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“We had fun last night. They didn’t try anything on me.” She looked around for somewhere to put the tip of the joint.
I stood and grabbed one of the mini bottles of water on the small table in the corner of the dressing room. After guzzling half, I handed her the bottle. She took a drink, then dropped the roach in the bit of water remaining in the bottle.
She giggled as she tugged on her jeans.
I slipped the hobo dress over my head.
“Girls,” –our mom banged on the door– “what is taking so long?”
“Almost ready.” I dug in my purse for my perfume. “The room reeks.” I squirted perfume in the air.
“Give me your dress.” The layers of tulle buried Deidre as she lifted the gown into her arms. “This will keep her busy.” She flung open the door. “Take this.” She dumped the dress into my mom’s arms.
“Deidre! Be careful. You’ll damage the lace.”
“Don’t worry. No one will notice if one piece of tulle is wrinkled.” Deidre piled the veil on top. She smiled over her shoulder at me.
“We should go.” I maneuvered them away from the room and pulled the door closed.
My mind was brilliantly distracted. I could definitely get through the rest of the day with my mother. While she was spewing complaints from her frosted pink lips, my sister smiled and nodded.
Maybe she was always high when we were out with our mom. Maybe I should be, too. At least I’d be able to tolerate her criticism while smiling.
My limbs grew heavy, and my belly warmed. Knox and I smoked weed on occasion, but this was a first for me and Deidre. I wondered if Orlando shared his weed with his brothers. Then I recalled Marco’s conversation about Giada. He’d said she preferred the Bruno men share her.
At least I wasn’t sharing men with my sister. I giggled. Just a joint.
“Ally.” Deidre linked her arm with mine. “Focus. Mom is talking to you.”
“I know. But I hate the way she speaks to me.” I glanced at my mother as she gave the seamstress final instructions. “I won’t be like her, content to look pretty and hang on my husband’s arm in public, stay quiet, and raise babies in private.” I turned to my sister and tears filled my eyes.
“Oh, no, don’t start crying.” She grabbed my hand. “We’ll meet you outside,” she said to our mom as she tugged me out of the boutique.
Weston, my mom’s bodyguard and driver stood next to the SUV. He opened the back door for us.
“The only thing I want to cry about is that dress,” I said as I climbed in.
We both chuckled.
Mom bustled out of the store and hurried into the passenger seat. “How about Tuscany for lunch?”
“Yes,” Deidre said. “I’ve got the munchies.” We both laughed as we settled into the backseat.
On our way to the restaurant, my phone chirped. I fished it out of my purse. My heart rabbited, and an answering sizzle slipped through my veins. I was hot for my future husband. “It’s Marco.”
This was the first time he’d ever called me. Adrenaline rushed into my head, fighting with the haze of my high, and my stomach flipped as I slid the button to answer. “Hi.”
“Ciao.”
Oh, I was high and deliciously turned on by the sound of his voice and secretly pleased he was thinking about me enough to call.
“Are you hungry?” he asked.
I tried to bank my smile, but yes, I had the munchies, too. “Yes. We’re headed to Tuscany. Do you want to join us for lunch?”
My mom glanced over her shoulder at me and nodded.
“Sì.”Yes.
