I shake my head, still chewing. “I don’t eat a lot of pizza anymore,” I answer.
“She’s classy now. Her big job pays for better things than pizza so greasy you have to fold it in half so the pepperonis don’t slide off,” Eliza jokes.
“Listen,” I say as soon as I swallow. “That’s how you know the pizza is good.”
All my siblings laugh. I love it. I love being with them. I drove all the way out to their side of the city, an hour’s drive, so I could spend time with them.
I thought Ransome would fight me on it, but when I texted him about it, he sent a very simple go-ahead text in response, followed by a,Be careful.At a glance, it almost sounded endearing. Like he cares about my wellbeing.
But I’ve known Ransome Rozanov long enough to understand what it really means.
Don’t get us into any trouble.
Honestly, I don’t give a fuck. I slipped on some jeans and a comfy cut-off t-shirt and threw on some sneakers and booked it.
“How is the job going anyways?” Eliza asks. “You went pretty dark there for a bit.”
Well, sis, that’s because my boss is a mob leader who holds me hostage when I misbehave.
Obviously, I don’t say that, even though I kind of wish I could.
“I know, and I’m sorry about that. I picked up extra hours just to make sure we all have what we need.”
“Are you still at the same apartment?” Gianni asks, reaching for a third slice of our giant New York-style pizza.
I chew thoughtfully, deciding how to answer that. “I’ve been staying somewhere else. Closer to work.”
“More money and a new crib? Damn, sis, that doesn’t suck.” Gianni grins, and immediately I feel guilty.
They’re such good kids. Such humble people. And they’re still living in our childhood home, which, if I had to take a wild guess, is still a dump. And here I am, bitching on the regular about living in Ransome’s three-million-dollar penthouse where everything is basically brought to my doorstep.
And speaking of that.
“Damn, Amara. Is that Louis Vuitton?” Bella asks.
It hits me that, while I dressed very down today—both so I wasn’t flaunting my new wardrobe and because I wanted to be comfortable for once—I am carrying a very posh handbag right now.
“It is,” I admit.
“Good for you,” Eliza says. “I’m glad you’re using some of your new raise on yourself.”
And another wave of guilt hits the shore with tropical storm force.
In all honesty, I’m not spending much on myself these days. I really do either save the bulk of my income or send it to them. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m walking around in Rozanov luxury.
“Ugh,” Eliza lets out and I look over at her. “Speaking of money…”
“What’s up?” I ask.
She punches in a quick text and puts her phone away. “It’s nothing. Just a call out at the salon. They asked if I can cover.”
“Now?” Gianni asks, clearly annoyed.
“They’ve got three colors coming in tonight, plus it’s homecoming season, so lots of updos. The money is good.”
“Then you should go,” I tell her. “Don’t let me being here keep you from your work.”
“Says the sister who does nothing but work,” Bella mumbles.
