“All the better for eating up people with,” Jaspar says with a big giggle.
And after that, Jaspar lets the dentist get to work, and I can breathe a sigh of relief.
At the end, as we walk out to my car, I high five Jaspar. “That’s my boy,” I say, and an unusual feeling washes through me. It’s like a sense of pride over Jaspar because he overcame his fear. Giulietta is skipping along beside me, and without another word, she slips her small hand into mine.
And for some reason, something warm slides right through me and makes my ice-cold heart clench so hard...
CHAPTERTWENTY-SEVEN
EMERALD
I’ve gone back to doing some shifts at the casino while the kids are in school. Saint wasn’t happy about this, but we came to a compromise over it, and I know that Carmine can’t get to me here with the Imperiosi security crawling all over the place.
I push the loose strands of my hair back from my face as I continue to fill the cart to restock the main floor.
I hear the door swing open. “I can’t believe he’d pick her...”
“Right? You’d think after Ronnie, everyone would know what type of woman she is.”
I stop what I’m doing, my hand tightening around the box of cocktail stirrers. I peer through the gap in the stock shelf to the other side where two girls, Janice and Myra, have just come in and are filling their carts with chips and cigars. Either they don’t know I’m here, or they just don’t care.
“She’ll ditch this job once she has the wedding ring on her finger,” Janice says. “She’s only still here as a backup in case Saint dumps her. I mean, where else will she be able to meet another rich man?”
“Have you heard what everyone’s calling them?Saint and the Slut.” I close my eyes, wincing violently as I hear Myra’s cruel words, ice crawling through my veins as humiliation washes over me. “Anyway, she’s fat and ugly. Eventually he’ll come to his senses.” Snide giggling fills the room.
I wish I could just march up to people like this and confront them for being such mean girls, but what they’re saying slices so close to the bone that my mortification freezes me to the spot.
“You’re totally right,” Janice replies. “And then she’ll move onto the next poor rich sap when he dumps her. It’s a shame Saint’s wasting his time with her. I heard from Milly that he’s great in bed, and I’d love a chance to find out for myself.”
“You might not have long to wait. You know he doesn’t do the wholelonger-termthing,” Myra adds.
Slut. Worthless. Unlovable.The words run through my head, bombarding my mind. Each a different person’s voice from over the years. Again and again, those voices build to a roar until they’re all I hear. Until they drown out everything else in my mind.
The box I’m holding clatters onto the cart, and I freeze as the straws spill out over its surface.Oh God. I wait a breath, then another.
But they carry on talking, not realizing that I’m the other person in the storeroom. “A man like Saint won’t be satisfied with a worthless piece of trash like her,” Janice snickers.
Abandoning my cart, I start to inch toward the door, sliding silently along, careful not to make a single sound. If I can just get out of here without them seeing me…
Then, I can just pretend like this never happened. I’ve heard variations of this for far too long now. From Ronnie’s ma, Calcedonio, Ria, and so many others. And I want to cover my ears and block these women out. Because I just need to get away from their cruel words.
My hand touches the door.
I push it open, wincing at the piercing creak from the hinges.
And I freeze.
But they take no notice. “Maybe she’s good in bed after learning some tricks from her hooker mom,” Myra says. “I mean, she must be up for gang bangs and water sports and all the disgusting slutty stuff like that.”
I edge open the door a little more. Just enough for me to slip through and escape…
More cackles from Janice. “Of course, she is. Apple can’t fall far from the tree, right? Emerald Fiorelli is nothing but a piece of trash who belongs in the gutter.”
And right at that moment, I let the door slam back shut.
Because I have to change the narrative.
I can’t just let people keep on talking about me like this.