Chapter 49

Frankie didn’t stay late with me last night, just long enough for me to eat half a plate of food and then take it away when I didn’t want anymore. Then he left me to stew, which is what I really wanted anyway. I had laid in bed, determined to be miserable about it for hours, but to my surprise I fell asleep pretty early.

I guess putting all that makeup on Frankie really took it out of me.

When I wake up the next day, I’m anxious as hell about my new job. In the clear light of morning, I realize that I was a complete idiot for taking it just to piss Christian off. Honestly, what the hell was I thinking?

And is there any way out of it now?

Or…I mean, do I want out of it?

I scowl at myself as I pull myself out of bed, because apparently my destructive streak runs deeper than I thought it did. As reckless as I know it is…I really do want this job, just as a way to get me out of this apartment, just at the hint of a life that it provides.

Even though it pisses Christian off, and it could be dangerous…I mean, I’ll go insane here if I have to spend three more days last the last three here. It’s not that I don’t like living with Frankie, it’s just that…I can’t live like this.

So, I pull myself together, getting ready for work. I put together what I hope is an okay outfit, with a cute top, jeans, and boots. I blow out my hair so that it drifts nicely over my shoulders, and then I emerge from my room, ready for a cup of coffee and a consultation with Frankie about what I can expect.

To my surprise, Frankie and Nico are already up.

As I walk into the main room of the Penthouse, Nico takes one look at me and rolls his eyes. “Nope,” he says, snapping his fingers and pointing behind me. “Absolutely not.”

I stop dead in my tracks. “What?”

“You can’t wear that to Lupa, Iris. You look like you’re going to coach a high school field hockey team in Ohio.”

I squeak a little in protest, looking down at myself, offended both by the critique of my outfit as well as the oddly specific nature of his insult. Frankie, next to him, bursts out laughing, which draws my eyes back up.

“I mean, he’s not wrong, Bambs,” Frankie says, smiling at me.

“What’s wrong with it?”

Nico just rolls his eyes again as Frankie pours me a cup of coffee. I take a step towards them, but Nico points back to my room again. “I’m serious, Iris, you’re a pain in my ass but I’m not letting you go to Lupa like that. Get back in your room – you have plenty of outfits that will be fine.”

Frankie grins, following as Nico strides over to me and takes my shoulder, turning me and walking me back into my room. Then, when we get in there, Frankie hands me my cup of coffee while Nico moves to my closet, sorting through and pulling out a short, slinky black dress. “This,” he says, “with sheer tights and boots.”

Nico tosses the outfit onto my bed and then turns to look at me, crossing his arms as he considers my face and hair. “Darker makeup –“

“But it’s day!”

“It’s always night at Lupa, all right, Iris?” Nico says, arching a brow. “And pin your hair back at the sides, keep it out of your face.”

I groan, shaking my head, but then I take another sip of coffee before I take the outfit chosen for me and head into the bathroom to change. When I re-emerge, no longer looking like a field hockey coach, I spread my hands out for inspection. Frankie’s face brightens appreciatively.

“You look good, Iris!” he says, nodding. “Like maybe you’ll serve me the best whiskey cocktail of my life, maybe you’ll poison me. The excitement is in not knowing which.”

I roll my eyes at him, but I smile anyway, pleased.

Nico simply nods once. “It’s better,” he says. “You look mean and expensive, which is what Romano will want. But you need an outfit like this every day.”

I hesitate, biting my lip, because…I mean, this is out of my element. Trashy stripper outfits I could do – but looking expensively cruel?

“Fine,” Nico sighs, shaking his head and starting out of the room as I grin at his retreating back. “I’ll order them for you. Just…don’t tell anyone that I picked out your wardrobe, all right? I’ve got a reputation to defend.”

Frankie grins at me as I move around the bed, handing me my coffee back. “I make him buy all my stuff too, don’t worry, he loves it.”

“Who knew he was such a fashionista,” I murmur, taking a sip of my coffee. “Okay,” I say, looking up at him and straightening my shoulders. “What else do I need to know about this job?”

“That you’re an idiot for taking it,” Frankie replies, his voice deadpan.

I grimace, believing him but wanting to be comforted nonetheless. “Am I?”

“Bambita,” he sighs, taking my cheeks and pressing them between his palms. “Why did you take this job? Are you interested in the cash? Do you really want to get out of this apartment that badly?”

I nod but then I hesitate, my eyes moving slightly to the right, towards where Christian’s room is.

“Ah,” Frankie says, dropping his hands and smirking at me. “The true reason emerges. You really did it to piss Christian off.”

“I also did it to piss Christian off,” I say, sighing as I admit it. “He just left us here, Frankie! Aren’t you pissed too?”

“I’m too clever to get pissed about that shit, Iris! The Don is playing on your naivete, on your emotions. He knew hiring you was going to piss off Christian – that’s why he did it. You’re letting him make you his pawn in this war with his kid.”

“Frank,” I whisper, reaching out and taking him by the elbow, tugging him to the bed so that he sits down with me on it. “What – what is going on with Christian and Don Romano? I thought Christian was the Mafia King – I thought he…was the one in charge.”

“He is,” Frankie says, glancing anxiously towards the door. “But he took the spot in the family when Romano had cancer. He was really sick, and everyone thought he was a gonner, and Christian took control even when his brother – whose wife Giana you met – is the obvious heir.”

“Oh,” I say, my eyes going wide at the revelation. “But then…Romano got better…”

“Bingo,” Frankie says, winking and point a finer at my face, making me smile. “Now he wants the power back, and Christian has to decide whether or not he wants to give it. And Romano has to decide if he wants to go to war with his kid if Christian decides not to.”

“Shit,” I sigh, my hands tightening around my mug of coffee as I start to intuit what last night was really about. “And Romano has figured out that I’m a soft spot for Christian. And he’s wrapping me up in his world.”

“And you let him,” Frankie sighs, shaking his head.

“Any way out of it now?” I ask, hesitating.

“Do you want out of it now?” Frankie asks, lightening fast.

I hesitate, biting my lip again because…I really, really want to get out of the apartment.

“Listen,” Frankie says, laying a light hand on my shoulder. “I sincerely think that if you back out first day you’ll be on Romano’s shit list, where you definitely don’t want to be. But if you hate it, or it gets too dangerous, just be really shitty at it. Break a lot of glasses, upset the customers. He’ll fire you and move on.”

A little smile finds my mouth as I look up at Frankie. “You’re the best,” I say with a happy sigh. “What would I do without you?”

“Probably die,” he says, nodding consideringly, which somehow just makes me laugh. “Now come on,” he says, standing up and taking my mug of coffee from me. “Let’s get a move on.”

I glance at the clock, thinking it’s too early.

“Nah,” Frankie says, shaking his head and intuiting my ideas. “With Romano, early is on time and on time is late. Plus, I’ll show you the bar, let you get acclimated before your shift starts.”

I nod, trusting him, smoothing my hands down over my skirt and loosing an anxious breath as we step out into the hall. I only get more anxious as I move into the penthouse and see Christian sitting there at the little dining room table I bought, with Violetta at his side.

Both of them in pajamas.