Chapter 11
DeeDee paced back and forth in her tiny living room, her black stiletto boots clicking sharply against the worn laminate flooring.
Her phone buzzed in her hand, but it wasn’t the call she’d been waiting for all day.
She scowled and tossed it onto the couch, crossing her arms as she glanced at the clock for the tenth time in the past hour.
Where the hell is he?
It was Friday night. Friday nights were their nights.
It didn’t matter if they went to the dingy bowling alley or the club down the street with the sticky floors—Enzo always took her out on Fridays to show her off.
He loved having her on his arm, especially when she wore the short, red skirt he liked so much and her thigh-high black boots.
He’d puff out his chest, grinning with pride, while every guy in the room tried not to stare.
DeeDee loved that feeling. She loved how Enzo made her feel like the most desirable woman in the room.
But tonight? Nothing. Not a call. Not a text. Not even a vague “Be ready at eight.” It was already past nine, and she was still sitting at home, her hair perfectly curled, her lipstick flawless, and no Enzo.
“Un-freaking-believable,” she muttered, snatching up her phone again. She scrolled through her contacts, chewing her glossy red lip as she debated who to call. Enzo wasn’t exactly the most reliable guy, but he’d never skipped a Friday night. Ever.
She started with Marco, one of Enzo’s goons, but he didn’t answer. Neither did Sal. Her frustration boiled over, and she slammed the phone down again.
“This isn’t like him,” she muttered to herself. Then, her eyes narrowed. “Unless…”
Her mind raced with possibilities, none of them good. She grabbed the phone again and started dialing, this time skipping the guys and going straight for Gina, who always had her ear to the ground.
“Gina,” DeeDee said as soon as the other woman picked up. “Have you seen Enzo?”
“Uh…” Gina hesitated, and DeeDee’s stomach dropped.
“What? What is it?” DeeDee demanded, her voice sharp.
“Well… I heard he was at some fancy party earlier tonight,” Gina said cautiously. “With… uh, someone.”
DeeDee’s heart skipped a beat. “With who?”
“Some woman,” Gina said, her voice dropping like she was trying to avoid being overheard. “I didn’t see her, cause the party was some big-wig thing, but people are saying she was in a pink dress.”
DeeDee froze, the phone clutched tightly in her hand. A pink dress? Her mind raced as jealousy flared hot and fast. “You’re telling me Enzo took some other woman to a party and didn’t even call me?”
“That’s what I heard,” Gina said hesitantly. “Look, maybe it’s nothing—”
“Nothing?” DeeDee snapped, cutting her off. “It’s not nothing! He’s mine, Gina. Mine!” Her free hand balled into a fist, red nails digging into her palm. “Where is he now?”
“I don’t know,” Gina said quickly. “But you didn’t hear it from me, okay?”
DeeDee ended the call without responding, her blood boiling. A bimbo in a pink dress? Really? Who did this woman think she was, trying to steal her Enzo? DeeDee grabbed her leather jacket and stormed out the door.
If Enzo thought he could humiliate her like this, he had another think coming. And as for the woman in the pink dress? DeeDee was going to find her, and when she did, she’d make sure she understood exactly who she was messing with.
DeeDee slammed the door behind her, her jaw set and her eyes blazing. The night wasn’t over yet.