Page 5 of Unraveled

“Well, that’s a lie.”

“Bambi—”

“You look like shit just came over and took another shit on your head.”

Ouch.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Cara said, grabbing the door to close it in the woman’s face. “It’s time for you to go.”

“Wait.” Bambi put her body into the doorway, effectively stopping Cara from closing her out. “One night, Cara. You can take one night to get out of this apartment, away from this …” Bambi waved at the darkness behind Cara. “Whatever this mess is, and do something. Maybe it’ll be fun. Maybe you won’t have to think for a while. Maybe you’ll even smile. What would it hurt to try?”

It could hurt a lot.

“I’m not even dressed or done up,” Cara said weakly.

Bambi smiled slyly, gesturing at herself. “That is why you have me.”

“I can dress and do my own makeup, thanks.”

“And I will be right here to make sure you actually do it. A new club opened up three blocks away, last week. I happen to know the owner is a great guy, and throws an awesome fucking party. Give it a chance.”

Cara was too mentally tired to argue. Or maybe it was that she wanted to feel normal for a minute. Even if that meant using alcohol and deafening music to do it.

That was that.

“All right,” Cara said. “Give me fifteen minutes.”

Bambi looked her over. “Twenty, at least.”

“You could be nicer.”

“You could look less dead.”

Bitch.

“You’re looking terribly miaou tonight.”

Gian Guzzi gave his mother a kiss on her head. “Mamma, it’s not appropriate to catcall your son. Even when you’re doing it in French.”

“Am I the first woman to tell you that this evening?”

“I came here from the penthouse. Where would I find a femme to catcall me?”

“Well, one would think in your penthouse, considering.”

Gian chose to ignore that jab, if only because Celeste Guzzi meant no harm. She wished for better things for her two sons and one daughter—happier things. At the moment, Gian was the only one of her adult children that she felt was not happy, for a multitude of reasons. Especially at his twenty-nine years of life, she wanted to see more from him.

He could only give what he had.

“I have a club opening,” Gian explained. “New suit, one of several, since the season is going to change.”

“Armani, I think.”

His mother knew her brands well.

Gian smiled. “Oui, Armani.”

“Give me another kiss before you run off to find your father and grandfather,” Celeste ordered, pointing to her cheek, but never looking up from her magazine.