Page 54 of Mafia Rules

“Yup. How do you want to split this? We can group by family.” She sorts the papers in piles, stopping when she observes Hardy and me watching.

“I need food.” Hardy picks up the hotel's menu and flips through it.

“Me next.” Sasha reaches her hand out and snatches the menu from Hardy’s hands. “Pizza?”

“I want meat. I need meat.” Hardy tries to take the menu back, but Sasha holds it just out of his reach.

“They have your favorite, Ash. Bbq.” Sasha says, ignoring Hardy’s attempts at trying to grab the menu from her.

“Stop! None of us want to be here, but if we don’t clean this up,wemight get cleaned up. Order the fucking pizza and meat.We order all our food, and no one leaves this room until we make deals with all these people.” I put my hand on the stack of papers.

“I’ll eat the fucking pizza, but don’t order one of those small ones.” With a grunt, Hardy pushes himself up from the chair and reaches across the table to grab a stack of papers from the top.

Rising, I walk to the window, the lapping of waves filling my ears as I watch the water. This place is romantic. Maybe I’d bring Eve here to see the sunset over the ocean. Take her down to the beach and swim with her.I wonder if she can swim?It's odd how I felt like I knew everything about her, yet simultaneously knew almost nothing after such a short time. I crave knowing all the silly little things about her.

My fingers fumble for my phone, the screen illuminating the empty space where a message from Eve should be, her status stubbornly still showing "unavailable." I texted the only other person who has access to my condo.

Grace.

Ash: Can you stop by the apartment and check on Eve? We left things mad, and I’m worried about her.

Grace: Already here. Eve is, too. She’s not happy, and I don’t blame her. Really? Sasha? I can’t even. She’s packing up her shit.

There’s no way I’m losing Eve because of Sasha.

30

EVE

Just as I’m about to leave Ash’s condo with all my things, Grace — his sister - arrives. She found me on his bedroom floor amidst a chaotic pile of clothes and belongings, frantically stuffing my overflowing bag. Ash left over an hour ago with Sasha.

“Eve?” Grace asks softly, her footsteps barely disturbing the quiet of the room as she slowly enters.

I glance up from my spot on the floor, her familiar face imprinted in my memory from photos around the condo. Not the way I wanted to meet her, but who was I kidding? Ash and I were over, a fact magnified by the emptiness of the condo. He’s with Sasha again or will be soon.

A sniffle escapes me as I wipe my nose on my sleeve and look up at her from the floor. "Yes, you must be Grace?" I force myself to my feet and wipe my hands on my sweater, offering it to her to shake.

Grace grabs me, her hands warm and strong, and holds me securely. Her hands are clasped firmly around me, a tightness that soothes my anxieties.

With gentle, steady strokes, Grace's hand rubs my back. “Let it all out. We all need a good cry now and then.”

Grace was stunning. Her long blonde hair was curled and bounced as she walked. Her large brown eyes, like Ash's, instantly reminded me of him.

“I’m sorry for this.” I lift my arms, gesturing to my general appearance and breakdown.

“What are you doing, Eve?” Grace surveys the disaster zone of my belongings strewn across the floor and my unsuccessful struggle to cram everything into a small bag.

“We broke up.” A sob wracks my body, and I snort in a choked laugh, my breath catching in my throat. I didn’t care what I looked like to Grace. My mind was consumed with thoughts of Ash and Sasha, wondering if they had already been intimate. The last look he gave me before leaving the bedroom was absolute rejection. Like I was something easily discarded.

“What happened?” With a reassuring grip on my arm, Grace leads me to the bed, the soft mattress bending as we sit together. My hands in hers. “This doesn’t sound like something Ash would let happen.”

“He left with Sasha.” I shake my head, disoriented, still struggling to accept this new reality.

“That can’t be. He hates Sasha, and with good reason.” With a slight sniffle, a nose wrinkle, and a look of utter confusion, Grace's expression clearly showed my comment made no sense to her.

“They did. Your father set them up in some hotel together.” I stare at the dark, waterlogged patches on my sweater sleeves.

“Our father.” With a firm voice and a roll of her eyes, Grace speaks. “Well, I know he wouldn’t choose to go there himself.”

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