Page 87 of Dominance

Blushing, I flap my breath out between my lips. “Well…I’ve had guys go down on me before…”

“Yeah, so have I. It’s usually like a lot like they’re trying to play Whac-A-Mole with a Wiffle ball bat.”

“Oh my God!” I snort, flashing back to way too manylastdates. A couple of firsts too. “No…let’s just say that he’s a gifted linguist?”

“Oh! Fluent?”

“Bi-lingual.”

“You lucky bitch! He wouldn’t happen to have a brother would he…?”

“Two. Twins.”

Sandra’s eyes bug out of her head, then she cocks her head to the side, considering. “I could make that work…”

“Whoa! Someone help! My friend has lost her mind.”

“What? Nothing wrong with a little double-dip cone…”

“Double Diamante delight?”

“Wait, wait, wait …thosetwins?”

“Yeah, Adriano’s last name is?—”

“Holy shit. That didnotclick.” She looks a little shaken, shocked. Not scared, just no longer laughing.

“You know who they are, I take it?”

“Uh. Yeah. Everyone in my neighborhood does. Everyone in most neighborhoods do. The ones that pay tribute to them, anyway.”

My head spins, my mouth not able to form the dozen questions that pop into my head.

“Seems like someone else has been making the calls lately, though. Prices have gone way up. A lot of people don’t feel safe.”

“Sandra what are you saying?”

“It’s not a big deal. Just a reality of living in…claimed territory? I don’t know what the best way to say it is.”

“Right. Um. The thing is, Sandra, you know I mentioned that Adriano works for my dad. That we both do.”

“Sure. He’s like the COO, or whatever. Oh.” Her face drops. “Oh.”

“Right. That’s all part of the way we came to be engaged.”

“Wait…like an arranged marriage? What is this, the 1700s?”

“More like the 1800s. Italy. ‘This, the day of my daughter’s wedding’ to be more exact.”

Sandra tips her head back, laughing out loud. “Girl, and you’re worried I’d freak out? I figured you knew that you were like the rest of us.”

“I am pretty new around here too.”

“Every family on my block pays the family. We’re all owned by the Diamante family.”

“Oh. So … you were …”

It caves in. My little bubble, the semblance of something I thought was mine.

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