I wave this off. I’ve thought of it, but I just don’t think it’s possible. No one knows I’m going back. My college roommates all believe it was a one-time joke.
Maria is literally the only one who knows I’ll go back again this Friday.
“It’s harmless fun. The guy can’t see me. I don’t know his face. I’m using a fake name. I literally show up, dance for him in a private room, and then walk away with a thousand bucks in my pocket. Who would ever figure out who I really am? It’s not like I’m filling out tax forms.”
My friend looks positively unconvinced. “As I said, I’ll always have your back. But I don’t want you to get hurt. And, I don’t know, maybe it’s time to settle down? Take things withyour family more seriously? You run around like you’re not the daughter of a mob boss. Our families are into some shit, you know, and they can be targets. You could be a target.”
I make a face. “Who are you, and where is my fun friend Maria? I’m not interested in running the family. I don’t want that life; my dad knows that.”
“And what is it you want to do?” Maria asks, now fully serious.
“I want to graduate from college and then pack a backpack and go travel the world. I want to have sex with some hot, foreign guy finally. I want to eat weird food and buy little trinkets for my friends. And after that, I want to apply for regular jobs at ordinary companies. I want to go work in a cubicle, but like totally kill it so I get promoted to some badass girl-boss position.”
“You could be a badass girl-boss in the Campisi organization,” Maria points out. “Like, run multiple businesses and also, maybe, kill people on the side.”
I roll my eyes. “I extra don’t wantthatpart. And I don’t want to marry some Campisi-adjacent goon that my dad deems an appropriate match, like it’s the seventeenth century or something.”
Maria purses her lips, making them disappear.
“What?” I ask. “You had high hopes for me marrying some loyal idiot and pumping out babies that some nanny can babysit while I plot out a network of criminal activities? Oh, and that loyal idiot is probably only loyal to my dad. He’s probably screwing the nanny.”
“That’s so…oddly specific,” Maria says, shaking her head, smirking. “You don’t want to get married? Have a family?”
“No. That’s not on my bucket list at all. I want to be an independent woman. Nothing about any of the men I know or have dated makes me think I’d ever find someone interesting enough to make me want to marry, let alone procreate. And you literally just said I should let my freak flag fly, so why are you pushing so hard on this?”
My friend looks away from the screen. Seems like she’s steeling herself. Then she blurts. “I’m getting married.”
“I’m sorry? What was that?”
“I’ll be coming home after graduation. And I’m getting married.”
I’m dead silent. Stunned.
“Wooo?” Maria offers a lackluster.
“To whom?” I ask.
“Michael DiGiovanni?”
“Is that a question? Because I don’t know the answer.”
“Mikey Dee,” she confirms.
“And…how did this happen? Last I heard, he was in New York.”
“He is in New York.”
I grin at her. “So… your dad set up this whole thing with the guy, right?”
Maria shrugs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah. Totally arranged. But before you freak out, he didn’t force me or anything. He just…suggested I talk to him. Maybe call a few times, see if we clicked. That kind of thing.”
“And?” I press, leaning in.
“We did. We actually hit it off. Like… really hit it off. He started flying back and forth every weekend. And then…” She grins, a little dreamy. “Yeah. We fell in love.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Every weekend? That’s… dedication.”
“Or insanity,” she laughs. “Depends on how you look at it. But somehow… it just fits.” She tilts her head, genuinely happy, and I can hear it in her voice.
