Filed to story: Falling for My Ex's Mafia Dad Novel Free PDF (Fay Alden & Kent Lippert)
I turn to look him, my eyes as wide as saucers. “Did your dad just smack my ass?”
A few hours later, Fiona is putting the finishing touches on my hair. I groan a little as she pins the last piece into place, finishing it off with some hairspray. My entire scalp hurts, each strand of hair having been combed and tugged and curled and pinned and sprayed.
The hairdo is a triumph, of course. It’s so elaborately curled and swept up delicately off my shoulders that I look like I could be getting married.
“You’re gorg,” she says, leaning down so that I can see both of our faces in the mirror. She laughs, then, giving me a kiss on the cheek and then whipping her lipstick off my skin with her thumb. “Absolutely gorgeous!”
I stand up and let Fiona help me into the little black cocktail dress she’s chosen for the occasion, the fabric shimmering subtly in the low light of my room. It skims off my shoulders and cuts high on my thighs definitely racier than anything she’s put me in before.
“Are you sure this isn’t a little…risqué?” I ask, considering myself in the mirror. “For like, a meeting the family sort of thing?”
“When it was your dad, it was one thing to look like a pretty pretty princess,” Fiona says confidently, zipping me up. “But trust me, I know women like those you’re meeting tonight. If you come in looking like a little girl, they’ll eat you alive.”
We both look at me in the mirror and I’m surprised by what I see. If last time I was the Mafia princess, tonight I am dressed as the Femme Fatale. The woman who can wreck it all if she wants, and walk away laughing.
“You look as if you could breathe fire,” Fiona says approvingly, passion in her words.
“Do you really think so?” I ask, turning to look at her.
“Baby Fay,” she says, shaking her head at me with a little pity in her eyes. “Our innocent little baby. You really have no idea what you’ve got going on, do you?”
I frown at her, not understanding.
“You could have them all in the palm of your hand,” she whispers to me, holding out her own in front of my face to demonstrate. “With just one look. You could bring them all to their knees.”
I snap my head back to the mirror, wondering if it’s true. Thinking, suddenly perversely, I know of Kent on his knees before me. And what I’d make him do if I had him there.
Fiona gives me a tart little smack on the butt then, breaking my reverie and laughing as she hurries over to the jewelry box waiting on my vanity. I give her a weird look and cover my ass with my hands. “What is with people today,” I murmur.
She laughs again as she comes over to me, standing behind me so that she can hook the diamond solitaire around my neck on its slim silver chain.
“You got the ring?” she asks, smacking her gum.
“Oh, yeah,” I murmur, walking swiftly over to my bedside drawer and pulling it open. I reach towards the back, fishing it out and pushing it swiftly onto my left hand.
When I look at Fiona, she’s crossing her arms and shaking her head at me.
“A million-dollar diamond,” she says, “and you shove it in your bedside drawer?”
“Um,” I say, biting my lip in response. I hadn’t even thought about it. I look around, wondering where else I should have put it
“Nevermind,” she says, laughing at me more.
“Fiona,” I say, taking in her vintage Juicy velour sweatsuit. “Won’t you please come? I’ll feel so much better with you there.”
“Ah, baby Fay,” she says, coming to take my arm and give me a smile. “You’ll be fine. I’ve got a headache, is all I’ll be more comfortable here.”
I frown at her, knowing that something’s up. But, she knows more about this world than I do. If she doesn’t want to go, I’m not going to push her.
“Okay,” I say, sighing as I headed for the door.
“Wait wait!” she calls, unzipping a garment bag and revealing a gorgeous mink stole.
“Oh my god,” I say, walking back towards it. “It’s beautiful ”
“Yeah,” she says, admiring it. “Vintage. You lucky girl.”
Smiling she goes to wrap it around my shoulders.
“Wait,” I say, not wanting to touch it. “Is it…like real? Were those alive?”
“What are you,” she scolds, “some kind of tree hugger?”
“It’s wrong,” I protest, staring at it. “I feel so bad, thinking about those little animals ”
“Baby,” she says, taking my face in her hands. “It’s vintage. These minks died over sixty years ago. No new minks died so you could look fabulous.”
I hesitate, my eyes taking it in. It is so beautiful.
“Come on,” she says, wrapping it around me before I can say anything, tucking my hands into the little pockets at the bottom which help me keep it around my shoulders. “It would be an insult to these little minks, to leave them in the closet for another sixty years. Take them out! Let the world admire them!”
Laughing, I head out of the room and down the stairs, brushing my face against the wrap, enjoying the feel of the soft fur against my cheek.
I stop though, halfway down, when I see Kent at the bottom standing with his arms crossed, his feet apart. Staring at me.
Shy, suddenly, I hunch my shoulders up towards my ears, clutching the mink close against my chest, pressing my thighs and knees together. I’m abruptly very aware of the shortness of my skirt. I don’t break eye contact though. Instead, I bite my bottom lip hoping ridiculously that I look okay.
I swear I hear him growl as his brow lowers, his eyes locked on mine.
“Fay!” Daniel calls, joining his father at the bottom of the stairs. “Wow, you look stunning.” He gives me a big smile and I start to move again, focusing on him as I come to his side.
“Thanks,” I say, giving him a little punch on his shoulder. “You look pretty cute yourself.”
He gives me a charming, bashful smile, and I’m reminded again just how good-looking my fiancé is. Both of our faces turn to Kent, though, as he snorts at us, shaking his head.
“Come on,” he says, nodding towards the door. “The cars are waiting.”
With that, we head out of the house. On our way to meet my entire family.
I whistle a little as we walk into the ballroom at the country club, impressed. This place has a grand, old-fashioned kind of charm, with freshly buffed fine oak floors, brass chandeliers, and sweeping views of the golf greens all along the southern wall.
As soon as we enter, a waiter comes up to offer us champagne. Kent doesn’t make eye contact with him, merely saying “whiskey, neat,” and surveying the guests. However, Daniel is more polite, nodding and smiling as he takes two glasses from the tray, passing one to me.
We only get a few steps into the room before we are bombarded with attention.
“Is this her?” A plump woman says, hurrying over and reaching out a hand to take mine. “Is this our darling lost Fay?”
“Um,” I say, smiling at her, pleased at the warm reception but already a little overwhelmed. “Hello ”
“Yes,” Kent says, stepping forward, not letting the woman pull me away. “This is Fay. We’re so pleased to be here, Rosemary.”