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“Of course. Let me know if you’d like to see anything else.” She arranged the necklace back inside the glass case.
With a polite nod, she left us. Alone.
“Um,” I cleared my throat, “I should go.”
“It was nice meeting you.” He stepped back and gestured toward the door.
I wanted to ask his name. But if he hadn’t bothered asking mine, that meant he didn’t care. Right? What was the protocol for meeting strangers at Tiffany’s? Smooth had never been one of my strong suits. I wasn’t like him. I bet he met rich girls at designer stores all the time.
With a quick, awkward wave, I ambled away from him. Did he live nearby? He looked like he would own a penthouse in the city in some fancy building with a doorman. I ran a hand through my hair, thinking how my family and I also lived in a place like that now. Did that mean I could have a boyfriend like him?
I stopped to inhale. Gathering all the courage I could muster, I turned around to ask him his name, but he was gone. Of course he was. Just as well. Between the new school and Dad’s new job, I didn’t need any more complications. Rubbing the back of my neck, I made my way outside.
When my lungs filled with fresh air, I realized how hot I’d been inside and how sensitive my skin felt where he had touched me.
For the past several years, I had been so focused on helping Mom with the twins and Dad’s bad business decisions that I didn’t consider the idea of a boyfriend. I hadn’t realized I longed for physical connection so much until now.
“There you are.” Mom rushed toward me holding two big shopping bags. “Where did you go?”
“Oh, I went inside Tiffany’s to take a look. I’m sorry I lost track of time.”
“It’s fine.” She shrugged and handed me one of the bags. “Are you ready to go home?”
“Sure.” I lost my balance as I took the clothes from her. I hadn’t expected it to be so heavy.
When I glanced up, I saw him again. Though this time, he didn’t notice me. The glass door to Tiffany’s shut behind him as he strode across the way to a waiting limo. He had a small blue box with him. No doubt he had come to buy his girlfriend something pretty.
The limo drove away, and I couldn’t stop thinking about his intense gaze and sexy voice.
“Earth to Rory.” Mom stepped in my line of sight and blocked my view, so I didn’t get to see which way the vehicle went.
“Yeah, let’s get a cab.” I raised my hand to hail a taxi, even though there were no yellow cars around.
What did it matter which way he went? Other than his affinity for jewelry, I didn’t know anything else about him. The chances of him and I crossing paths again were exactly zero. Not to mention, that my life wasn’t my own anymore.
We served at the pleasure of Don Michael Alfera and his organization.
Chapter3
House Alfera
Aurora
I laid in bed staring at the glittery chandelier in my new bedroom, surrounded by silky pillows and a velvet duvet. I’d been awake for almost two hours, but I didn’t feel like getting up. Life on the other side of the door was getting too weird.
Yesterday, Mom and I came home with thousands of dollars’ worth of clothes from a single shop. Then several other packages arrived with more clothes from different designers, shoes, handbags, cocktail dresses, and gowns—and yes, even a tiara with brilliant stones.
Was it worth our lives? The longer we stayed in New York, in this life of mobsters and tiaras, the harder it would be to eventually go back to what we were before. Or was that the point, to never return to Las Vegas?
I turned on my side and stared at my new closet filled with brand-new clothes. Mom insisted I get rid of everything I brought with me, which wasn’t much if I were being honest. Maybe Mom was right. I shouldn’t throw away this new life Dad had worked so hard to get for us. All those deals that went wrong for him, all those times we ended up with nothing—it all had finally paid off for him. I couldn’t stay on my high horse and pretend our previous life was any kind of perfect.
Signoria Vittoria with her wealth and power scared the crap out of me. But once school started, I would spend most of my time on homework. As for Mom, she didn’t seem to mind Signora Vittoria’s overbearing and condescending methods.
“Rory?” Mom knocked several times, then barged in. “Are you awake yet?”
“I am.” I sat up.
She stood by the foot of the bed with her eyes red and puffy, like she’d been crying. I was familiar with the disappointment and hurt written all over her face. It showed up every time Dad screwed up. What did he do? Get fired on his third day? As much as it pained me to see her like this, at least now we were headed home.
