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After breakfast, we headed down to the lobby where Thatcher programmed his number in our phones, stated and then restated the protocols for if we got in trouble, and finally gave us directions for what the Leighbridgers called Fashion Ave.
“I would assign you both a security detail, but that might have the opposite intent of protecting you. This enemy is unknown to us, but we are not to him. It may draw attention to you two as friends of the family if you’re seen with Sunny’s usual guards.”
“Don’t we want that attention? The plan is I step up in Sunny’s place.”
“Not yet,” the imposing man explained. “Right now, Sunny is simply ‘not picking up his phone.’ A few more days, he’s ‘missing.’ A few more and his associates will conclude something happened to him, and then they’ll mobilize to do something about it. It’s at that point the traitor, if there is one, will ready his next move.”
“Makes sense. He or she can’t act like they know Sunny is dead before the rest of the gang does. They’ve got to sit back and wait for the news the family identified the John Doe tossed off an overpass as Sunny.”
“Exactly. Once he sets the rest of his plans in motion, you will step in to disrupt them. If the goal is to take over Sunny’s business or poise himself to destroy the entire family, naturally he’ll arrange for you to meet an unexpected end too. He won’t want an agent of the Merchants in his way.” Thatcher dropped this as casually as a meteorologist gave the weather. “When he strikes, this time we’ll be ready.”
I hummed. “Was it a good idea to tell me the rest of the plan while I still have time to run?”
Amusement wrinkled the lines around his mouth. “I can promise you we’ll do everything to ensure your safety, but it should be said, you do have time to run. No one is forcing you.”
“I do know that.” I held a deep breath and released it slow. “I want to help. I have to. If I walked away now and something happened to Sunny, Liam, Tricky, or even you, my new manhandling friend, I’d always wonder if I could’ve done something to stop it. There are certain regrets you shouldn’t carry with you.”
“And you, Miss Sienna?” he asked.
She looked away, eyes glazing. “This is where I’m supposed to be. I couldn’t run even if I wanted to.”
I’d challenge that notion later, reminding her she had the option to stay plump and pampered in Sunny’s penthouse while I dangled myself as bait.
We waved Thatcher out the door, setting off into the busy Leighbridge morning.
“No matter how many times I visit this borough, I still felt like I crossed the North Quay line into another world.”
“I know exactly what you’re talking about, little sister.”
Men and women who lived and breathed designer labels breezed past with their steaming lattes and rapid-fire conversations. They didn’t pay a lick of attention to us, for once, it wasn’t because we were dressed in rags chic. Fuller tossed the clothes we arrived in—I narrowly rescued my jacket on its way to the incinerator. Shonda loaned us jeans and simple blouses to run around in, so we didn’t stick out in all the wrong ways.
No, the pedestrians were plain ole ignoring us because we’re random strangers and they didn’t give a shit.
It was beautiful.
Sienna and I linked arms, talking and running through our shopping list. “Okay, we’re going to Fashion Ave. because Fuller said they have a fabric store, and Tricky’s jacket will be as fancy as the little cutie herself. Afterward, we’re grabbing a cab and swinging by Green Mart.”
“Ugh.” Sienna wrinkled her nose. “I’m not trying to run up this guy’s credit card bill either, but we’re supposed to be a couple of badass queenpins, chosen by the late Sunny Bellisario to rule his kingdom. Walking around in Green Mart’s cheap, sweatshop threads is not going to cut it.”
I worried my lip. “True.”
“You’re the one who says your mouth is your second impression, your clothes are the first.”
“Also true.” I heaved a sigh. “You’re right. If his crew is going to believe I’m close enough to Sunny that he’d choose me, they have to believe I run in the same circles as a rich, devilish playboy. We’ll go to the boutique.”
Squealing, Sienna jumped up and down. “Yay. We haven’t been in so long. Marcie’s going to be crazy happy to see me.”
“We’ll give her a heart attack. We haven’t visited for over a year. Before that, I was in every week. She probably thinks we’re dead.” The two of us reached the end of the side street, opening onto Fashion Ave. “Be still, my heart.”
Window display after window display, up and down both sides of the street, showcasing the latest masterpieces in silk, satin, and polka dots. If I thought the people walking on Dunston Street were runway-ready, I obviously got the sneak preview before the main event.
