Текст книги "Ruthless People"

Автор книги: J. J. McAvoy

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

SIX

“Murderers are not monsters,

they’re men.

And that’s the most frightening thing about them.”

~ Alice Sebold

LIAM

“Have I taught you nothing?” my father asked, his voice a pitch above a whisper as I read the files on the desk before me.

“No father, actually, you have taught me quite a lot,” I replied before I took another drink of Orlando’s horrible brandy. “Why do you ask?”

“Do not be coy with me boy. What happened between you and Melody today was unacceptable. You beat your wife—”

“She is not my wife yet,” I said, smashing my hand against the oak desk and rising from the chair. “This woman, this Melody Giovanni, is insane, borderline demented, and she took a swing at me. It escalated, and then she . . . she shot me through the fucking leg!”

Sedric glared, his eyes blazing as he stepped forward. “As she should have. You had no right to interrupt her. If the tables were reversed, what would you have done?”

I would have killed the person slowly.

“You cannot possibly be on her side. You should be on my side.” I almost wanted to laugh at the thought. “Imagine if it had been Mom, or Coraline, or Olivia. What would you have said to them if you saw them act as Melody did?”

“What are you? Four? I am on the side of the family, as you should be. It was not your mother, or Coraline, or Olivia. It was Melody. Melody, who will become your wife in less than seventy-two hours. Make peace with her.”

Seventy-two hours? “Why in the hell are we getting married in three days?”

“So you don’t kill each other before the week is out. The press has been notified, and by morning, the world will know. Every gossip column, every news outlet, and every damn mafia member in the world will know the Giovannis and the Callahans are one. This means you two will have to pretend so fucking well, you fool yourselves that this isn’t just some arranged marriage, or so help me God, I will set you both on fire.” The fact that my father, Sedric Callahan, had just raised his voice and cursed in the same breath was proof enough he was serious. He had set a man on fire before . . . two actually.

Taking a seat once again, I turned and stared at the roaring fire that lit Orlando’s office. This day had not gone how I planned, and while my bones were aching for sleep, my mind could not stop racing.

“Son, do I approve of what Melody does? No. I do not, and that is because of the simple fact that I was raised differently. And by a man much more controlling than myself. The strongest survive, however, and the key to survival is to evolve with your environment. We have made so many strides. No longer are we just uneducated thugs with guns. We have evolved, the mafia has evolved, and now it’s your turn. Melody Giovanni is your evolution, embrace it and make peace.”

It was only when the door shut after him that I allowed myself to relax. I filled my mouth with the horrible brown liquid in my hands, but even that didn’t help my mind drift from the beautiful, dark-eyed woman who was to become my wife.

Our moment in the basement made my blood boil and other parts of me ache. She did not fight like a woman, but like a trained man, and the way she had looked—like a lioness about to rip apart her prey—made me want her even more. I almost had her on that damn wall, and she had wanted it. I had felt her nipples respond to me as they pressed against my chest through the thin material of her dress. Her eyes were begging, and her lips had parted for me as she held back moans of pleasure. Even her olive skin warmed beneath my hands. I would have taken her against that wall many times over and given her the pleasure we both hungered for, but instead, the wench shot me. She fucking shot me.

I’d been so shocked and horny that my mind couldn’t even comprehend what had happened. My thigh was burning like fire when she kissed my cheek and walked away. With that one shot, she had proven that breaking her was not possible. She would never convert to what I needed her to be. She was a ruthless savage, and if you cannot break a ruthless savage, you need to figure out how to tame them.

I needed to make Melody understand that she was not above me. That she did not give the orders. That she did not move mountains or cause tornados to rip through the sky.

I did.

I had worked too long and too hard to let anyone stop me, least of all her. I would have rather died than give up my fucking claim to this family. When I found out what my father did for a living, I saw how people created paths for him as he walked in crowded buildings. I watched as governors, senators, bankers, and fucking judges alike kissed his feet. I knew what I wanted to do. Some people, like Neal and Declan, were simply born into the family, but I knew I was born to rule the mafia. It was beyond my fucking calling, it was in my blood. It was what pushed me daily, and the only person who ever stood in the way of that was my father.

I should have taken over on my twenty-first birthday. I looked forward to that day, but not so I could drink legally—I had been drinking since I was fifteen—but because I had wanted to hear him say it. I had wanted to hear my father tell the world that I was to take over the company, but instead, all he did was give me an island and pat me on the back. His explanation was that it is not the time. He was the damn Ceann na Conairte. He made the fucking time, and the rest of us followed it. Melody was eighteen and legal at that point, so it wasn’t as though he was waiting for her. But each year after that, I waited, killing anyone who dared to get in my way, and now to have to deal with my wife-to-be? It was fucking bullshit, and I never saw it coming.

“Today has been interesting, dear cousin,” Declan stated, walking in and heading straight to the bar. Forget crack, we Callahans were addicted to brandy and drank it like it was water.

“Interesting does not even begin to cover what happened today,” I said. “My fiancée shot me with my own gun.”

Declan grinned, the little fucker, before taking a seat on the couch. “How did she manage to disarm the greatness that is Liam Callahan? I have seen you draw, load, and shoot your gun in three seconds flat.”

I frowned, knowing that he knew and simply wanted to hear me say it. Sometimes I wished he would go fuck himself.

“She looks like a sweet little lamb from afar, but when you get close, you find out she skinned and ate the damn thing just to use it as a coat. She’s a beast.” I glared at the fire, remembering similar flames in her eyes as she shot me. It was like she had figured out how to make hell reflect in her gaze.

“I like lamb,” Declan said.

“Shut up, you dick.” I threw my glass at his head, but he dodged it, allowing it to shatter against the wall.

He only laughed. “Does this pent up frustration I feel radiating off you have anything to do with the fact that you want her so badly? That’s how she got the gun. You were feeling her up and—”

“And she took it from me and shot me like a dog. Yes, cousin, that’s how it happened.” I did not want him thinking about her firm ass in my hand or the bullet hole, which was now in my leg.

“And yet, you still want her, you sick fuck.” He drank. “I don’t blame you, though, she is—”

“Finish that sentence and it will be your last one. Cousin or not.” Already I was reaching for my loaded gun.

Raising his hands, glass still in his left, he nodded with a grin. “You are possessive. I wonder what your future wife thinks about that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what she thinks about it, and what would Coraline have to say about your words over Melody?” I asked, knowing full well how pussy whipped he was.

“She would be pissed off, so much so that I hope she shoots me in the thigh. We’ve never had that kind of foreplay before.”

I cringed at the thought of it. “And I’m the sick fucker?”

“No more than you,” he replied, stretching. “Where is the queen anyway? She wasn’t at lunch or dinner. I think I’ve seen everyone but her since then.”

Walking over to the bar, I grabbed another glass.

“Oh, sweet Mary, mother of shit, what did you do?” Declan asked, rising from the chair.

“My mother would have your tongue for speaking like that,” I replied, knocking back a glass before pouring another.

“Not before taking yours for what happened today. I should have known you would retaliate.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I walked over to the desk and gathered my files. “I handcuffed her to one of the chairs in the pool house and left her some dinner. I’ll get her in the morning.”

“You can’t be serious, Liam,” he said, causing me to turn to him. He should have known better than to doubt me.

“Okay, you’re serious.” He frowned. “But you can’t leave her there all night. If this was how she was with a good night’s sleep, imagine how irritated she is going to be in the morning. Do you want her to be like that for your mother?”

He had a point, but I was fucking pissed.

“I’m not going to do it.” If I released her, it would be as though I was saying she was right. That she was Boss. I wasn’t going to bow down to her.

“You hard headed son of a—”

“Mr. Callahan.” Adriana, the ugly duckling, came in, already dressed in an ancient nightgown as though she had come out of the fucking middle ages.

Declan held back his laugh by filling his mouth with brandy, while I just turned to the poor, time-confused girl in front me.

“Yes, ugl . . . Adriana?” I asked.

She glared at me as though she knew what I almost said. “The Boss wanted me to ask you what time you will be departing in the morning?”

Declan spit out the drink in his mouth, coughing like a dying man before laughing hysterically.

I stared at her for a moment before stomping out of the room without answering. I had made sure all her men had been far away. There was no way she should have fucking been able to get out of those cuffs. They were designed by me and made with reinforced steel. Bursting into the indoor pool house, I froze.

“Oh, my dear cousin, you have met your equal, and it is funny as shit to watch,” Declan muttered, standing right beside me as I stared at the broken chair, now resting in its watery grave.

It looked as though a monster had ripped its legs and arms off. Seeing as how I only handcuffed her to one of each, it baffled me. The food was still uneaten and the towels all rested at the bottom of the pool as well.

“I’m going to bed,” I told the grinning fool who was my cousin.

“Sleep with one eye open, cousin, and your hand on your gun. She may just kill you tonight,” Declan said as I walked back to the room I was given for the night.

When I entered, there sat my reinforced steel cuffs in tiny pieces all over my now shot up bed. On top of that, a fucking note by hers truly, in her precise handwriting, with a bullet taped to it.

I came to visit you honey, so we could finish what we started in the basement, but you and your cousin were busy giggling like schoolgirls. Oh well, I hope you have a good night. About the bed, well . . . you can understand right, sweetheart?

Checkmate.

Melody Giovanni

I could hear her laughter ringing in my fucking ears. Checkmate? She thought this was checkmate?

We hadn’t even started playing yet. Beaming, I jumped on the bullet-infested bed, kicking up feathers, before pulling out my phone and dialing quickly.

“Hello, mother? I’m sorry it’s late.”

“I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me. I miss you all. The house is to quiet I can’t think. Oh how is Melody? Is she beautiful? I met Orlando once and he was looker. I’m sure—”

“Yes, I have missed you as well. Yes, Melody is . . . she is one of a kind Mom, one of a kind. I was calling to see if you wouldn’t mind having a welcoming party for her. Just to show her how happy I am to have her in my life.”

“Really? Someone sounds smitten. The whole family?”

I wanted to roll my eyes. “Yes, the whole family. Can you do it? She is almost as maniacal as Olivia.”

“Are you sure she isn’t tired. I thought she just came into town today.”

“She won’t be tired at all.”

“Sure! I’m so excited. I’ll get right on it.”

When she hung up, I grinned. My mother would do what she always did for celebrations. She would go over the top. I knew now that Melody could lie down with the lowest and roll in the dirt like a motherfucking pro. But she wouldn’t be able to contain herself with the family. They shit rainbows and unicorns, and while she was distracted, it would give me time to work on a new lead I had on the Valero.

I was planning something huge for those motherfuckers, and I was going to use information I had acquired from Orlando’s files to do it. The Giovannis’ contacts were now my contacts. I almost wanted to say checkmate fucking now. But I wondered how she would feel when I used her work and multiplied the destruction by twenty. She was playing childish games, and I was no child. This wasn’t about who could outdo whom, this was me proving a point. I would kill two birds with one stone. The Valero would never see it coming, and I would make my mark as the new Ceann na Conairte and Boss.

Sleep tight, my little Giovanni, for tomorrow, you will dance like my very own puppet on strings, I thought, lifting my hand behind my head and grinning.

SEVEN

“We kill everybody, my dear.

Some with bullets, some with words,

and everybody with our deeds.

We drive people into their graves,

and neither see it nor feel it.”

~ Maxim Gorky

MELODY

“Which one, ma’am?” Adriana held up two teal dresses for me to wear for my first day with the bloody Irish clan, but I really didn’t care what I wore as long as I got through the damn day.

“Dr. Anderson, what do you think?” I asked the older man bandaging my wrist. Dr. Anderson was the only doctor I trusted enough to touch me. After all, he was the one who had delivered me, and he had seen more than enough of my injuries to not even bother asking.

He looked up, pushing his thick glasses up his nose before finishing his work on my wrist. “The long-sleeved one would be best to hide your wound. It won’t hide the one on your ankle but that one is not as bad as your wrist.”

He was right. I had used so much force to pull the plastic arm off the chair that it had cut deeply into my wrist. The idiot had made his cuffs with reinforced steel, which made it easy to break the chair, but it still hurt like a bitch and would scar.

Adriana looked at me waiting. “White heels, ma’am?”

I nodded, rubbing my wrist once the doctor let go. I had to fight the urge to throw this damn ugly ring down the drain every time I looked at my hand.

Fedel held the door open for Dr. Anderson, but not before handing him an envelope with more than enough money to make sure he wouldn’t have to work for a while.

“Ma’am, after the announcement of your and Mr. Callahan’s wedding this morning, I have a few magazines, charities, and interviewers looking to have a moment with you,” Fedel told me with a phone in his hands.

After rising from my chair, Adriana handed me the dress as I walked behind the screen.

“Fedel, do I look like Martha fucking Stewart?”

“No, ma’am. I would never think you would be foolish enough to end up in jail.” He cleared his throat, and I laughed. Stepping out from behind the screen, I let Adriana drop the white heels at my feet.

“Then tell them to go fuck themselves.”

“That would not be wise, mio bambino dolce.” My father coughed as he was wheeled in by his nurse.

Walking over to him, I kissed him on the cheek.

“Why can’t I tell them to fuck themselves?” I asked him as Adriana handed me my bracelets.

“Because, to the rest of the world, you are the fiancée to one of the most powerful men in this country—the prince of Chicago. You aren’t the Boss to them. They want a Kate Middleton or a first lady, someone to kiss babies and write big checks on behalf of your fiancé,” my father snapped at me, causing me to stop and just stare into his dying eyes.

“Fedel. Adriana. Leave.” In seconds they, along with my father’s nurse, were gone. “You’re still mad that I shot him.”

He frowned at me. “I do not have time to hold on to anger. And yet, here you are, forcing me to waste time to discipline you.”

Shaking my head, I smiled. “You should be proud I didn’t kill him. He is a spoiled brat who thinks he was born in the nineteen-twenties when women served their husbands and bowed down to their will. I’m not now, nor shall I ever be, any man’s arm candy.”

“Melody.” He sighed, using my full name like when he was annoyed or pissed. “You are as hard-headed as your mother.”

“Thank you. I will take that as a complement.” I turned away from him.

“It was not one,” he hissed. “Have you forgotten why you wear the white shoes?” My whole body froze for a moment, and a chill ran up my spine.

“That was a low blow, Orlando.” I sneered at him and took off the damn white shoes before walking into my closet. Most of my things had already been taken out and were en route to Callahan Manor. I had left some of the things I would need in my closet here. One never knows when I would need a personal moment away from the leprechaun.

My father wheeled in behind me. “I will not go to my grave knowing that this marriage is condemned and that, yet again, two people who are made for each other will not swallow their pride, lower their swords, and act as fucking equals! You, Melody Nicci Giovanni, will not walk the same path your mother and I did. You will support your husband, guide him when needed, and stand by his side and his side alone. You will be a damn Callahan, and you will make sure both families, past and present, rise!” he yelled, not once coughing or even so much as blinking for that matter. Had I closed my eyes, he would have sounded like the Orlando I used to know.

“What happened with you and Mom is not the same,” I replied, slipping on the tan shoes, while in the back of my mind a voice told me to change back.

“But the outcome will be if you do not take my advice. Make peace with him Melody. Remember how long it took me to adjust to you as Boss? Prove it to him. Prove it to them all, and do it without making your husband the fool so I can rest in peace.” The tenseness in his voice dropped before he coughed again, returning to the sick man that he was now.

I hated the thought of having to prove myself. I had done that for years—proving to every man we interrogated, every boss I took down, every crackhead with a big mouth, and even with my men. I thought I was done with that phase of my rule, and yet here I was again.

“Don’t think too long about it, we’re not all still in our twenties.” Orlando smiled at me, and even though he was only a shadow of the man I used to know, that smile always made me smile.

Walking behind him, I pulled his wheelchair back before exiting my closet for the last time.

“Fine, I will try, but if he treats me like a doormat or worse, Martha Stewart, I am shooting him in the other thigh.” I was only half-joking.

“That is all I ask,” he said as he was wheeled out of my bedroom. Adriana and Fedel’s backs straightened as they followed us down the hall.

“Fedel, are the houses finished?” I asked him, walking slower than needed, but I was in no rush to get to my destination.

“Yes, ma’am, they are. Most of our equipment and technology has been moved into the basement, and the men were moved last night. However, they want to stay away from the Irish for as long as possible.”

“So would I.” I muttered.

When I had found out whom I was to marry years ago, I had slowly but surely bought, bribed, and taken “government-protected” lands just far enough away from the Callahan Manor to give my men a place for their families that was nearer to where I would be staying. The houses were not anything close to Callahan Manor or my home here, but they were nice, common family homes that would typically be found in the suburbs of Chicago. We had started building three years ago, a task I left to Antonio and Fedel to complete.

“Are you ready?” Orlando asked me.

My father’s right-hand man since he was a teen, Fiorello, stood at the door waiting for us to answer before opening. He was the only one, with the exception of a cook and a nurse, who my father wanted to stay with him here. Fiorello had been tortured by the Valero once upon a time, for dirt on my father, which left him with the scar that now graced his face. He fought his way out and came back, asking only for a doctor and a large glass of red wine. I knew my father was going to be fine. I just wasn’t sure if I was.

Nodding, I signaled for Fiorello to open the door. Beside me, Orlando’s nurse took her place at his wheelchair. The moment the door opened, I was met with four pairs of eyes staring at me, each more beautiful than the last until they fell on Liam, whose green eyes were glued to my legs. His gaze lingered a little on the bruise at my ankle before wandering up the rest of my body meeting mine. His lips were turned in a frown, but in his eyes were filled with lust.

“Ma’am.” Monte walked over to me, handing me an iPad. He must have put all the information on Ryan Ross here. I took it from him before walking toward my new famiglia, or teaghlach as it was called in Irish.

“Good morning, am I late?” I asked as kindly and brightly as possible.

“No, ma’am, just thinking you’re beautiful this morning,” Declan replied trying to take my hand to kiss it but I pulled back.

His cousin did not seem to get it because Neal opened his arms as if he were about give me a hug. “Save your fancy words, she looks fucking hot. Simple.”

“Let me make this clear to the both of you. Touch me and I will strap you down then take every last bone out of your bodies. Understood?” I asked him with a smile. His arms dropped and Declan kept his hand in his pocket.

“Beautiful.” I added.

“Stupid Irish brut,” Fedel hissed lowly in Italian.

“Senza rispetto,”⁶ Monte said softly. He was all about respect.

“Enough you fools. We are going to be late. Your mother says it’s mayhem outside the manor. Let’s go,” Sedric told them before winking at me. The old pervert.

They walked toward their cars, leaving me alone with Liam and his brand new black, Audi. He said nothing, opening the door for me and then closing it when I took a seat. He didn’t say anything when he took his seat beside me either, and I didn’t need him to. In fact, I had work to do.

According to the files on my tablet, Amory Valero had gotten out of prison, a secret the Valero were trying to hide from the world until they released the savage for their own personal use. Apparently, from what Ryan spilled to Monte and Fedel, they wanted Amory in Brazil to attempt to steal my fucking cocaine. They must have been on fucking cocaine to think that it was going to work. But this was what the Valero did, it was what they were good at . . . the fucking thieves. For years, they had stolen whatever they could from my family. The leader, Amory’s father, Vance, was all but run out of Italy by my father. Instead of withering into nothing, however, he resorted to the black market. If it was worth a penny, Vance stole it, flipped it, and bought himself more men. If I could, I would hang him by his balls.

“What is that?” Liam’s green eyes narrowed as he tried to read the encrypted files all while the driver in front pretended not to even be in the car.

None of your business, you motherfucking Irish asshole.

“Work,” I replied instead, trying my best not to speak my mind. I knew needed to listen to Orlando, but the look of anger and disgust in Liam’s eyes made me want to shoot him in the dick.

He tried to pull himself back. “You should relax today. It’s a day for family.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” I smiled. “I slept like a fucking baby.”

Because I got out of the chair you fucking chained me to like a dog, you bitch ass motherfucking cock.

He glared at that. “So did I, in fact. The bed was not what I am used to, but I am not one to complain.”

Unless you don’t get what you want. Then you just cry like a newborn baby who had his ass slapped.

I smiled again before looking back at the information in front of me.

“You should know that my mother is not fond of cursing, especially in women. To her, women who have to curse are classless, brainless, and foul.” He stretched every word out as I crossed my legs, my beautiful sexy legs. He could not look away.

I grinned. “You don’t fucking say? Well damn, ain’t that a mother-shit-fucking bitch? Don’t worry, Callahan, I am not going to cock it up. In fact, I am going to try my absofuckinlute best not to curse in front of Mama Callahan.”

His eyes blazed. “Stop the car,” he told the driver, who stomped on the brakes.

Liam grabbed the iPad from my hand, a bottle of brandy, and then stepped out of the car and poured it all over the poor device before dropping his lighter, flame blazing, on top of it. It went up so quickly that I could hear the glass cracking. Stepping back in the car, he ran his hands through his hair before adjusting his jacket and tie.

“Go on,” he told the driver.

Remember Orlando.

“A tad bit immature, don’t you think?” I asked, not bothering to look over for fear that I might smack the shit out of his face.

“You don’t fucking say?” He repeated my words. “But it was either the tablet or you, and since there are dozens of photographers and reporters all waiting to see a happy couple, I figure killing you wouldn’t go over well.”

“You better hope it burns thoroughly,” I said, breathing through my nose.

He sighed. “Knowing you, love, I wouldn’t doubt if it had a self-destruct switch.”

“Do I look like James fucking Bond?” I smiled. It was a compliment, and he didn’t even know it.

He glared, realizing his slip only a moment later. “No. More like a black widow.”

“Even better.” I laughed, looking out my window. It did have a self-destruct switch, but he didn’t need to know that.

Leaning back, I allowed myself to drift, trying to forget about the beautiful asshole beside me and the world he was taking me to. Gone was the underground secret life, where no one knew who Melody Giovanni was, and I could just be Mel, the fucking Boss. Gone were my days of absolute freedom. Marriage was a horrible, horrible idea, and I should have said no to my father, but the bastard had me locked into it. I had to think on the bright side—no more wasted money or blood as we try to get our drugs from South America into Miami and then the rest of America. No more wars in the middle of downtown Boston or San Francisco. The amount of money I . . . we . . . would make now was so fucking ridiculous it would make Bill fucking Gates shit bricks.

When Liam’s hand took mine, I jumped, pulling a knife from my thigh before either of us could even blink. He stared at me wide-eyed, then smirked at the large blade in my grip before looking at my thigh. I could see the question perfectly—how the fuck did I have it so well hidden?

“It’s time,” he said, nodding out the window at all the cameras waiting just outside a pair of black iron gates with a C in the center. I hadn’t even noticed that we had arrived, and now all the Callahans and media were waiting on us.

Sliding the hem of my dress up, I slid the knife back into its holster only to find Liam trying to burn a hole in me with his gaze.

“I killed the last man who looked at me like that,” I said, waiting to see the disgust at my words, but only saw more lust. He was getting excited, and the last thing we needed was that in print. “For the love of God, control yourself Callahan. Your mother, the woman who whipped your ass as a child, is waiting for you.”

That did it.

“Try not to be a bitch,” he snapped as he tapped on the window, signaling the driver to open the door.

The moment it did, camera flashes assaulted us. Liam pulled me closer to him, his arm around my waist, and I used the opportunity to try to fix his sex hair. He kissed my cheek when I was done, causing reporters to throw as many questions as possible at us. I wanted to flip them off, but Liam squeezed my hand, and I smiled squeezing back. To them we looked like lovesick fools. If they only knew.

A stunningly beautiful woman, who could only be Liam’s mother, stepped forward from the clan behind her. “Liam, put some room between you and the poor girl, we are Catholic for goodness sake.”

She pulled me into a tight hug, and I knew where Neal got it from. These people needed to stop touching me.

“Mrs. Callahan, it’s such a pleasure to meet you. Liam could not stop ranting and raving about you,” I said as politely as possible.

“Please call me Evelyn, my sweetheart.” She smiled brighter than the sun. “You have no idea how long I have waited to meet you, and no wonder your father hid you away, you are so beautiful, Melody.”

I dropped my head for effect before smiling. “Thank you Mrs . . . Evelyn, but please just call me Mel. My name doesn’t fit my personality at all. I can’t carry a note.”

Nodding in pleasure as she pulled me forward. From the corner of my eye, I saw the shocked look on Liam’s face.

Just because I hated the fucking role didn’t mean I couldn’t play it.

He wasn’t the only one surprised. Declan and Neal looked at me in confusion, before looking at each other to make sure they weren’t insane. Sedric just nodded at me with approval, looking a tab bit impressed.

“Mel, these are my other two daughters, Olivia, Neal’s wife.” The Malibu Barbie, with her long gold hair and bright blue eyes glared at me but shook my hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Wow, you’re so beautiful,” I said, smiling.

Her eyes lit up like she had found the true meaning of Christmas. “Thanks,” she said.

Next was Coraline, the rather tall, chocolate-skinned woman with a wide smile on her face.

“Hi. I’m Coraline. I’m glad to finally met you.” She couldn’t contain herself from pulling me into yet another hug.

What the hell was up with these damn people?

“Oh my, Italian silk, very nice.” She grinned when she pulled back saying, “Oh, my God, and the shoes! There is walk-heel-ton for charity next Saturday, you should join me.”

She wants me to ruin my shoes for charity?

“Hi, Coraline.” I smiled at her. “Everyone is so nice. Thank you for welcoming me into your home. You have no idea how nervous I’ve been.”