"I'm sorry," Vera said as she shook her head in the kitchen, pouring herself a glass of water, "could you repeat that? I don't think I heard you right."
It had been three days since I received the text from Luciano, telling me he would accept my condition of leaving Nas alone and giving me the "job."
I signed the contract three hours ago.
"I said, I agreed to do it." My heart was crawling up my throat, attempting to go splat on the countertop. I didn't like the way Vera was looking at me, like there was a dark shadow behind me and she was scared for my life.
"You agreed to be his contracted girlfriend." It wasn't a question, so I didn't reply. She was saying it to herself, to let it sink in.
She took a sip of water and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Then, she looked at me and shook her head. "I have nothing particular to say to you, if I'm being honest."
"You're not going to yell at me? I didn't listen to you, I didn't take your advice." I narrowed my eyes at her.
"What's happened has happened. I can't change it. It was your choice. One thing I'll tell you to do is get a load of tissues to wipe your tears with. You'll need it." She smiled. I could never tell with her. I never knew when she was joking or being very serious, even when we'd lived with each other for almost three years now.
I watched her pull off an elastic band wrapped around her wrist and tie her hair up. "I should take an evening walk."
The moment she was out of the house, I picked up my phone and found three texts from Luciano.
Luciano: I'll be sending a stylist in tomorrow morning.
Luciano: We'll be going to places that require perfect, tailored outfits.
Luciano: What time would you prefer for a person to be at your house?
I typed in a quick response, letting my pride get the best of me.
Me: No stylist. Not part of contract. The clothes I have are perfect.
I may have signed a part of myself off when I took the pen and drawled my name on the papers, but I still didn't want to be into the role so much that I couldn't tell what I wanted anymore. We would make whatever appearances the contract obligated us to make and we would go our separate ways after that.
Not even five minutes later, he sent a text in response.
Lucian: If you say so. I will be heading to the Las Vegas Strip tomorrow night. You're coming with me.
He didn't bother disguising the last sentence as a question. I would be going with him to the Las Vegas Strip, period.
The last time I had been there, I was there with Vera. We had walked around, stuffing our faces with colorful drinks with names I could not recall the morning after.
Me: And what are the specifics of this trip?
He read it, but he never replied.
Not when I sent three question marks later that night as Vera walked in, looking like she did more running than walking.
The elastic band was gone from her hair, her afro looking like it was brushed down with her fingers to keep them in place.
She flopped on the couch beside me and smiled at me. "You know what? Since you're already – I don't know – trapped in this whole situation, I can only tell you one thing."
Her smile hinted that she wanted me to ask what it was that she had to say, so I did. "What?"
"He's rich, and he'll get you whatever you want. Before you get dumped unexpectedly or something worse, start up your business and make your own money."
"And by "something worse," you mean…?" I raised a brow at her.
She simply shrugged. "Whatever happens that's worse than getting dumped by Luciano D'Angelo, I guess."
I let her have a minute of silence before spilling the question that had been swirling in my head for quite a while.
"Is there something going on between you and Matteo?"
Almost immediately, she snorted. "If I had a penny for every time someone asked me that or hinted at it, I would be richer than my own father."
"I mean…" I shrugged, giving her a teasing smile. It was quite obvious something was there, even if they both denied it.
"No. Don't try to lump me with that idiot." I laughed at that.
I found it quite funny how she turned away at the mention of Luciano's name but wouldn't hesitate to call Matteo an idiot.
"We should get to bed," I suggested.
"Right after I take a shower." She stood up and trudged to the bathroom as I grabbed a silk scarf and secured it over my head. I really needed to get my hair done, but that would set me back a few hundred dollars.
He's rich, and he'll get you whatever you want.
Attempting to test my luck solely on Vera's words, once again, I pick up my phone and send an impulsive text.
Me: I need to get my hair done, but I don't have enough money. You can send a bit from my contract fees and cut it off during the full payment.
He never replied to that one, either.
"Worth a shot," I mumbled to myself as I fell asleep with my phone in my hands.
~~
"The minute I get whoever's out there, they'll be sorry." I heard the familiar sound of Vera's voice. There were loud bangs coming from somewhere around the house, but I was too sleepy to try and put two and two together.
The moment I started to drift back into sleepiness, someone's silhouette came into view. I turned my head to the other side, facing the wall so nothing would distract me from sleep.
"Is she always this eager to go to bed?" A familiar voice resonated, forcing my eyes open. I had to be hallucinating, hearing things.
"Most of the time. Should I wake her up?" Vera asked.
"Please."
Seconds later, I felt my back being hit with a pillow – Vera's usual way of getting me to wake up.
I groaned as I rolled around in bed and glared at Vera, who had an annoyed look on her face.
Luciano stood beside her, his hands crossed as he looked from me to her with an undecipherable face.
"Get up. Someone's waiting outside to help you braid your hair," he announced.
Just then, I reached for my phone which I had placed under my pillow sometime in the middle of the night.
There were six missed calls from him, but I was not focused on that.
I looked up at him incredulously. "It's five a.m."
"And?"
"You couldn't have waited until ten, at least?" I shrugged, grunting as I got out of bed.
"You didn't pick up the phone."
"It's five a.m.," I repeated, hoping it would click in his head and he would realize that, well, it was five a.m.
"I heard you the first time. Get ready and go out to the living room. I'll be heading out in a bit. By the way, you should be ready by seven this evening for the Strip."
Too much information was being dumped on me, but I nodded so he would be off soon enough for me to catch my breath.
He simply stood there, staring at me as if I had something to say and he was eager to listen.
"I'll go brush my teeth." I turned, heading to the bathroom.
By the time I got out of the bathroom, I was introduced to Asha, who – according to Luciano – would now be in charge of braiding my hair whenever I wanted it. I wouldn't have to pay.
Asha suggested French curl braids, which I agreed to.
It took seven hours for me to stand up from the chair out on the porch. I stretched my back as Vera got out of the house to check on us for the fourth time.
Asha gathered her materials into her bags. Vera and I gave her helping hands until she was done and left.
"See? I told you he would get you whatever you asked for. You just have to enjoy it." Vera shrugged.
"How do I look?" I attempted to narrow my eyes at her, but the action made my braids tug at my forehead.
"Stunning." She blew me a kiss.
"That's a good thing amidst all of the nervousness I feel. Luciano wants to take me somewhere tonight, and I'm scared of the fact that we'll probably have sex or something."
She laughed with a roll of her eyes as we entered the house. "Please, don't tell me you're shy all of a sudden. He's not the first person you'd be sleeping with."
"Yes, but…" My words hung in the air as I headed for the kitchen. My stomach was rumbling.
"But what?" Of course, Vera wouldn't let it go so easily.
"I'm afraid of how he'll react when he sees it." My eyes traced their way to my thighs covered by my pajamas where there was an unsightly L-shaped scar from years ago.
It was my biggest scar and, ultimately, my biggest insecurity. It had scared potential lovers away from the room. Some found it uncomfortable to look at, others found it amusing to make jokes about.
Her teasing smile dropped and her eyes widened a tad. "He doesn't know?"
I shook my head.
"Fuck, Jazz," she whined.
"Do you think he's going to say something horrible?"
"I guess you just have to find out."