Chapter 115

In the kitchen, I start quickly to pull out the supplies for the coffee, half of my ear over at the cluster of boys who continue to argue, their tones not so hushed now as each of them start to lose their tempers.

I’m completely distracted, though, when Lucy starts to spoon coffee directly into the coffee machine, forgetting a filter.

“What – um –“ I stumble through my words as I quickly reach out, wanting to be polite even as I’m desperate to stop her. “What are you…doing?”

“Is that…is that not how you do it?” she asks, looking over at me with a little grimace.

I burst into a grin. “No exactly a Susie Homemaker, are we?”

She sticks out her tongue and closes one eye, as if that’s the grossest idea ever. “Not really my bag, no.”

I laugh and bump her a little with my hip, moving her aside. She laughs too. “I’ll handle this, then,” I say, grinning at her. “Why don’t you…take the croissants out of the bag.” I lift my chin towards where they’re sitting in a little basket at the corner of the counter.

“This I feel capable of completing,” she says, giving a confident nod and reaching for the bag, starting to take the croissants out and place them on a plate. We work together quietly, amiably for a moment – and honestly, I’m surprised by how instantly easy it is to be around her. And it’s not that we survived a shootout together, I don’t think – not really. It’s just that Lucy has precisely that personality that makes you want to be with her – she’s fun, charming, and kind.

“Hey, how’s your arm?” I ask as I put the finishing touches on the coffee, pressing the buttons and setting it to brew.

“Oh, it’s fine,” she says, leaning against the counter and looking down at where she was shot. “Just grazed me, really. It’s still healing a little, but the doctor said I should have a nice scar that lets everyone know not to mess with me.”

She grins at me, a little devilish, and I laugh. Then she takes a croissant off the plate and tears it in half, handing one end to me so that we can have a little sustenance while we wait for our caffeine.

“So, um,” she whispers, stepping a little closer and sending a glance over at the boys, who have quieted down now but all stand with their arms crossed, negotiating something that apparently takes their entire attention. “Is it weird that I’m surprised to find you here with Christian? I mean, I thought that…”

“No, it’s totally a surprise,” I say with a little sigh. “He really was serious with Violetta, but…he ended that.” I wrinkle my nose a bit in distaste. “Kind of recently.”

“No,” Lucy says, her eyes going wide. “Not because of Violetta. Because, um…” she glances over at the boys again. “Because of…Frankie.”

My breath hitches a little in my throat. Shit – shit! What does Lucy know? “Frankie?” I ask, my voice a squeak.

“Yeah,” she says, turning her gaze back to me. “You guys were so…close. I mean, you were always flirting, and like, joking…was that not…”

My mind whirs, frantic, trying to find an out. But luckily, I fall back on some of my best stripper skills, not letting my emotions show on my face. “Yeah, I mean we are close, I adore Frankie,” I say, giving a little half-smile, “but Frankie flirts with everything that walks, doesn’t he?”

Lucy bursts out laughing. “And some things that don’t.” She sighs a little, looking over at him. “Aw, I mean – forgive me for saying it, Bamb- I mean…Iris,” she gives me a chagrined little grimace for messing up my name, and I wave it off. “But…I was kind of happy to think that the two of you were starting something. Frankie is the best – I was happy to see him meet a nice girl.”

“Yeah, he really is the best,” I murmur, looking over to him. But then I look back at Lucy, frowning a little because…

Well, how does she know that? How do Frankie and Lucy know each other, really?

Lucy clears her throat, tucking her silky black hair behind her ear, and looks over at the coffee. “Is that done enough yet to steal a cup?”

“Yeah!” I say, hasty, ready to move on from that particular conversation. I pull down two mugs and use the pause feature on the machine to pour us two quick cups before putting the carafe back and letting the rest of it brew. Then I mix cream and sugar into Lucy and my cups, passing one over to her while I take down four other mugs.

By the time that’s done, though, the rest of the coffee is ready. I start pouring three cups of black coffee and then hesitate with the fourth. “How does Tony take his?” I ask, looking up at her.

Lucy just rolls her eyes. “How do you think he takes his?”

I smirk, pouring a fourth cup of black. “Insecure masculinity special?”

She bursts out laughing again, nodding to me and helping me stack the four cups on a tray. Then, we travel over to where the boys are standing.

“If we may,” Lucy says, interrupting with smooth confidence as we approach. “But the delightful Iris has absolutely slaved over a hot stove to bring you this dark elixir. The least you can do is pause a moment to thank her.”

“I just used the machine,” I correct, smirking at my friend as I offer the tray around.

Nico rolls his eyes as he takes a mug, of course, displeased at being interrupted, but Frankie laughs and grins at Lucy and then at me as he grabs a cup. Tony takes his coffee, studying me a little, not saying a word, and Christian takes the last one before I drop the tray to my side. Then Christian wraps an arm around my waist, tugging me close.

“Thank you, Iris, that was thoughtful,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my cheek. I blush a little to have our relationship – I mean, is that even what it is? – so openly acknowledged. After all, I’ve been instructed to keep it secret for so long.

“All Lucy’s idea,” I say, my voice a little high with anxiety.

“But Iris’s execution,” Lucy says, taking a sip from her cup and grinning around at everyone. “So! Are we going to stand here growling at each other in hushed tones? Or can we like…sit on the couch and talk as a group?”

I stare at Lucy, smiling a little, loving her courage, a little jealous. I wish I had the guts to talk to this group of big tough mafia guys like that.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Stay out of it, Luce –“

“No, I think that’s a good idea,” Christian says, raising his cup towards the couch. “Iris is part of this now, I want her in on the talks.”

Tony’s mouth falls open. “That’s – that’s not how this is done, Christian. Women stay out –“

“New world order, apparently,” Nico mutters, clearly not too happy about it but resigned as he starts towards the living room. “The women are in! For better or for what is assuredly worse!”

“But that’s –“ Tony sputters, appalled. Lucy grins, delighted at the change, following Nico into the living room.

“It’s all downhill from here, Tony,” Frankie says sympathetically, clapping a hand on his shoulder and giving him a little shove towards the living room. “Soon someone will give the women books, and teach them how to read, and then they’ll get ideas –“

“You mean,” Lucy gasps, tossing her voice into an easy southern accent that makes her sound like a country bumpkin, “I’m going to be learned real good, like a man!?” I burst into hearty laughter.

“Only so you can read the beauty magazines,” Frankie replies, grinning at her, instantly taking up the same fake accent. “So you can make yourself real pretty for the menfolk.”

“Oh my god,” I whisper, grinning up at Christian, delighted. “We have two of them now.”

Christian laughs and smiles down at me. “Yeah, Lucy’s the best. Tony should count his damn blessings every day that she agreed to marry him.” Then he drops a quick kiss to my temple and starts into the living room. He pulls me with him, but I point to my coffee still waiting in the kitchen, and Christian lets me go so that I can go grab it.

When I get back into the living room, I quickly curl up on the floor at the end of the coffee table, leaning against the corner of the couch where Christian sits. Then I look anxiously around at the surprising new gathering of people.

Tony stares directly at Christian from the other end of hte couch, his jaw tense. Lucy sits curled at his side, her cup pressed anxiously in her hands. I’m a little surprised by this – where is the brash, funny girl from a few moments ago?

“So,” Tony says, holding Christian with a steely brown gaze. “When are you gonna kill dad?”