Page 2 of Delivered in White

He’s not.

“Maybe I’ll come back when I’m not a ball of anxiety, and a little hotel pool doesn’t feel like an ocean. Today’s just not a good day.” I get up and finish drying myself off.

“You said that last time.” Gil leans forward, almost pleading. “You’re going to be stuck in that basement with Jacky forever if you don’t start seeing the world.”

I shrug. That’s not so bad, really. Jacky is hilarious, in a sweaty, disgruntled employee sort of way. And the rest of my lawyer crew gets along well too. They’re not the annoying hard-ass activists who don’t laugh at a joke, but the more reasonable save-the-world types. I fit square into that little puzzle.

“I’m sorry, Gil. But on the bright side, you get paid to do whatever you want for the next two hours.”

He mumbles something about that not being true, and I dare not ask him to repeat himself in case he tries to ask me out or something, so I just head toward the women’s locker room.

“See you Monday?” I ask.

“Guess so. Please don’t tell anyone. It would burn my reputation,” he says, guilting me almost to a stop.

“I would never. This was my fault. I’m just a scared-y cat with less spine than the snakes poisoning the water. Off to that thousandth-and-one agreement.Ciao.”

“Don’t burn yourself out, Capri.” Gil sighs when he knows his efforts are lost.

I head to the women’s locker room and take out my phone. Gil already texted me with a ‘last chance’ message that made me giggle a bit, but I’m not going for it. Next, I scroll through my feed on social media, and my eyes nearly pop out of my head when I see Esko Lucrazi – my father’s latest client – being escorted out of the courtroom in cuffs and straight into a police van.

What the hell?

I cover my mouth. It never ends up that way. Usually, Dad talks to the press for a minute with a sinister grin because he knows he got a guilty asshole out of jail. Yeah, I said it. My dad’s a jerk. He says he does it all for me so we could live in a big house with nice things, but his expression tells me otherwise. Don’t get me wrong, my big burly pillow took great care of me and made sure to pay attention whenever I needed him. But there’s a lot of darkness surrounding us. He loves the underworld, or at least peering into it.

Now, though? He’s in uncharted territory.

I dial him and flip my hair to one side, still ringing it out with a towel. He doesn’t pick up. Probably busy with the press or something. Still, a pang of worry lingers in my gut. Slipping out of my bathing suit and into a dry set of panties, some short-shorts, a tank, and flip-flips and I’m outta’ here.

My feet still squish against my sandals on my way out of the locker room. Cool air from the hotel lobby makes me regret not drying off better, but it’s like a thousand degrees outside, just have to make it there.

“Bye, have a nice day.” I smile while dropping the keycard at the front desk and head out into the heat of summer.

The warm breeze tickles me in just the right way, up my thigh, like the world is reminding me how long it’s been since I had some.

I think of Gil’s stomach. His abs are pretty nice. Even though he’s goofy… there was a slight bulge there to be trifled with.

Oh no you don’t, wind. You’re not pushing me back there. The hell am I thinking.No!

Din-Dan-Don!

My Ring alert goes off at home, and all that the camera shows is a sheet of black. Maybe a leaf fell over it or something. Dad must be getting home.

As Ibeepopen my two-year-old baby – my white Audi A4 – I try him again only to get his voicemail.

“Daddy, I saw the news. I’m sorry. Hope everything is okay. Please call me back as soon as you’re settled in.”

I scoff and throw the phone on the passenger’s seat. Usually I’m not shy in telling him what a jerk he is for defending those murderers, but today I’m a little worried about him. The Lucrazis aren’t known for rewarding failure.

Maybe this was all part of the plan, or something. A reduced sentence only my father could get? Esko was probablydone for with some bombshell evidence that no one could squirm out of. Serves my dad right, honestly. He thinks he’s invincible half the time. Everyone should be knocked on their ass once in a while. Heck, I get slapped around all day – metaphorically speaking. And by metaphorically, I mean by the type of work I’m given. None of the partners would dare talk down to me directly, because of my last name.

Cipriana Dotelli, daughter of the infamous Rocco Dotelli. Everyone calls me Capri, though. And by everyone, I mean my four friends at work and all of the ghost men I wish I were dating.

I’m not a prude, I swear. Things just… never clicked for me. Twenty-four good years, and I’ve never had an orgasm while a flesh rod was inside me. A rubber one though, and by my own hand, well, that’s a different story.

Whatever.

I drive out of the new Crystal Springs resort, which just opened ten miles from my house in dirty Jersey, and head home to comfort my dad. He’s got no one but me and his work. Mom ran off on us when he started cozying up with the Valentino crime family – those old geezers would bring over different women half their age every night. Let’s just say, Mom threw a lot of plates when they left.

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