“He wasn’t missin’ nothin’,” Ruth said, his cheeks starting to turn red.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and while Quentin and Ruth started arguing over how rude it was to be invited over to clean up the after-dinner mess, I started to walk outside to take the call.
“It’s like asking someone to do dirty fucking dishes after everyone else has eaten,” was the last thing I heard from Quentin before I shut the door behind me and stepped outside.
“Talk,” I said, expecting the voice on the other line before he even greeted me. It was Carlo, the doorman at one of my buildings.
“Boss,” he said. “11 has a visitor. Man by the name of Benjamin Dalton.”
I lifted my arm, checking my watch. It was close to nine pm.
“A little late,” I said, heading toward my car.
“You want me to deny him, boss?”
“Stall a few minutes,” I said.
I hung up, sliding into my car, heading in the direction of the building. Ruth’s pissed off face and arms open in a what-the-fuck gesture disappeared as I sped past.
My phone dinged again. I picked it up before it had the chance to ring twice.
“Candle,” I said, knowing who this was too. It was my business to know everything.
The voice spoke five words, “time to go to work,” but before he hung up, I replied, something I rarely did.
“I’ll be a little late.”
There was a moment of hesitation on his end before he spoke again. “You got something better to do?”
“Nah,” I said. “I’ll take care of it. But I have some local business to take care of first. Won’t take long.”
A few moments of silence met me before the other line went dead.
6
Rosalia
“Seriously? That’s what you’re going to wear?”
Cilla looked me up and down. I turned toward the mirror in my bathroom, doing the same thing.
“What’s wrong with my outfit?” I’d put on a black bodysuit, a pair of leopard-print joggers, and a thin black cardigan to keep me warm. Anxiety made me feel chilled to the bone.
My hair was naturally wavy, and I left it loose around my shoulders. I fixed a few strands that had gone wild around my head, and then I picked up a case of nude lipstick and applied a little to my lips while she continued to watch me from the doorway.
“Nothing,” she said. “As long as you’re going to make a grocery store run. This outfit is seriously lacking. It’s not speaking the right language.”
“What language is it speaking then?”
“It doesn’t matter. That’s the point. You need something that translates:I’m a woman. You’re a man. Let’s get this party started.”
A bubble of laughter came out of my mouth. “How old are you again?”
“Older than you where this is considered, apparently,” she said, stepping into the room and going for my closet. She shuffled a few things around, muttering, “You have some great shit in here!” before she came out with a dress that I’d never worn.
It was pretty, but flashy, and way too short for this meeting with Benjamin Dalton. He’d think I belonged to a pop group or was trying to impress him. That wasn’t what I was doing. I just needed to know what he did. Cilla didn’t know that, though, and I didn’t want to get into it. It would only lead to questions.
She held the dress in front of my body. “This dress.Thisdress is saying:you’ll never forget me!It makes your eyes sparkle.”
