Enzo turns the car off, climbing out and opening my door.
I hesitate for a moment before climbing out. I remain quiet as we move into the building, trying to banish all thoughts of running.
“Winter!” a familiar voice calls out.
I look up in time to see a bundle of white flying at me before I’m nearly knocked down. I manage to stay on my feet, vanilla hitting my nostrils at the same time that the voice registers.
I pull back, smiling at Daria. She’s wearing a thick, fluffy white robe, her curls pulled back into a ponytail. Her smile widens as she watches me, “What a cute dress,” she says, running a finger down the fabric.
“Damn, don’t molest the damn girl. From what I saw at the party, you don’t want to have to throw hands with her.” I look up.
There’s a woman already sitting in one of the salon chairs. She’s dressed in one of those white robes as well, a magazine lying in her lap. Damn, people still actually read those outside of TV shows? She looks familiar, her long black hair falling around her shoulders. She has bright blue eyes that watch me closely, before they saunter behind me to Enzo.
A wide smile breaks across her face and I remember exactly who she is.
Isabella Accardi.
Daria and Abramo’s cousin.
The woman that Enzo and Maximo apparently share, often.
I’d met her briefly at a party and she had initially been rude, her attention completely on Enzo as she’d pushed by me. When she’d finally realized I was standing by, her attitude had changed and I’d realized she wasn’t intentionally being catty. But still, I hadn’t got the best read on her personality, other than the fact that she loves to be caught in a Maximo-Enzo sandwich.
Can you blame her?
I lick my lips, shifting uneasily.
“Enzo, what a treat,” Isabella says, climbing to her feet. She has on a pair of yellow salon flip flops and yet she manages to make it look like she’s walking the runway as she glides up to Enzo. I turn my body, watching them as she pulls to a stop right in front of him.
Despite the fact that she just berated Daria for touching me, she does the same to Enzo, much more aggressively. She places her hand on his chest, allowing her fingers to tangle in his jacket.
Enzo’s body goes completely still and for someone who’s apparently fucked Isabella, he doesn’t seem to be comfortable with her touching him.
What almost feels like satisfaction moves through me, and I frown. I turn away from them, finding Daria watching me with a curious look. She opens her mouth to say something before shaking her head and snapping her lips closed.
A door opens and the lady I recognise as Luanna comes from the back, offering me a smile. She’s holding another robe and she walks up to me, holding it out. “Here, lovely, you can go into the back and change. There’s also a pair of slippers in there for you.”
I take the robe and move into the back room, glancing at Enzo and Isabella again before I enter the room. Isabella is still touching him and Enzo is still acting as if she has the plague.
His eyes flick up to find mine and something shifts in his expression.
I close the door.
Once I’m changed into the robe and flip flops, I go back into the spa room. Isabella has abandoned Enzo, who’s lurking by the entrance of the shop, looking outside the window. Isabella and Daria are sitting in the spa chairs, two workers bustling around the room with trays.
Daria points to the empty chair next to her and I sink into it.
“I told you I’d find a way for us to have a girl’s day,” she says with a chuckle.
I lick my lips. “What exactly does this girl’s day entail?” I ask her.
Please don’t fucking say a wax or a hair booking.
Her eyes twinkle as she looks at me. “We’re going to get pedicures and manicures, and then a massage.”
Okay, that doesn’t sound bad.
“Wine?” One of the workers asks, coming up to me with a champagne glass, brimming with red wine.