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“Okay, cover yourself in pizza,” she snorts.
“Shut up, Lucia,” I say poking her.
“Try this on,” she says pulling out a gold bandeau dress.
“This isn’t mine,” I say suspiciously.
“I know, I got it for you, dumb ass.”
“Why did you let me try on all the other dresses then?” I say sighing.
“Because it was fun, duh.” She laughs.
“When you loved someone and had to let them go, there will always be that small part of yourself that whispers, ”What was it that you wanted and why didn’t you fight for it?”
—Shannon L. Alder
IGINGERLY PULL ON THE DRESS, THE DELICATE MATERIAL FEELS LIKE FINE SILK AGAINST MY SKIN.
It’s a little revealing, showing a generous amount of cleavage and legs.
I guess that is the point to get Rocco’s attention.
“What do you think?” I say to her as I walk out of the closet.
“If Rocco rejects you wearing that, he’s stupider than I thought.”
“How are we going to get out of here tonight? Franco is not going to let me out of his sight.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Rocco will instruct all of his men not to let us in tonight, even if we do get past Franco.”
“Relax, I’ve got this,” she says winking at me.
“You and Franco seem to be on good terms,” I say subtly.
“What does that mean?” She shrugs innocently.
“It means, is there something going on between you?”
“No, he is just much nicer to me than Rocco is. Men, in general, aren’t very nice to me after I sleep with them. It’s all about,can you get out of here before my wife comes back?”
“Jesus, Lucia,” I say sighing.
“Franco is divorced and we’re just friends.”
“What does Rocco think about that friendship?”
“His head is so up his own ass, he wouldn’t notice if I was sleeping with Artem Romanov himself. Bad example, I guess,” she says awkwardly.
“Yep, just another reminder,” I exhale.
“I still don’t understand how you never slept with Anton, but almost married him?”
“I guess we were both traditional. If I knew he was going to die ten minutes before we got married, I probably would have.”
“Do you still love him?”
