Cruel Summer

“Okay, well, I have plans for us to shop until my brother’s credit card declines, so I’m going to need for you two to stop your pissing contest,” Daria thankfully steps in. She shoots a warning look at her cousin, dissipating her argument with Lucia. She turns, grabbing onto my arm and looping it through hers. She starts dragging me. “I want to hit up this nice little dress store first. I have a lot of appearances to make before the wedding and I don’t want to be caught wearing the same thing over and over again.”

She says it so casually that I’m reminded she isn’t a civilian or come from a hard life like me. She may be a bastard, but she was raised in luxury.

The store that she guides us into isn’t actually little, it’s huge, with an escalator that goes up to a second floor. The dresses are divided up into sections, my eyes catching on some of the different signs: bridal, prom, casual.

“We can start over there,” Daria says pointing to the formal section. “My engagement party is coming up and we need to get dresses for that.” She’s talking so fast that her words are nearly blurring together. My brows lift but when I look at Isabella her face is bored, as if this is normal. I think back to one of the parties when she’d been talking a thousand miles an hour.

She’s like a ball of energy.

Daria continues to talk and drag us along, Lucia and Salvatore following closely. She keeps the conversation going, needing no replies from any of us. I find it highly entertaining and it relaxes me, knowing there aren’t any expectations to give her a reply.

“This one would look nice on you,” she says, cutting a look to me as she plucks a dress off of the rack. It’s a long body con evening gown, the same shade of blue as the old school shower to shower baby powder bottles. Sequins dance along the top of the dress, along the bust and the two thin straps.

It’s beautiful.

My brows pull together as I realize I have no way to pay for anything. I hadn’t thought to bring the money I’ve collected from tips at the club. It’s still sitting in the bottom drawer of my night stand.

“Oh,” Lucia’s voice catches my attention. I turn, finding her sliding her hand into her back pocket. She pulls out a thin, black card, waving it around. “I forgot to tell you, cousin dearest is paying for this trip.”

“Which one?” I ask even though I’m ninety percent sure which one.

“Giovanni, of course.”

Of course.

“Oooh, Daddy Giovanni is paying?” Isabella drifts close to Lucia whose lips press into a thin line. Isabella ignores the reaction, peering at the card before turning to look at me. “In that case, you better run that credit line up, girl.”

Giovanni’s face flashes through my mind and I think about the way he’d asserted dominance over me the other night, making a point to try to break me. He’d kept true to his promise, taking me brutally and without a concern for how I felt about it.

I eye the card.

“Let’s run it up.”

And for the next two hours we do. Daria uses her brother’s credit card, denying my offer to use Giovanni’s card. I know money is no consequence to the Costas, but I want his jaw to at least tick a little bit when he gets his bill for my expenses. Isabella is the opposite of Daria, piling things up left and right. Salvatore carries all of our bags and even with how big and strong the man is, I have no idea how he manages it.

Lucia says she’s a bodyguard, not a servant, so she doesn’t help.

When we finally stop at the food court to eat my feet hurt, but a floaty feeling moves through me and I smile at Lucia and Isabella as I plop into my seat.

“Pizza?” Daria asks.

“I’m fine with pizza,” I tell her. I can’t remember the last time I ate anything greasy and unhealthy. The food that Donna fixes is typically more high class, even her pancakes are over the top.

“Sally, go order us a couple of meat lovers,” Isabella directs the man as she kicks back in her seat.

Salvatore’s jaw clenches. I’ve learned over the last couple of hours that he’s quiet and his demeanor is broody, but he’s a secret softy. Anytime Daria or Isabella makes a request, he jumps to do it with one of those grunts as if he’s reluctant. And he keeps a sharp eye on them at all times, catching Daria when she misses a step in her overexcitement, and putting a hand on Isabella’s elbow to drag her away from whatever person has caught her attention.

He hesitates now though and I realize it’s because the pizza place is all the way on the opposite side of the food court.

“Don’t worry,” Lucia drawls. She’s standing in-between my chair and Daria’s, her shoulders tight and her arms folded over her chest. She hasn’t broken out of her stoic, bodyguard persona since we started shopping. I decide I like the more relaxed, trouble causing Lucia. “I won’t let anything happen.”

Salvatore hesitates for another second before blowing out a long breath. “You have your guns?” he asks, his gaze moving back and forward between Isabella and Daria.

Daria nods while Isabella holds up her oversized purse and gives it a pat.

Salvatore gives a nod of approval before leaving.

“You both walk around armed at all times?” I ask in surprise.

Giovanni had put me in training with Enzo to learn how to handle a gun in case it was ever needed, but he hadn’t given me my own permanent weapon. For obvious reasons. But it still seems odd that Daria and Isabella walk around with their own guns. They’re both well protected women from what I’ve seen and Daria has both the Accardis and the Damone family to protect her.

“Of course,” Daria says, pushing a curl out of her face. “My brother makes sure that we aren’t walking around like sitting ducks. He doesn’t believe in the whole old school role of women not being able to defend themselves. He’s always preaching that we never know what could happen, our guard could get taken out or killed and then it’s up to us to protect ourselves. He beefed up on my training after my marriage arrangement, as if I’m not willingly marrying Lorenzo.” She rolls her eyes, but I think it’s nice that she has a brother who cares enough to protect her.

Richard used to be that way when we were younger.

The remainder of our trip is nice and peaceful, the food good, the company better.

Once again, I’m disappointed when our day is over. Daria promises that I’ll see her at her engagement party in a couple of weeks, but it still doesn’t take away my sadness.