Chapter 7
Each day following her outing with Eric, a new bouquet of fresh stems was delivered to her house. Today’s delivery was a unique set of blossoms wrapped in black florist paper. It was a mixture of roses and lilies, but it was their coloring that made them so eye-catching.
The starburst-shaped lilies had deep violet hues on the edges of the petals that grew lighter in a gradient effect towards the pistil in the center. By contrast, the tightly wrapped rose petals were a lighter shade of purple on the outside that darkened with each layer until they were nearly black in the center.
A shining silver card was tucked inside with a handwritten note which simply read:
My little harpy.
With all these deliveries, it was making it difficult to take her mind off the choice she was going to have to make in a few weeks. Not to mention, her house was beginning to smell like a florist as she tried to find a spot for each new delivery.
Layne chose to put this newest set of flowers inside her home office, arranging them in a vase that was centered on one of the shelves of her bookcase.
As for the other man weighing heavily on her mind, if Joey had been snooping around and keeping tabs on her, she hadn’t caught him in the act…yet. After catching a glimpse of a sports bike outside of O’Reilly Manor the other day when she met with Liam, it left her questioning if she was just being paranoid, hopeful, or maybe both.
He was particularly adept at lingering without making himself known, she had learned that very early on after their first encounter. However, she still hadn’t been able to fully anticipate his next steps and that’s what drove her crazy the most. Joey was capable of living in her blind spot when he wanted, and she hated not being able to get ahead of his every move.
As far as she was aware, he was behaving himself and keeping his distance. He had left her a new number to reach him at so they could talk over some of the more mundane details of getting him into the Ellis residence on the night of the party.
Layne pulled out her phone and texted his contact number.
Layne
Did you get your tux?
Joey
Just got back from the fitting.
Layne
Are you still set on meeting me at the party instead of picking me up like a gentleman?
Joey
You know I don’t do the knight in shining armor act.
I will leave that to Prince Charming.
Even though she hadn’t heard his tone, it was clear he had some opinions on Eric’s affections towards her in referring to him as a prince out of a fairy tale.
Word was making its way through the grapevines around that Ellis and Layne had some personally driven interactions. Undoubtedly, Joey’s tap into the criminal underworld hadn’t spared him that knowledge. Unbeknownst to her, he may just have been seeing more than he was letting on.
Layne
Well, if you’re late, I’m going in without you.
Joey
Layney, you should know by now, I’m never late.
Layne
Yes, I know, you’re obsessed with punctuality.
Joey
( . . . )
Layne saw the text bubble that indicated Joey was typing a response, but one never came. She waited a few minutes before giving up and determining he thought better about what he wanted to say to her.
Frustrated, yet mildly curious, she contemplated calling him out on his unsent thoughts. However, knowing Joey, he would just ignore the inquisition. She sighed and decided she desperately needed a distraction from all of this before her thoughts drove her crazy.
Good thing she at least had plans to go dress shopping with Rebecca in an hour. Girl time always proved to be an escape from the wild chaos of her life.
After a long period of silence, there was finally a sign of life. “I look like a pumpkin that’s been rotting on the porch for two months too long!” Layne shouted out to Rebecca from behind the curtain of the dressing room of the boutique dress shop.
She yanked the curtain to the side and stepped out to confirm that the dress she tried on did indeed make her look like a deflated pumpkin—from the aggressive shades of orange to the poofs in all the wrong places of the sleeves and the awkwardly shaped bustle.
With a glass of champagne in one hand and her phone snapping photographic evidence in the other, Rebecca was crying in a fit of laughter.
Dryly and unamused, Layne spoke, “I’m glad you find this amusing.” Layne gave a huff and a sigh as she tugged at the itchy tulle of the gown. “I don’t even know why I even care, I don’t even want to go to this damn event.”
Her best friend sat there on the velvet bench across from the dressing room and put her phone down for a moment to wipe a few tears away from underneath her eyes attempting to coherently speak between her giggles.
“I-I… hope it’s a—” Rebecca chuckled again before sputtering out her thought, “it’s a H-Halloween party!” She deteriorated back into side-splitting laughter for a moment before making a more serious effort to compose herself.
Layne stood there not finding the humor in this hideous gown, her arms crossed in front of her. “Ha-ha.” She came over and took a seat next to the one person who had always been there to support her no matter the hopelessness of the situation.
She leaned over and rested her head on Rebecca’s shoulder. It gave her bestie pause and she sobered up from her amusement over the ridiculous gown.
Straightening up, she wrapped an arm around Layne’s shoulders and drew her into a reassuring hug. “There are plenty of other stores, Layne. You’ll find something. There’s plenty of time, the party isn’t until the end of the month.”
“It’s not the dress.” She frowned while debating how much she was going to be a disappointment to her lifelong friend.
“What is it, then?” The concern was evident in Rebecca’s voice as she tried to look at Layne’s face to assess just how big whatever was plaguing her was.
Layne raised her head and shook her head as she looked at her hands in her lap. “Same shit it always is. My life is a mess and I don’t even know what to do with it anymore.”
“Is Liam being an ass? More than normal anyway?” Rebecca moved her eyebrows questioningly.
Giving a partial crack of a smile at the lovely thought of if that had been the only thing weighing on her, how it would be so much more manageable. “Obviously that, but it’s not just that. Everything keeps stacking up and nothing seems like the right choice anymore. Meanwhile, for every one thing I patch up, three more things fall apart.”
Rebecca handed off the rest of her bubbly to Layne who didn’t refuse to consume the dry beverage.
“Well, if I know anything about you at all, it’s that you eventually figure out what it is that matters most to you. You’re one tough cookie, and you’ll figure out how to make it all work out the way it needs to in the end.” Rebecca offered her up a hopeful smile and her pale blue eyes still held concern for Layne’s demeanor. “You can’t expect to fix everything yourself. You’re one person, Layne. A hell of a badass bitch, but you still only have two hands to work with. It’s ok to accept help every now and then.”
Layne was incredibly grateful that Rebecca knew how to give some of the best advice without prying too much for the details. Communicating the unique complications of her not-so-legal life had never come easy to her, and there were days when it hurt too much to say all the words out loud.
Not to mention, the less Rebecca knew about the business side of things, the better. There was no need to expose her to things that could potentially drag her into the same danger Layne wrangled with on a day-to-day basis.
“I can’t tell you how much I appreciate you. You’ve always been the sister I never had.” Her arms wrapped around Rebecca giving a strong hug.
While her friend returned the gesture, she laughed in response. “Thank God for that, or else we both would be the queens of the insane asylum. I’m not sure the world would have been able to handle it if we had been born sisters.” Her words teased in an effort to lighten the mood.
Layne chuckled imagining just how fucked they both would be had they grown up together in the same household. At least one of them deserved a chance at a typical life.
Drawing back, Rebecca patted Layne’s hand. “Now please, for the love of God, get out of this dress so I don’t go blind.”
In full agreement, Layne didn’t need to be told twice. She returned to the dressing room and discarded the eyesore of a gown.
Finally, after a few more dresses were tried on and immediately pitched, Layne found the one worthy of wearing in public.
Rebecca whistled in a catcall as she stared in awe at the chosen grown. “If you don’t buy this one, I will never speak to you again. The way it fits you would even have the Pope worshipping the ground you walk on.”
Layne stared at her reflection in the mirror, turning to capture each angle of the way the material fit her figure. It had been a while since she had felt this stunning and undeniably beautiful. She smiled confidently to herself imagining the look on his face when he saw her the night of the swanky soiree.
After squaring away all the details for the dress to be tailored to fit her height and size, Layne and Rebecca got to enjoy some lunch out on the sidewalk in front of a small Italian spot. Despite the cooler air of the fall outside, the restaurant had set up heaters to allow diners to enjoy the fresh air a little longer.
Layne stabbed her fork into the oversized meatball, cutting away a bite-sized portion and dunking it in the extra sauce and the mound of burrata. “This place has the best damn meatballs.” She shoved the fork into her mouth and gave a satisfied moan.
Rebecca grinned as she also helped herself to the meatball appetizer they were both sharing. “You know,” her friend looked at her from across the table, “I’m proud of you.”
Layne lifted a brow. “For what?”
Her bestie gave a warm smile. “Not that I need a reason, but the way you?—”
Whatever it was that Rebecca was going to say was cut off by the sound of a man yelling from a passing car. “Your time is almost up, you Irish cunt!” Followed by shots ringing out, shattering the front glass window of the restaurant.
Before her brain had time to process the words, Layne heard the firing of bullets. Dropping everything in her hands, Layne reached over and grabbed Rebecca’s arm pulling her down onto the ground. Protectively, Layne lay on top of her, flinching at the sound of each pop.
When the only sounds left were people screaming in a panic, Layne pushed up onto her feet to try and get a look at the vehicle as it took off down the street. The only thing she could make out was the white, blue, and red stripes of the Russian flag on a sticker in the back window.
Now that the threat had passed, she leaned down and helped a shaken-up Rebecca to her feet. “Are you okay?” Her friend gave a slow nod.
Layne stood there breathing heavily as the harsh reminder of the O’Reilly family’s standing in this city was plummeting. Today was just a warning, if they had meant to take her out, they could have. But, if she didn’t do something soon, Liam and she were going to be at the top of every criminal organization’s hit list.