Page 4 of Cruel Pleasures
What I don’t expect is for Francesco’s profile photo to blink from gray to green. Dots bubble onto the messenger screen.
He’s typing back!
I suck in some air and hold my breath waiting for his reply. It takes only a few more seconds before Lyra’s computer dings, and the message pops up on the screen.
Hello Imani,
I can only imagine you are as beautiful and enchanting as Lyra. She was a very special girl who I wish I got more time with, but if you wish for more answers then you are more than welcome to attend a party for yourself. The parties are very extravagant, and you will have a great time if you choose to show up. They are held at the Winchester. We can meet up to discuss more details if you are available. It would be my pleasure.
Ciao, Francesco
I read the entire message in a throaty Italian accent. He doesn’t seem to care at all that Lyra’s gone, but it’s something I should force myself to become used to—Lyra had few friends and even less family that cared about her. I’m the only damn one even bothering to ask any questions about her disappearance ruled homicide.
It’s true that Lyra and I were best friends, but there was also a side to her maybe I didn’t know as well as I hoped. She never shared much about her family life or childhood. I’d never met anyone else from her past besides Grady, who seemed to always insinuate she was a nightmare beyond what I conceived.
But… damn it. She’s still my BFF. That means something.
Even if she was flawed, even if she was imperfect and maybe as unstable as Grady claimed, I still love her like a sister.
Ironic, since I have five of them who are blood. All of them mean almost nothing.
None of them I’d fight as fiercely for as I would Lyra. We may share the same blood, same mother, and DNA, but the bond stops there.
I’m like Lyra in that way—my family couldn’t give less of a damn about me. Maybe that’s why we got along so well; maybe that’s why I’m so determined now to be the one who cares that Lyra’s gone missing.
Because she’d do the same for me.
She’s the one person in my life who would care if I weren’t around anymore.
On that emotional beat, my heart heavy, my throat aching, I type up a reply to Francesco. I tell him I would love to meet up to talk about more details.
Again, he replies instantly.
Excellent. We will discuss the next event the club is hosting. How about we meet for a coffee at the Java King on Thirty-Fourth Street? Tomorrow at eleven. I will be waiting for you, gorgeous.
Ciao, Francesco
I smirk reading his response, then I reply letting him know I’ll be there. No more than five minutes later, I’m clutching Lyra’s laptop and a tote bag of her most sentimental belongings as I leave the former sheet metal warehouse behind. It’s inky and dark out as I ride the subway home, but my mind’s only on one thing—meeting up with Francesco so I can hopefully snag an invite to one of these Midnight Society parties. Then I’ll finally get to the bottom of what’s really going on.
You’re alive, Lyra. I know you are.
2. Imani
My Shadow & I - Brooklynn
“Do you think this is too much for late morning coffee?” I ask. My hands cup my breasts and push them up as close to my chin as possible. No easy feat considering I’ve got D cups.
They’re heavy and tend to look like canons on my chest.
Emerald looks up from where she sits at my windowsill, sawing away at her long nails with a nail file. “That much cleavage for coffee? Mani, who do you think you’re fooling?”
“Do I have to remind you there’s no hiding these things?”
“Do I have to remind you it’s forty degrees out?” Emerald arches a sharp brow as she saws away at more of her nails. “Take it from me. You’re an amateur at this. You don’t want to go too hard too fast with your first client.”
“Oh… right.”
“Sweater and some leggings that make your ass look fat. Much more believable and casual.”
