Page 23 of Mafia Handbook

Nodding her head, Milena recalled the appointment in question. A medical scare which had the two of them clinging to one another as Oakley made the call.

“The complaint was validated and not only was the photographer fired, he’s been unable to sell his photographs since.”

Dropping her gaze to the golden liquid inside the cup, Milena thought back to the way Skyla scooped in, taking Oakley to some island for several weeks while the dust settled.

“Too bad they wouldn't let me smash the bastard’s camera.”

Snapping his eyes to the raven-haired woman standing with a cellphone in hand at the end of his hall, not an ounce of hangover marring her perfect completion.

“Sissy, did you happen to bring a phone charger to this…” Oakley trailed off, waving her dead phone around the room. “Where are we exactly?”

Jumping from her chair, Milena cleared the short distance, taking the cellphone from her sister. “Remember when I told you about the man willing to help me with the hacker?”

Milena watched as Oakley’s gaze left hers and found Bash’s behind her.

“Well, hello, Mr. Tall, dark, and just my size.”

Bash threw up a silent prayer as the tone for someone breaching his outer perimeter sounded, giving him an excuse to avoid responding to such a cheesy line. “Excuse me, ladies. I have to check the door.”

Hating she had one more thing to apologize for, Milena gripped her sister’s hand, pulling her toward the bar and handing her the cup of coffee.

“It’s non-dairy, right?”

“Yes,” Milena lied, having heard Oakley insistence milking cows was a form of animal cruelty. “Now, sit down so I can tell you what happened last night.”

Swearing under his breath, Bash tipped his head back and contemplated ten ways to get out of his house without Oakley or the crazy bitch walking up his driveway seeing him. While the handful which come to mind would work, they would leave Milena behind, something he wasn't willing to do.

Jerking the door open, Bash stepped to the side, keeping his face stoic as he waved his arms in the direction of the kitchen.

Stepping over the threshold, Gretchen puckered her lips, tipping her head back in anticipation of a good morning kiss. When her silent suggestion went unanswered, “You could at least give me a hand with this.” Lifting the white box filled with whatever donuts the guy behind the counter shoved in there.

Slamming the door shut, Bash clapped his hands together slowly as he mouthed the words, fuck you.

Milena gave Oakley the abridged version of what happened the night before, keeping a few details to herself so as not to worry her sister. When Oakley’s eyes shifted to something behind her, Milena’s breath caught in her throat as she turned around in time to see Bash’s girlfriend walking toward her, all perfect makeup and not a red hair out of place. As she contemplated how to begin her apology for ruining their night, a squeal sounded from her left, a split-second before Oakley bounded across the room.

“Gretchen Lewis, what in the world are you doing here?”

“Oh my god, Oakley. I haven’t seen you in ages. This is my boyfriend’s house.”

Moving to the edge of the kitchen island, Bash positioned himself as close to Milena as he could. After last night, he didn’t trust Gretchen any further than he could throw her.

“Boyfriend?”

Clearing his throat, Bash moved to squash the bullshit when Oakley continued.

“When did this happen?”

Milena searched her memory for the name Gretchen Lewis, but came up short. Clearly this Gretchen didn't hold a high rank on her sister’s hierarchy of important people.

“Sissy, you’ve never met Gretchen, have you?”

Having been in the situation more times than she could count, Milena smiled but remained silent, allowing her sister to get all of the words scrambling around in her brain, out.

“Gretchen knows how to throw one hell of a party.”

And there it is, Milena thought to herself. Gretchen Lewis was another party girl.

“Speaking of throwing a party,” Gretchen’s eyes grew wide as the idea began to formulate inside her head. “I’ve been promising this handsome man to do a little entertaining themed around my whiskey collection.” Clearing the short distance, Gretchen attempted to wrap a possessive arm around Bash’s middle, when he grabbed her wrist.

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