There are two bench seats—one at the very back of the limo facing forward, and one that runs the length of the vehicle. Penelope and I sit as far apart as possible, and both of us take out our phones. There’s a bar area across from me, so I also pull out my gun and place it on there so it’s not uncomfortable to sit. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Penelope purse her lips in disapproval, but she can kiss my ass. Dad told me to keep it on me wherever I go.
As the limo moves smoothly down the driveway and out the gates, I pull up the internet on my phone and use good old Google to do some research on mafia families, and more specifically, the ones on the West Coast. I asked Gio their names on the drive from the fortress to the house yesterday. I know the info probably isn’t correct, but at least I’ll get a heads-up. As I start to scroll through the pages, I decide I’m probably going to need to make a document with all the key players and their photos. I don’t want to be caught unaware.
The trip to the city doesn’t take long, but I breathe a sigh of relief as the limo pulls up in front of an exclusive boutique. Scrambling, I open the door before the driver can even make it around to our side. The atmosphere in there was frigid and oppressive, and there is no way I will be riding back to town with the wicked bitch of the west. Gio will have his car, and hopefully tomorrow morning I can get a lift back home with him.
Penelope pushes past me and stalks to the door of the boutique, which is opened by an actual doorman.
“Good morning, Mrs. Russo. It is a pleasure to see you this morning. We have taken out a selection of our latest line for you to look over.” A woman, maybe the same age as Penelope, bustles over, followed by a salesgirl holding a tray with two champagne glasses on it.
Penelope takes one without acknowledging either of them and stalks over to a lounge and sits down. “Victoria, go with the women, change into the first outfit, and come back out here.” She takes a dainty sip of her glass and leans back, settling in.
I smile gratefully at both ladies and take the other glass before downing it in one gulp. My morning buzz is not going to be enough to get through this disaster. Putting the empty glass on the tray, I whisper to the girl out of the side of my mouth, “Keep them coming, and you better each have one yourself, we’re all going to need it.”
The two women hide their smirks and show me to a luxurious fitting room. There’s a rack of clothes, and the older woman whose name tag identifies her as June hands me the first outfit. “If you just pop this on, we can see if anything needs to be altered. Our designer, Francois, will be down in a moment, and Sarah will get you another glass of champagne while you change.”
After thanking her, I step into one of the booths and hang the garment on the hook before stripping to my underwear. Dad always taught Gio and me that using good manners and kindness with people in the service industry will go a long way in making the overall experience of whatever you are doing enjoyable. We tip well and are never rude to anyone, because we never know what they can do to our food or whatever. Penelope has never adopted that habit. She’s a raving bitch to everyone she thinks is below her.
I shudder when I finally have a good look at the outfit. “You can’t be fucking serious,” I mutter, eyeing myself in the mirror. She picked an outfit that makes me look like a granny. The pastel pink skirt and top are bulky and square-shaped. The hem of the skirt sits below my knee, but instead of a cute pencil skirt, it’s pleated and full. The top is a blouse with no darts in it, so it’s not shaped to my body, and it has pearl buttons all the way down the front.
“Well, come on then, Victoria, I don’t have all day,” I hear Penelope call from where she’s lounging like the Queen of England.
I walk back to the viewing area, step up onto the platform, and do a twirl. When I face Penelope, there is an evil glint in her eye and a smirk on her mouth. “Oh yes, I’m sure that’s exactly what your dad was thinking.” She lifts the phone in her hand, and I can tell by the sound she just took a picture of me. “I’ll send a photo to him to approve it.”
“Fuck off. Like hell that was what he was thinking.” The disgusted tone has us both looking at the door. Standing there, looking professional and hot, is Aunt Carla and two men in suits.
She’s wearing a pair of tailored black pants with a fitted jacket and a black blouse underneath. Her hair is tied back in a sleek ponytail, and her makeup is on point. Unlike my stepmother who looks like she should be dining at a fancy country club, Carla looks stylish and badass.
“She looks like she’s about to have tea with the Queen of England. No, scratch that, she looks like the fucking Queen of England who is a ninety-something-year-old woman. Are you blind as well as stupid, Penelope? Or just a vicious bitch?” My aunt stalks forward just as a man rushes out the front.
“I am so sorry. I was on a phone call when you arrived,” he apologizes, but then he comes to a screeching halt, throwing his hand over his mouth and gasping. “What in the world are you wearing? Why are you wearing something from our matriarch line?” He looks at both salesgirls who stare down at the ground.
“It’s what Mrs. Russo asked us to pull out,” Sarah, the younger girl, stammers quietly.
“I fucking bet it was.” My aunt sounds disgusted. “Go take all that off. Francois, you know what we need, get to it.”
He hurries away, and Penelope loses the smirk and gets to her feet. “Carla,” she sneers, trying to look down on her, but Aunt Carla is wearing kick-ass heels with her pantsuit, and she’s slightly taller than my stepmother, “what are you doing here?”
“When Mickey told me my favorite niece would be in the city and shopping withyou, of all people, I just knew that I would have to interfere. Run along now, Penelope, nobody wants you here. Go and do whatever it is you do these days.”
“Well, unlike you, I don’t spend my days with lowlife strippers and whores,” she snaps back.
“I’d rather associate with strippers and whores, who are trying to make an honest living, than you. You’re nothing but a waste of space. But did you forget that managing the Kitty Cat Clubs is not the only thing I do? I’m the pit boss of the Lucky Diamond Casino, which is way more important than any role you’ll ever hold.” She stops, putting a finger to her cheek in a parody of thinking. “Or has Stefano finally decided to trust you with something?”
I can practically see the steam pouring out of my stepmother’s ears, but she maintains her expression of disdain. “Don’t be ridiculous. I am perfectly happy as I am. Women have no place in business, and I have no idea why he would trustyouorher” —she turns to look at me— “with anything so important. Maybe I should have him examined by a doctor for competency.”
The fury turns to calculation, and she picks up her little clutch and pulls out her phone as she walks to the door.
“If you don’t want my knowledge and input, I’m not staying, I have better things to do with my time. I’m sure you can find your way to the hotel somehow, Victoria. Don’t be late for dinner. Your father would be very disappointed.” Carla huffs as Penelope walks out the door and nods at one of the men who came in with her.
“Follow her.” He nods and slides out behind Penelope, leaving the other to stand unobtrusively by the entrance. “Well, now that the trash has finally been taken out, give me a hug.” She envelops me in a wave of perfume, and it feels so nice to have her arms around me. I shudder as she whispers in my ear.
“You just give me the signal, and Stacey will be feeding the fishes.” Uncle Mickey must have told her what happened, but I refuse to break down in public, so I take a deep breath, and when she pulls away, I have my resting bitch face on.
“Thanks, I appreciate the offer, but I will make sure she gets what’s coming to her.”
She studies me closely and must be happy with whatever she sees. “Excellent. Let’s get you outfitted, and then I have another shop I want to take you to. After that, you can come with me while I check in at the Kitty Cat Club here in town.”
* * *
