The more pressing difficulty? If the proprietress was even there.
I pushed inside, instantly enveloped in the scent of sugar and spice. The walls were painted a warm brown. Plants hung from pots on the wall next to gorgeous paintings with ludicrous price tags. They were soft impressions of the countryside, blurred images of churches or haunting abstracts of crumbling castles.
Sweeping a glance around the space, my shoulders sagged with relief to see that Nicole Messina was behind the counter, taking orders. She had three employees bustling about, crafting beverages or plucking iced cookies from the display case.
I skipped the line, ignoring the grumpy looks from the customers. “Morning, Nicole.”
The blonde perked up, smiling at me as I stopped beside the counter. “Gabriella! What brings you in?”
Damn her, but she made pregnancy look good. Plump and pretty, wearing a flowing dress that made her swollen belly pop.
That could have been me.
I adjusted my button up shirt. “I need a dozen cookies for the restaurant.”
“Ma’am, there’s a line.” A prim woman leaned from her place in it to give me a snotty glare.
“Can we have a word?” I added quietly, ignoring the scolding Karen.
Nicole gave me a funny look. We weren’t friends. I hadn’t been the most pleasant whenever Cristiano brought her to the restaurant. Professional, always. But nice? How could I? She’dmarried the eligible—and more likeable—son of Don Morelli’s other capo.
“Of course,” she said, confusion lacing her words. “Karliegh? Can you take over the POS?”
When the other aproned employee came to the till, Nicole gestured for me to take a seat.
I shook my head. “In private. Please.”
“Oh! Now I’m curious.” Nicole laughed. She waddled behind the counter, and I dogged after her. We passed the door that led into the kitchen, going to the one beyond, which Nicole paused to unlock. It spilled into her inner sanctum—an art studio.
Rumor had it that Cristiano had made the windows bulletproof. A camera winked in the corner, clearly showing that the mobster had eyes on his wife at all times. Before she closed the door, I caught sight of the two guards glaring at us. Made Men, soldiers entrusted with keeping her safe. But if Cristiano’s obsessive need to protect his wife bothered her, Nicole didn’t show it.
“Uff, I needed to take a break anyhow,” Nicole sighed, falling into a lounge chair. “I won’t be working much longer.”
Her laughter tinkled, bright and light.
No wonder the Messina boys were smitten with the Loring girls. They were gorgeous, funny, and winning.
I hated them on principle, even if they hadn’t stolen the most eligible bachelors in the famiglia.
“What can I do for you? You didn’t just come for some cookies.” Nicole tipped her head to the side, guessing that I was about to demand a big favor.
Pretty and shrewd. The whole package.
“I need birth control,” I said, steeling my spine. There was no point beating around the bush. “Can I pay you to get it?”
Her twin golden brows shot to her forehead. She whistled. “Well, that wasn’t what I was expecting.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.
“Why can’t you go? You know they tailor that stuff to your physiology,” she added, running a look down my body, before returning her blue gaze to mine.
“Please?” I hated that she was making me beg. “It’s important.”
“I mean, I can.” She drummed her finger against her belly. The area jumped—a baby kick.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look away. “What will it cost me?”
Nicole blew out a short laugh. “Just tell me why? Why come to me?”
