“And you’re going to tell me e-v-e-r-y-thing,” she insists, dragging out the syllables.
I’m sure I’m blushing. I’m also wearing an oversized T-shirt and shorts set that reads “St. Thomas” on my ass and left tit. So there’s that.
Luna grabs my right arm in a death grip and marches me out of the hotel lobby, past the curious onlookers we’ve managed to collect. I am aware there’s a billboard on my butt with each step.My fucking suitcase better get here by lunchtime, or I’m going to have to find my way to a store that sells non-tourist clothing.
The second we’re in the sunshine and out of earshot of other hotel guests, she stops and faces me. “Okay, spill the tea, Is.”
I sigh, wondering how much to tell her. “This is your wedding. I don’t need to ruin it with my baggage. Or lack thereof.”
“Seriously. I brought three suitcases filled with clothing. Priest was stoically amused. You should have seen his face, but he was allbaby, whatever you need. Pack a fourth suitcase.You can gladly have some of my clothing if your luggage doesn’t show. Or we’ll go on a shopping spree. Whatever, we’ll make the most of it. But I need to know why my best friendbroke upwith her fiancé and I’m just hearing about it for the first time now.”
I wince. “Because my best friend is getting married, and she doesn’t need anything but sunshine, blue ocean, and white sand. Seriously, it’s not that big of a deal.”
“Not that big of a deal? Is, you were planning your wedding. That’s a huge deal. A colossal fucking deal, okay? Now tell me what happened.” She frowns, then adds as an afterthought, “Please.”
I laugh. “Being the wife of a Mafia don is making you into a bossy bitch, you know that?”
It’s good to find some humor and lightness. Good to be with my friend. The sun is shining, the pool looks absolutely amazing, and I had the best sex of my life last night. Mind-numbing, bone-melting, multiple-orgasm sex with the hottest man I’ve ever met.
Fuck Christian.
And fuck Harlow too.
“Don’t say that too loudly,” Luna says. “We’re keeping a low profile here. Priest and his brothers are majority investors in the hotel, and they don’t want to spook anyone with their…connections.”
“Sorry.” My temporary good mood fades. “Shit. I don’t know what the rules are for this kind of stuff. Are you being watched? Is your phone tapped? Is the FBI following you?”
Luna rolls her eyes. “You don’t have to worry about that. Just don’t bring it up. What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”
It’s my turn to frown. “Okay, now you’re starting to freak me out.”
Luna and I met as undergrads in Iowa, and we’ve been like sisters ever since. What I didn’t know up until recently was that her father was the don of a notorious East Coast crime syndicate. When he became ill with cancer over a year ago, he lured her home under false pretenses and forced her into an arranged marriage with Priest, the don of a rival family.
Thankfully, she and Priest fell in love and are deliriously happy together, which is why they’re remarrying—the right way this time, and on their own terms. It’s complicated, and I’ve tried my best to keep out of that side of things while still supporting my bestie however I can.
“No need to freak out,” she reassures me. “Just keep it on the down-low, that’s all. Glen Powell wouldn’t run around the hotel with a megaphone announcing that he’s Glen Powell, would he?”
“Yeah, but it’s not like he’d need to anyway. Because he’sGlen Powell.” I narrow my eyes at Luna. “Wait a minute. Is Priest involved in anything illegal?”
The little I know about the Mafia is limited to what I’ve seen in the movies. I’m not sure I want to know more, but I’m also not about to stand by while the woman I consider a sister gets tangled up in crimes that could land her in prison.
“Is, cut it out.” She crosses her arms. “Tell me what happened with Christian. Why is he not here in St. Thomas with you, and why are you no longer with your fiancé?”
“It’s a long story. Let’s just say he’s currently with a student named Harlow, and the two of them deserve each other.Actually, I’m not sure she deserves him because she’s too young to know better, but that’s another story.”
“Oh my God. He cheated on you?”
“Yes.”
“With someone namedHarlow?”
Once again, Luna’s voice is carrying. A woman in a green bikini turns and watches us curiously from behind her Versace shades.
“Also yes,” I admit.
“I hope you chopped off his dick,” Luna says vehemently.
And I’m not sure she’s kidding. Maybe being married to the mob is rubbing off on her. She sounded deadly serious.
