Page 2 of Daddy's Little Spy

“Of course.” Receptionist Girl ran a critical eye over Diana’s department store jacket and knock-off purse. Judgement poured off of her in waves. “We require a fifty-percent payment up front for all scheduled services.”

Forcing back the instinct to punch the girl in the face, Diana fished her wallet from the purse and handed over the credit card she’d opened specifically for her visit. When she signed the slip, it was only her years of training that kept her rising panic from showing on her face.

This was going to put far more than a dent in her savings. And Amara visited this place frequently enough to be on a first name basis with the owner?

Whoever said crime didn’t pay was a fucking moron.

With the signed slip tucked away in a drawer, Receptionist Girl rounded the desk. “Allison will be your attendant today. Follow me, please.”

She was introduced to another impossibly thin, impossibly beautiful girl with thick auburn hair pulled up in a high ponytail. Allison, at least, didn’t look like she’d smelled something awful when she shook Diana’s hand and guided her to the back for the shampoo and deep condition Diana had selected.

Lady Luck had obviously taken a shine to Diana, since she found herself seated just a couple sinks away from Amara. With her head tilted back, her eyes closed, she looked just like any other woman enjoying a day at the spa.

Did anyone here know she was a ruthless killer? Had they heard the rumors swirling around the darkest parts of the city’s criminal underbelly? Whispers that Amara’s uncle hadn’t simply vanished, but that she’d murdered him in cold blood so she could take her “rightful” place as head of the Vitali family?

Fury burned in Diana’s stomach, but she forced herself to play her part, mimicking Amara’s position at the sink. Exposing her neck to the room seemed foolish, given her reasons for being there, but even if Amara had any clue who she was, it wasn’t like she would attack her out in the open.

As Allison soaked her hair, Diana wracked her brain for something to break the ice with Amara. But then a set of magic fingers pressed into her scalp and her mind went completely blank. Instinct took over, a low moan escaping before she even realized what she was doing.

At the quiet laugh from her left, she pried open an eyelid. The embarrassed smile she sent Amara’s way wasn’t all for show — it was humiliating to be caught so off guard just because someone was washing her hair.

“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.”

Without opening her eyes, Amara waved a hand as if batting away the apology. “No need to apologize. You look like you could use some stress relief.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She couldn’t quite keep the defensive tone out of her voice.

“No offense meant. But you’re obviously a very busy woman. And your posture is very tense.” Now she did open her eyes, turning her head slightly to offer her own apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. I’m very good at reading people and sometimes I forget not everyone appreciates it.”

“It’s all right. I am stressed.” And there it was, her ice breaker. “Just a lot going on at work. I recently found out one of my coworkers is passing company secrets to the competitor.”

“The bastard.” The venom in Amara’s voice paired with her wide grin made her seem much more likeable than she should. “What kind of business are you in?”

Shit. Diana hadn’t prepared for this at all. Rookie mistake. “Closets,” she said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“Closets.” Amara’s lips twitched with obvious amusement. “And is there fierce competition in the closet industry?”

“Absolutely. We’re working on a sock dispenser that will revolutionize the industry.” For once, her penchant for binge-watching sitcoms on her off days was coming in handy. “That is, if we haven’t been sabotaged by this coworker.”

“Why do you think he turned on you?”

“Money, if I had to guess.”

Amara made a low humming sound in her throat as her attendant slathered a thick, black goo over her face. “In my experience, money is a powerful motivator no matter what type of business you’re in. What are you going to do about your mole?”

“I have to finish putting my case together and then… well, then I’m not sure.” Turning Franks over to the brass was the obvious next step, but what if they were just as dirty? Or at least dirty enough to turn a blind eye?

“You have to eliminate the threat. There’s no room for wishy-washiness when it comes to business. Even when it’s just closets.”

Tread carefully, Clarke.“You sound like you have some experience.”

“I do. I’ve experienced my fair share of betrayal in my business.”

“What kind of business are you in?”

“Shipping,” Amara replied without a second of hesitation. “I inherited the business from my father.”

“And you had a mole?”

“That is a story for another time. Do you enjoy the ballet?”

The change of topic nearly made her head spin. “Ah, yes. I’ve only been a few times, but I remember enjoying it.”

“I know this is incredibly forward of me, given we’ve just met, but I have two tickets to a performance of Giselle tomorrow evening and my husband is unable to attend. Would you like to join me?”

“I would love that. What time should I be there?”

“I’ll send a car for you, just text me your address.”

It was a risk, but one that would put her several steps closer to her goal of infiltrating the Rinaldi family and exposing not just them, but the cops they kept on their payroll. “What’s your number?”

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