Page 73 of Mafia Fire

I pop my head out of the room to eye Keisha. “Are you serious? The woman just got out of the hospital.”

“Yes, I am. She’s currently lying out in the center of the pool, floating on that giant pineapple float of Booker’s, enjoying a virgin mimosa. Booker insisted on no alcohol, so Cheffie laced it with some sparkling apple cider.” Keisha pops up from the sofa. “Are you ready to go? You look ready.”

“Hang on. Let me just grab my breakfast. I’ll eat it on the run.” I grab the muffin from the counter, splitting it in two. I hand one half to Keisha. “Half-sies?”

“Sure. Thanks. I haven’t even had time to think about breakfast.” She nibbles on the treat as we step into the cool morning air and walk to the club. My flowers have arrived, tall silver vases filled with the black and silver painted flowers, the soft scent of roses filling the foyer.

Kiesha goes to a vase, gently feeling a petal between her forefinger and thumb. “Oh, Kylie! You’ve outdone yourself with this. We’ve never had arrangements this unique. They’re gorgeous.”

“They did come out good, didn’t they. It wasn’t me. The florist just brought my vision to life.” I bend down, getting a deeper scent of rose.

She makes atsksound, clicking her tongue between her teeth. “Kylie, Kylie, always deflecting praise. Can’t you just say, ‘I kicked ass,’ for once?”

“I kicked ass. For once,” I joke.

“You know that’s not what I meant. You’re totally kicking ass here, ladybug. I mean things were always good, but now they’re great. You’re a big part of that.” She loops her arm in mine. “Come, come. Help me boss these boys around. I want the ballroom completely transformed in one hour, max.”

I remember Cannon’s proposition from last night. Doubt plagues me. Have I brought a lot to Fire? Would I be a good co-owner? And what is Cannon’s one requirement of me…

“Keisha…” I want to ask her what she thinks about Cannon’s idea but we’re stepping into the ballroom and she takes off like a shot, going after a group of men who are pushing the grand piano into a corner of the room.

“No! No! No!” She rushes over, stopping them. “The center of the room, please. There’s going to be a pianist, some fancy guy from Rome, playing for the guests as they enter. How can you shove someone so important into a corner?”

I leave her to manage the ballroom, and find my team, the Clean Beans. The other staff groups all had special names, and I thought we should too. I even changed our cleaning uniform. When there are no clients present, we’re in sweats and tees. The ridiculous but very sexy maid costumes are now only for the crew working evenings.

The Clean Beans, like me, love tidiness and order. We do a walk-through to be sure every inch of chrome and glass in the place is totally spotless and perk up any spots we may have missed. Being a group of naturally type-A clean freaks, we find very little work for ourselves.

As we make our way through the club, my eye searches for Cannon but our paths don’t cross. The day flies by and Keisha finds me performing a few final adjustments on the floral arrangements, grabbing my arm, her eyes wide and excited.

She squeals at me, tugging me toward the stairs. “It’s finally time to get dressed!Let’s gooo!”

An hour later, I assess my look in the mirror.

The elegant floor-length black gown I wear is completely sheer. Underneath I wear a bra and panty set made of a thick silver satin material. My hair is swooped up on top of my head in a high ponytail. My dark hair streams down my back, strands of silver woven into thin braids. My eyelids have been done up in silver, long fake lashes framing my eyes.

“It’s pretty hard to believe that just a short time ago, I showed up here in jeans and a hoodie,” I say.

A never-been-kissed virgin overwhelmed by trouble, desperate for a job, searching for protection. Now, I’ve experienced the world of sexual pleasure firsthand, and I even have an IUD hidden inside me, when a few months ago I didn’t know what one was.

My gaze drags over my reflection in the mirror. “And now… look at me.”

She beams at me. “Cannon will love it.”

“I hope so.” After all, he’s the catalyst for the change in me and waking up the sensual energy that laid dormant in my body. And he’s the reason I don’t fear for Nonna and myself anymore. He’s my knight in black armor.

“Last piece.” Kiesha clips a heavy metal clasp around my neck. A long, shimmering, sheer silver cape flows from it behind me. She throws an arm over my shoulders, admiring our reflections. The green and sparkling silver corset of her dress pushes up her amazing breasts. “You look like the sex goddess that you are, babe. Now let’s go!”

The ballroom has been transformed. The grand piano sits in the center, and a handsome young man with a thick mustache, wearing a black tux, sits perched on the piano bench. Rich music fills the room as his long nimble fingers dance over the keys, a look of determination melded with passion on his face.

My hand flutters to my heart, taking him in. “He’s amazing.” I lift my gaze to the sheer black net of fabric that has been stretched across the ceiling. Thousands of white and purple lights are woven into the material, twinkling above us like little clusters of stars.

“If you look closely, you can make out the constellations.” Cannon comes to my side, pointing to a line of three stars. “There’s Orion’s Belt. And over there,” he gestures to a thick grouping of lights, “the Milky Way.”

“It’s unbelievable. So beautiful.” I turn to him, taking him in. He wears a black suit, a black shirt underneath. At least the necktie is silver, and there’s a little silver kerchief peeking out of the breast pocket of his suit jacket. “And you look amazing as well.”

“No.” He smooths a hand down my side, cupping my waist. His gaze travels from the top of my head to the toes of my strappy sandals. “You are the amazing one.”

“It’s all Keisha’s doing. She’s a genius with fashion and makeup.”

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