Page 14 of Entangled Mafia Princess

I had hoped to get the Dom’s name, but he was clearly not interested in me, which is kind of a rare experience. Maybe he likes the more curvy women like Carmen.

But he stared at me, not Carmen, when he was sitting at that table. Had he changed his mind after being with Carmen? Was he playing hard to get? Did he have split personalities?

At least he left open the possibility of returning to the club tomorrow night. And if he doesn’t show, maybe it’s for the best. I noticed his expensive clothes and that he was being chauffeured. Rich people can be obnoxious. I would know because I am one.

I spend the night trying to put him out of my head, but I can’t. Simply recalling the way he stared at me makes me shiver. I end up pulling out my vibrator and come multiple times imagining myself in Carmen’s place beneath his flogger.

The following day, I can’t wait to go back to the club in the evening. Brunch with my parents passes agonizingly slow.

“You’ll get fat if you eat too much of that,” my mom remarks as the waiter sets down a plate of French toast with mascarpone filling and topped with sliced organic strawberries and powdered sugar.

“It’s brunch,” I reply as I look skeptically at Grace's salad. Who has salad for brunch?

I cut into the French toast with zest. “Besides, I plan to work it off on the slopes.”

Dad looks up from his paper. “What is it you said you were going to do?”

Grace shakes her head. “I don’t get why so many Californians like to go skiing. I thought this state was all about the beach scene. And, frankly, I’m disappointed in the beaches here in Northern California.”

“Maybe we could go to Hawaii. Invite the Bradys."

Not interested in going to Hawaii with the Bradys, I say, “I have to be back at school in less than two weeks.”

“So what if you miss a few days? It’s not like you need to get good grades. In fact, you really don’t need a college degree once you marry Kenton.”

I grind my teeth into a bite of French toast.

“By the way, how did it go last night with Kenton?” my dad asks between. “You didn’t come home till late, so I take it that it went pretty well.”

“Honestly, I didn’t feel any chemistry between us,” I answer.

“Give it time.”

“It could take forever and still not happen.”

“Chemistry is overrated. It’s nothing but overactive hormones, and you don’t need it for marriage.”

“I already said I don’t know that I’ll ever want to get married.”

“Who wouldn’t want to marry Kenton Brady? He’s a good-looking young man, he’s confident, and he’s got a bright future ahead of him.”

“There are a lot of good-looking guys with money and bright futures.”

“But Kenton is special.”

“You mean special to you and your business dealings.” I do air quotes around the word business.

My mom sips her cappuccino, then asks, “What else are you hoping for in Kenton?”

I swirl a bite of French toast in the syrup on my plate. “More personality, maybe. A backbone.”

“Backbone?” my dad exclaims in surprise. “You won’t find anyone more confident than him.”

I meet his gaze. “He’s arrogant, sure, but that doesn’t make him brave.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw it with my own eyes. We were in the same restaurant in South Bend. His buddies started picking on these two Muslim girls. He didn’t do anything to try and stop them.”

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