Page 16 of Mafia King: Matteo
“Good to know.”
Izzy nods and sips her water as our food is delivered.
“So, how are you feeling?”
“Amazing. However, pregnancy is getting old. Soon, I won’t be able to reach my feet,” she replies, rubbing her belly.
“You must be so excited,” I squeal with happiness. My best friend is in love with her husband, and they are perfect for each other. Dmitry’s gruff, take-charge demeanor softens when Izzy enters the room. She’s his princess.
“I am. I didn’t expect to be a mother so young, but my mom had me young, too. I am so happy I found my father. It’s given me so much to be grateful for.”
“Yeah, like surviving the hunt of being a deer in winter,” I reply sarcastically.
“Yeah, there’s that. I try not to think about it. How are you doing with your panic attacks?”
I shrug. “As well as can be expected, I guess.”
“Do you have your resume? I mean, are you going to join the workforce?”
“Yes,” I emphasize the “y.” “It’s a great idea to have my independence nailed down before I get married, right?”
“Great. I like this newfound independence to seize the day that doesn’t involve men.” Izzy nibbles at her omelet and fruit.
“It’s good to try on your own before you call in favors,” Izzy says, speaking like the mafia-savvy wife she’s become. Funny, if anyone should know how the mafia life works, it should have been me.
Today, I realize too late that I should have taken more notes growing up with my father as the don’s advisor. I spent my time rebelling through men. I should have been sharpening my wits about how the mafia men finesse and manipulate others to get what they want. Those are the skills I need to compete in the business world.
Art, music, and modeling are all cutthroat businesses. I’m used to being taken care of and took it for granted. Now, I realize how fierce the competition will be. I feel inadequate and ill-prepared for the quest I’m about to undertake.
Sex has made me insanely hungry, and I have no problem finishing everything on my plate. Izzy insists on picking up the check. I thank her and toss back the last of my mimosa before we leave.
“Izzy, what did it feel like when you were being followed?”
“Creepy.” She pulls her fur-trimmed hood over her fluffy jacket that looks like a white shag rug, and I love it.
I shrug into my long coat.
“I’ll drive you home,” Izzy says as her driver approaches the curb.
“There’s no need. It’s just my imagination and nothing to worry about,” I argue.
“Get in the car. This is not negotiable. If we learned anything this past year, it’s to trust our instincts,” she says in a maternal tone that I can’t argue with. Damn, she already has her mothering voice down, and the baby girl hasn’t even arrived!
She gets in first and slides over. Then I get in next to her.
“Kirill, I didn’t know you drove,” I say, surprised to see him.
“It seems it’s the only way I get to see you now that you have the condo to yourself.”
He’s not kidding. It’s so true. I feel vulnerable inviting a man into my condo, so I choose to meet people out. Besides, it gives me an excuse to get out. Without school or a job, I get bored staring at four walls. It gets so bad that I exercise to pass the time. I do lunges, combine Pilates and yoga during TV commercials, and throw in a few sit-ups. I have a membership at the yoga studio around the corner from me. I just need to walk there and use it. I tend to work out harder if I have someone to compete with.
“What’s up, Kirill? I’m sorry. I’ve been preoccupied with the marriage that has been put on hold. And now, I’ve been told to get a job.”
He laughs. “You’re kidding.”
“No, it’s not funny. Besides, I find it empowering,” I reply, defending my right to work. I never thought it would happen, but who knows? Maybe I’ll like it and make new friends.
“Sure, you do. All this from the woman who’s centered her life around making daddy happy,” he teases.
