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"Wait, you’re pregnant?"
"Not showing yet." She tilts the phone down and pats her belly. "But only eight months more until I officially join the leagues of sleep-deprived but pretending-to-glow-mothers."
My head spins from the info dump.
"Not that I’m old. It's a manner of speaking."
I nod. Best to let Karma exhaust herself… She has to run out of words eventually, right?
“Olivia and I are older than you, and we’re married. Isla isn’t and is going through something similar."
"She’s trying to become a singer?"
Karma scoffs. "No, I mean on the 'matters of the heart' front."
"Ah, sure. Although, I don’t know how useful it’s going to be for us to message each other without meeting face to face."
"I’m sure you two will get along really well."
My phone buzzes:
Harry: You’re going to be awesome today. I can feel it. Can you feel it? Remember best to leave two hours before your appointment time. LA traffic!
Mama mia, why does everyone I meet sound like they belong in a failed American sitcom? Probably because the characters in the sitcom are based on people like them in the first place. Also, why is getting from one part of LA to the next an exercise in patience and fancy car maneuvering? Not that I dare to navigate the traffic. I leave that to Rick.
How I miss the breezy half-hour car rides to any destination, which is all it took to get anywhere in Napoli. Or better still, walking everywhere. A concept that was met with horror from Harry. Welcome to my reality, folks. Guess I’ll have to take his advice and use the treadmill.
Of course, there's the beach, but apparently, celebs don’t use the beach because—paps. I pointed out I wasn’t a celeb, to which Harry responded I needed to act like one so I would become one. A logic I don’t quite understand. Either way, he convinced me it's best to use the gym in Declan’s basement, and no, I’m not complaining. Just adjusting. That’s all. I paste a smile on my lips and wave at the screen. "I've gotta go, girls."
"Okay, I’ll put you in touch with Isla and—" Karma begins, but Olivia cuts her off.
"Solene, you should contact Abby."
"Eh?"
"Abigail Warren. Remember, you two used to keep in touch?"
Abby has a Mafia background like me, and we bonded when we met once on her family’s trip to Italy. We've kept in touch but moving to LA disrupted that.
"I haven’t messaged her since I came to LA," I admit.
"Exactly. And I don’t mean to just pull names out of a hat and insist you friend them. I want to make sure you know you have a virtual circle of women rooting for you."
"We all are." Karma pops her head in front of Olivia. "Can’t wait to see you hit the big time!"
"Thank you so much, you two." Tears prick my eyes.Ridiculous. I’m fine. I’m going to be fine. I’m living the life I've always wanted. I’m here, trying to make it big in my chosen field. I’m going to be more than fine. I’m going to be great!I swallow down the ball of emotion in my throat and blow them a kiss. "I really do need to leave, guys!"
I disconnect the call, drop the phone into my bag, and walk out of the room. Taking the steps two at a time, I head out the front door. Rick has the door of the limo open for me already.
I pause and wrinkle my nose. "Can’t we use a smaller car?" I hold up my palms facing each other and bring them together. "Something more compact?"
He laughs. "This is LA. Everything is bigger than normal. Also, this car is safer for you."
"Safer?"
"It’s bulletproof."
"Oh." I blink rapidly. I come from a space where it’s not uncommon to hear of random shootings, and I remember walking into the kitchen to see my mother sewing up my father’s wounds when he was alive, but to find myself at the receiving end of the protection is disconcerting.
