Page 73 of Just a Friend for the Lion
Uzzi ignores him, eyes locked on me. “You owethe girl a grand gesture, Carter Leone. So let’s clean up this mess—literally—and build her one.”
I stare down at my mop, my reflection warped in tomato sauce, and for the first time in days hope flickers.
Because maybe—just maybe—the magical matchmaking Witch is right.
Chapter 24
MJ
It’s been five days.
Five days of Carter Leone flooding my phone with messages.
Five days of bouquets showing up at Pizza Girls—daisies, roses, one truly awkward basket of sunflowers with a card that read For my Sunshine.
And five nights of me lying awake, phone clutched to my chest, trying not to hit call back just to hear his voice.
God, I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.
Part of me just wants to storm over to Lion Limousines & Livery to demand some answers.
The other part of me is terrified I won’t like what I hear.
“Look, I know it’s hard, MJ,” Dina says, tossing back a handful of popcorn like we’re not in the middle of a crisis. “But stay strong. Uncle Uzzi has a plan, and I think you should trust him.”
“Trust him?” I huff, flopping against the couch cushions. “You mean the same meddling Witch who invented the app that matched me with Mr. Tall, Golden, and Bad-for-My-Blood-Pressure? That plan?”
Carina waddles in from the kitchen, balancing a plate of cookies on her belly like it’s a built-in tray.
“Don’t sass the Witch. He’s smarter than all of us put together.”
“Please,” I mutter, burying my face in a throw pillow. “I don’t need another scheme. What I need is answers. From him. Not some magical field trip to God-knows-where with Uzzi’s sparkly business cards leading the way.”
Dina smirks, clearly enjoying herself way too much. “Then you’re in luck, baby sister. Because Uzzi’s plan? It’s all about getting you those answers. Face to face. And soon.”
“Soon?” My stomach twists. “Define soon.”
Dina just grins wider, a little toowolfishly for comfort.
“Soon, MJ. Like get-your-pretty-dress-ready soon.”
Well, if there’s one thing my sisters are good at, it’s distraction.
Case in point: today.
“You cannot sulk in flour-stained jeans for the rest of your life, MJ,” Carina scolds, tapping her nails against the salon chair as the stylist whips out a blow dryer.
“You’re gorgeous. And tonight, you’re going to remember it.”
“Tonight?” I echo, panic fluttering in my stomach. “What’s tonight?”
“Girls’ night,” Dina says smoothly from the next chair over, smirking into the mirror as a colorist rinses her hair. “No worries. Just us. Well, us and our mates. And you.”
“Uh huh,” I mutter, narrowing my eyes. “Translation: this is a setup.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Carina sing-songs, though her grin totally gives her away. “Now hold still. Your curls are getting the royal treatment.”
The stylist runs a comb through my hair, and I want to sink into the floor. I am not used to this kind of pampering. My life is pizza ovens andmarinara stains, not scalp massages and fancy hair masks that smell like hibiscus and champagne.
