“I told Gage I wanted to be the one who tosses Kyle down the stairs, so he showed Olivia and me some Krav Maga moves. He’s teaching us how to defend ourselves.”
“You were always a fast learner,” I said.
“I wasn’t even thinking about what he taught us.” She squeezed my hand. “My bestie was in danger. I did what I had to do.”
“I’ll have to tell Anil there’s a new ‘The Butcher’ in town.”
“It felt so good,” Chloe said. “I felt powerful for the first time in my life.”
Chloe went to find another mimosa. Detective Garcia sat on the pink velvet couch beside me. “So your client is Bella Angelini?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“She says it was all a minor understanding and she doesn’t want us to press charges.”
I couldn’t imagine Mr. Angelini would be happy if his future son-in-law was thrown in jail one week before the wedding, so I nodded. “The groom got upset about the dress and things got a little out of hand. You know how anxious people get as they approach a big life milestone. Except for a few scrapes and bruises, no one got hurt and we’re sorting it all out.”
“I don’t know if you’re aware,” he said, “but your client’s family allegedly has ties to organized crime. Her father is rumored to be a high-profile boss in the Chicago Outfit. These aren’t the kind of people you want to get mixed up with. They are dangerous, Simi, in every sense of the word.”
As soon as the words dropped from his lips, everything made sense. The isolated mansion. The crazy security. The guards shooting at our boat. And then there were the bodyguards who looked like they’d walked straight out of Goodfellas and Mr. Angelini, giving off evil Godfather vibes left, right, and center. I’d known we were dealing with criminals—law-abiding citizens didn’t act as fences for stolen jewelry—but the Mafia? Jack was so dead. I made a mental note to ask Emma if I could borrow her Taser.
“No. I can’t believe it.” I covered my mouth in mock horror. How much worse would things get for Chloe and me if Garcia thought we had knowingly jumped into bed with the mob? “Bella’s so nice. Her mom is nice. They have a nice house. She’s having a lovely wedding to a not nice man.”
“She’s getting married to man whose family is also connected to organized crime,” he said. “His father is a boss in a New York crime family.” He shook his head and sighed. “You didn’t know.”
“Do I look like I knew?” I drew an air circle around my face. “Does anything in this expression suggest prior knowledge? Do you think I would have taken the job if I thought I would end up with a horse head in my bed? Or swimming with the fishes? I don’t even like fish. And I just got new shoes. I don’t need concrete ones.” My brain was still trying to take it all in, so I let my mouth run wild.
“You seem to attract trouble,” Garcia said.
“Maybe trouble attracts me.” I grimaced and shut down the runaway train of my free-form thoughts. “That didn’t really make sense.”
“Very little you do makes sense, and yet every time I see you, I leave with a smile.”
Was Garcia flirting with me? Or was he trying to lighten the mood after telling me I was in bed with the mob and likely to die a horrible death if the wedding didn’t go as planned? I typed myself a reminder to find my earmuffs as soon as I got home. I’d seen Reservoir Dogs. How would I tuck my hair back if I only had one ear?
“I can’t bail on her now,” I said. “The wedding is in one week. It’s not her fault who her father is. I’ll do the job I was paid to do and hope for the best.”
“You have my number,” Garcia said. “Call me if you ever need me. I promise no questions.”
“I’ll try not to call because I know that will be a strain for you.”
Garcia smiled and brushed his lips over my cheek. “Watch your back,” he whispered. And then he was gone.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
?“You shouldn’t have made Mario angry,” Bella said after the police had cleared out. We were sipping a calming tea in the lounge while her mother talked to the seamstress about the new set of alterations that would be necessary after the scuffle.
“I have a feeling angry is his natural state of being.” Just like “mob” was his family and Sicilian neckties were probably what he gave to people he didn’t like at Christmas.
I had a strong feeling that Chloe and I had just earned a spot on Mario’s necktie list. We’d headbutted, kicked, and punched him. We’d sent him running out of the bridal shop covered in kitten heel scratches and without a shred of dignity. He was probably waiting outside right now with ten machine-gun-wielding mafiosos in trench coats and fedoras who were going to give us a bullet sandwich when we left the building.
My lungs seized and I bent over, struggling to breathe.
“Simi.” Chloe bent over beside me, her forehead creased in a frown. “What’s wrong?”
“Maaaaaaa. . . .”
“What?”
“Maaaaaaaafffffffeeeee . . .” My throat was closing like it did when I ate poppy seeds. Maybe I was allergic to violence.
“Mafee? Coffee? Do you need coffee? Something stronger than tea?”
“I’ll go ask the shop assistant to bring her a coffee,” Bella said. “I could use one myself.”
“Maaafia,” I managed to spit out after Bella was out of earshot, and then I managed to tell Chloe the rest.
“We attacked a mob boss’s son.” Chloe covered her mouth with her hand, but her shock was real.
“Hence my inability to breathe.” Bile rose in my throat. “He’s probably a made man. Made men have guns. He could have shot us right here in the middle of the meringues. I cut him off when he was trying to swear at me. I told him to say ‘sugar.’ I disrespected him, Chloe. ‘Sugar’ is going to kill me, just like Dad said. My dad was right about sugar.”
Chloe gave my arm a squeeze. “You’re not going to die because of sugar.”
“What if he shows up at my house to teach me a lesson?” My lungs tightened again. “What if he gives me a Sicilian necktie? My neck is my best feature, and it will have to be covered up at my funeral. My mom will be so upset.”
“Put your head between your legs.” She pushed me down gently. “He’s not going to off you because then the wedding won’t happen. He needs you alive.”
“For now.” I sat up and dropped my head in my hands. “What about after the wedding when he decides to clean up some loose ends? We’re loose ends. His men won’t respect him if he doesn’t deal with the women who beat him up and told him ‘sugar.’ We’ve robbed him of his dignity.”
“We’re also going to rob his father-in-law of a $25 million necklace,” she said. “We’re going to rob a mob boss. Think what would happen if we were caught. Why didn’t Jack tell us?”
“I can’t think. My brain is replaying every mob movie I’ve ever seen. Every type of torture. Every death . . .”