Page 83 of Velvet Cruelty

“Your son?” I say. “You live here together?”

“We do. It’s been great for Sal since his divorce.” Harvey glances at the door then gives me a big grin. “Would you like to meet him and the others?”

The idea of meeting more men is a little scary but Harvey’s excitement is cute. “That would be lovely.”

He leaves by the door we came through and I add milk to my cereal and try not to think about how dirty my bowl might be. You can tell this is a house only men live in. Aside from the mess, it’s freezing cold. Maybe this is why Adriano is in such a bad mood all the time.

I’m scraping up the last of my cereal when there’s a knock at the door. Harvey reappears with a bald-headed man and a middle-aged guy with droopy eyelids.

“Dolmio and Schnee,” he says. “Sal’s napping and I couldn’t get that grumpy bastard Gretzky to come see you. Oops. Apologies for swearing.”

“That’s completely fine.” I stand, extending my hand to the middle-aged guy. “Hi, I’m January.”

“I know,” he says, rubbing his nose. We shake hands. Mr. Schnee’s touch is as limp as wet noodles.

The younger guy, Dolmio, grins at me. “You’re eighteen.”

“I am.” I hold out my right hand. “How old are you?”

“Thirty-nine.” He holds out his left hand and the two of us stare at each other. But when I withdraw my right hand and hold out my left, he changes hands too, leaving us unable to shake again.

“Christ,” Harvey mutters, elbowing Dolmio to one side. “Just go back to the security room, okay?”

“Okay,” Dolmio agrees. He leaves the room, whacking his shoulder on the doorframe.

“Sorry,” Harvey says to me. “He’s a family friend and he’s still in training.”

“It’s fine. He seems nice.”

“Hmm. Anyway, have you decided what you’d like to do today?”

“Could I maybe… call my sister?”

Schnee’s heavy eyebrows lift. “No.”

“Okay, well…” I mentally scan the options Harvey suggested but I don’t feel like doing any of them. My gaze falls on a velvet chair stacked high with pizza boxes. “Could I maybe… clean up?”

The men exchange uncomfortable looks.

“That’s sweet of you, Miss,” Harvey says slowly. “But I’m sure that’s not what Mr. Morelli had in mind.”

“I know, but I’d like to feel useful.” And if it convinces the others to be nicer to me and possibly not kill me or send me to Italy, that would be a bonus.

Harvey looks at Schnee who shrugs, wiping his nose again. I really wish we hadn’t shaken hands.

“I suppose there’s no harm…?” He tells Harvey.

I beam at them. “Amazing! Do you have any cleaning supplies?”

Schnee shows me to a small closet full of rubber gloves and leaking bottles of cream cleanser.

“Do you… want a hand?” he asks.

“Not at all.”

“Great, I’m allergic to dust.” He swipes a hand over his runny nose. “Okay, well there’s an intercom in every room. Press the middle if you need us.”

“Sure.”

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