

Della headed for the bank of elevators on the other side of the entrance.

Time to get to work.

When the elevator climbed the sixty flights to the floor that a CEO—Jared Tramen—had rented for the sole purpose of running his investment company from, Della switched back and forth from texting on her phone to talking into the small microphone that hung down from her one earbud. The two entirely separate conversations needed to end, and soon.

“Work done for the day?” her father asked in her ear.

“Almost. Just the Tramen debt.”

“You’re waiting for J, right?”

Her older brother—by only a year—he meant. If only her father knew how many collections she did on her own without her brother as a backup. Today didn’t seem like the right moment to tell him the truth, really.

“Adella Ivy,” her father said in her ear.

Della had a good mind to roll her eyes and tell him to chill out, but her raising kept her from doing so. It didn’t matter how old she was or that Frankie couldn’t actually see her be rude. Her father wouldn’t stand for any of it. Frankie came from a different generation where respect had been the word of the day every fucking day. He demanded the same from his children—it didn’t matter if they were collecting his loansharking debts or going to an Ivy League college.

“Of course, I’m waiting for him,” she lied smoothly.

A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. Within the hour, she’d have the money, everything would be fine—as it always was when she did her job—and her father wouldn’t know one way or another whether she waited for her older brother to get it done.

Who cared if it was done?

Right?

Besides, even J knew she could do this alone which was why he never said a thing when she did it. If her dad could figure that out, too, everything would be easy.

“Right, well, I’ll let you get back to it, then. Be smart, hmm? Love you.”

Della smiled. “Always am. Love you, too.”

The elevator doors opened to expose a modernly decorated small reception with the name Tramen spelled out in golden script behind the woman sitting at a desk. With a Bluetooth in her ear, and her fingers flying across the keys, she didn’t seem to notice Della stepping off the elevator. Since there was no one else in the reception area, she took a moment to end the other conversation she had going on in her text messages.

The last message from her friend popped up on the screen. The one she hadn’t been able to reply to because her father called.

Jennika had simply written are you still sad about your fuckhead ex?

Fuckhead ex was a good way to describe Luis.

Small time gang leader with a superiority complex. Bad boy with worse intentions. Emotionally unavailable, incapable of being loyal to one woman which she learned way too late for her own good, and a problem in every other aspect of Della’s life because despite how much she wanted him to be the right guy, he wasn’t.