3 | Small Favor
FIORELLA
I ease the key into the lock, careful not to rattle it. My heels dangle from my pinky, my soles aching against the cool tile as I slip inside. The door clicks shut, and I slide the deadbolt home.
A thin strip of golden light glows beneath the living room door. Every lamp in the living room is on. Great.
I drop my heels and clutch onto the entryway table, rubbing at my sore feet before tiptoeing toward the light. The moment I push the door open, I’m blinking under a blast of brightness—every bulb blazing like an interrogation room.
Mia and Lila are huddled on the couch under a blanket, wide-eyed and very awake.
“You didn’t stay up for me, did you?” I ask, abandoning any pretense of quiet.
They both jump.
“There’s our rich girl,” Mia drawls. “Covering rent for a while, yes?”
I roll my eyes. “You wish. I’m still looking for a new place tomorrow—what are you even watching?”
On the screen, Winnie the Pooh and Piglet amble through the Hundred Acre Wood.
Mia fumbles for the remote and flicks it off. “We tried a scary movie,” she mutters. “Couldn’t finish it. Ended up here instead. But now we’ve got something better—spill it.”
I flop down next to them, throwing my legs across their laps. Lila instantly takes one of my feet and starts rubbing, like the saint that she is. I melt into the pillows. “Thanks, Lila.”
She squeezes my foot. “Don’t thank me—talk.”
I scoop up a handful of leftover popcorn—mostly kernels—and crunch the three good pieces I’ve snatched between my teeth.
“Fine. It was… okay, I guess. I was totally overdressed—all the other girls were in black and red strappy things. I stuck out like a sore thumb. But no one groped me, so that’s a win.”
“What kind of party was it?” Lila asks, still kneading my foot. I could kiss her if I weren’t so exhausted.
“I don’t know. Men only, sharp suits. Businessmen, I think. But it had this weird vibe—like they were all holding their breath. Whispering. Deals being made under the table.”
“Did they ask you to do anything?” Mia tilts her head. “Like, dance for them?”
“God, no.” I wrinkle my nose. “I just served drinks. Found this one girl and stuck near her—she was nice. The others, not so much.”
Mia pours wine into a glass and hands it over. “And you got paid?”
I nod toward my clutch. “Check’s in there. I’ll cash it tomorrow. It was more than they said.”
Mia sits up straight. “More than seven grand? How much?”
“Twelve.”
“Twelve grand?!” She’s practically vibrating. “They paid you twelve grand to pass out drinks in a short dress?”
“It was lingerie,” I protest. “I was basically selling my body.”
“Girl, no you weren’t. That’s a whole dress and no one touched you. You just scored the gig of a lifetime. God, if I looked like you—”
“What do you mean it’s not lingerie?” I cut in, exasperated. “It’s basically a lacy bra, and most of my ass is out. You called it sexy.”
“It is!” She lifts her hands in surrender. “I just mean—whatever. Good for you, Ella, I mean it.”
Lila peeks around her. “So they just… tipped you an extra five grand? What kind of business are they in?”
I shrug. “I heard bits about banks, and restaurants. Someone mentioned a casino, I think.”
Lila narrows her eyes. “And they tipped all of you?”
I huff. “They didn’t ‘tip’ me, Lila. They probably just upped the pay.”
Before she can argue, Mia leans in, blocking my view. “Were any of them hot? Or was it all old pervs? Anyone you could turn into a sugar daddy?”
My heart jolts. “Oh—right. Yes. One of them was gorgeous.”
Both girls pounce. “Tell us!”
I take a slow sip of wine. “I don’t know. Just… ridiculously handsome. Black suit. Tattoos everywhere. Dark hair. And he had these… eyes—I could barely look away.”
Mia clutches her chest dramatically. “Ugh, stop. I can practically see him. Tattoos, you said?”
“Everywhere,” I murmur, remembering the ink crawling up his neck and hands, offsetting the gold ring on his pinky. “But not trashy. More like… intimidating. He didn’t move much either, just watched.”
Lila wiggles her eyebrows. “Watched you?”
I snort. “I doubt it. He seemed like the guy everyone else was watching. The staff practically tripped over themselves when he stood up.”
“So he’s, like, the guy.” Mia stretches the word. “The one in charge. Rich, powerful, tattooed—Ella, you’ve just described my dream man.”
I toss a popcorn kernel at her. “He probably eats girls like us for breakfast.”
She bats it away with a grin, pointing to Lila, me and herself. “We can be breakfast, lunch and dinner.”
They giggle, trading ridiculous questions—what did his voice sound like, did he flirt, did I flirt back?—and I play along, half teasing, half distracted by the memory of him. The weight of his gaze. How the air seemed to tighten when he looked my way.
When their yawns finally start to win out, I kiss both of them on their foreheads and retreat to the bathroom. I wash away the night, scrub the taste of wine out of my mouth, and slip into my room.
I plug in my phone, crawl under the covers, and—without really thinking—open Camilla’s new contact.
Ella: Hey, weird question. How much did you end up getting paid for tonight?
A few minutes pass. I’m halfway to sleep when my screen lights up.
Camilla: Seven grand, same as all of you. Crazy money, right? Why?
I stare at the message, blinking against the glow of my screen.
Ella: Oh, no reason. Just checking. Night xx
I set the phone down, roll onto my back. The room feels too quiet suddenly.
Five grand—too much to be a mistake.
Too big of a tip for someone who didn’t do anything the others didn’t.
I roll to my side, tugging the covers over my shoulder and snuggling up. Sleep comes in flickers, and somewhere between them, he’s there again—that man with the lethal eyes, looking at me from across the room.
----
“Alright, honey. Here you go.”
I set a plate of spaghetti and meatballs in front of the little blonde angel in the corner booth and hand her mom a stack of napkins with a wink.
“Thank you,” the woman mouths, already reaching to wipe sauce off her daughter’s chin.
“I’ll grab the colored pencils,” I say.
“Just for me!” the girl chirps, marinara spread to her ears. “Arlo’s too little to color.”
I glance at the newborn in her dad’s arms and ruffle her curls. “I figured.”
I’m still smiling as I walk toward the kitchen, but before I can reach the swinging doors, a hand clamps on my arm.
I jump, then let out a shaky breath when I see it’s just my brother.
“Christ, Luca—hello to you too.”
He gives me a half-apologetic grin. “Hey, Ellabella. I need a small favor.”
I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. “How small are we talking?”
“How much do you have?”
“Luca—” I rub my temples, sensing the tension coiling in him. “Are you in trouble?”
“Nah.” He tries to sound casual, but I catch the flicker in his eyes, and how they dart around the room, too alert.
I study the tight set of his jaw, the way his shoulders stiffen. “Tell me what you need it for.”
He tips his chin down, meeting my gaze from under heavy brows. “You know what… never mind. I’ll figure it out.” He pivots, stepping toward the back exit.
“Fine,” I blurt. “I got paid last night. I’ll cash the check after work—come by my place tonight. But we’re talking about it.”
He glances over his shoulder, the faintest hesitation in his stride. “Nah, forget it. I’ve got a gig anyway. I’ve got it.”
Something sharp twists in my chest. “Luca, it’s no trouble—I didn’t mean to push you. Just… come see me tonight.”
He pauses in the doorway. “That’s okay, Ella. I need to stop relying on my sister anyway—I’m an adult.”
With a casual salute, he slips through the door, leaving me alone with a sinking feeling in my stomach.
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Ooofff... what do you think is going on here? ?? How did you like it in there? ??