PRINCESS
LIBBY
“What?” I sit up in bed with my cell to my ear, blinking against the bright light of my lamp when I flip it on.
“I got married!” Fawn repeats, sounding excited.
“I thought you were in Vegas,” I say, trying to wake up enough to understand exactly what she’s trying to tell me.
“We are in Vegas.” She laughs. “We also got married.”
“Oh my god,” I whisper.
“I know,” she whispers back.
I can actually hear the happiness in her voice.
“I wish you and Mac could have been here.”
“Me, too,” I agree, still in shock. “Please tell me you have pictures.”
“Tons of them. We even got a few of them with Elvis.”
“Did Elvis marry you?” I ask while I wonder how she might have been able to talk badass Levi into that.
“No. Levi wouldn’t go for it, so we had a regular wedding at a normal chapel. But I stopped an Elvis impersonator on the Strip and made him take a picture with us.”
She laughs, and a smile twitches my lips. I can just see her talking Levi into doing that.
“God, now you’re married and Mac’s pregnant,” I say without thinking. My eyes widen as I cover my mouth, hoping I can somehow shove the words back inside.
“What?” she yells at the top of her lungs.
I slap my palm against my forehead.
“I . . . Crap. I shouldn’t be the one to tell you this, because it’s Mac’s news. She found out yesterday that she and Wesley are pregnant.”
“Holy cow.”
She can say that again. When I got home to do her hair and makeup for the New Year’s Eve ball she and Wesley were attending, I found her locked in the bathroom with five positive pregnancy tests on the counter. She was sitting on the floor in shock.
“Mom’s going to be over the moon. A son-in-law and a grandbaby—all in a year,” I mutter, picking at a thread on my comforter. Secretly, I’m a little depressed that my sisters are moving on with their lives while I’m stuck doing nothing with mine.
“Holy cow,” she repeats.
I sigh. I really should have kept my mouth shut.
“Is Mac okay?”
I close my eyes, remembering Mac resting her hand against her stomach and already looking in love.
“Yeah. She’s freaked, but happy about the news. She’s worried about telling Wesley,” I admit softly.
“Why is she worried? He’ll be happy about the baby.”
“I know, but it’s still early in their relationship.”
“True. But then again, everything happens when it should,” she says quietly.
I inhale sharply. “You’re right,” I agree.
“I should let you get back to sleep. I’m sure you need to get up early for work.”
“Yeah. I love you. Give Levi a hug from me, and tell him I said congrats.”
“I will. When we get home, we’re going to have a big party to celebrate.”
“Sounds good. Don’t have too much fun in Vegas,” I say.
Levi says something to her in the background that makes her start to giggle. I smile into the phone, then laugh as it goes dead in my hand.
I shut off my lamp and lie back down, holding my cell phone. I wonder when the heck my sisters and I grew up. It doesn’t seem like it was that long ago that we were all living in this apartment, a bunk bed and a twin bed shoved in this tiny bedroom, each of us fighting over the bathroom in the mornings to get ready for work or school. We never really stopped to think about what the future would hold. I bet neither Mac nor Fawn would have guessed that in a few short years they would be settling down and starting families of their own. I know I wouldn’t have guessed that I would be sitting here contemplating my life and what I should be doing with the rest of it. I used to think that because I loved all things beauty, I would be happy doing makeup and hair. Now I know I won’t be. I know that eventually I’m going to end up hating my job, no matter how much money I make. I don’t want that. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being miserable just so I can live comfortably.
Then again, everything happens when it should.
Fawn’s words echo in my mind.
“It’s a new year, Libby. Maybe it’s time to risk it all and go for broke,” I say into the dark.
My stomach twists with excitement and nerves.
Yes, I think as I close my eyes and a smile curves my lips. It’s time to take a chance on something new.
“Cara! What a nice surprise.” Martina gives me a warm smile after opening the door.
“I know I should have called before I showed up, but I need to talk to you and Tony. Is he around?”
“Is everything okay?” She studies me, the smile she was wearing moments ago sliding off her face. Concern fills her eyes.
“Yeah, everything’s great.” I smile, hoping to reassure her. “I just want to discuss something with you both if you have time.”
“Okay, come on in. Tony’s in the dining room.” She lets me into the house and closes the door before she leads me to Tony, who is sitting with a cup of tea in front of him—along with an open newspaper.
“Hey, Tony,” I say when he notices me. He smiles, then gets up to kiss my cheek and give me a hug.
“What brings you here?” he asks while I take a seat across from him and Martina.
Feeling suddenly nervous, I blurt out my reason. “I want to buy Tony’s.”
Tony looks at me, stunned, while Martina’s mouth drops open.
Last night, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I want, what will make me happy. When I got up this morning, I called the Realtor who has the listing for Tony’s and found out how much they were selling the business for. Then I made a few more calls and found out that I have just enough money saved for a down payment on the business and the rent for the space—but I would still need a backer. My dad has always been my biggest champion, so I called him with my idea and asked if he could help me out. He told me that he would help out in whatever way I needed. After I got off the phone with him, I got in a cab and came straight over.
“You what?” Tony asks, trying to make sure he heard me correctly.
I look around their cozy yellow dining room, getting my thoughts in order before I blurt out anything more.
“I want to purchase Tony’s from you and Martina.”
“Cara, you work as a stylist,” Martina points out, looking worried about me.
“I do, but I don’t really like it. I love working at Tony’s. I’m happy there. I feel good about myself every time I step through the door. I feel proud and excited. I know it might seem strange because of the career I have built for myself as a makeup artist, but I love your shop. I love making pies. I want to keep working there. I want to keep feeling good and happy, and I’m happy there.” I know I’m rambling and that I don’t sound very sophisticated, as I probably should sound at a time like this.
“Owning a business is a lot of responsibility,” Tony points out gently.
“I know it is. As Martina can tell you, I already have a business of my own. I started it from just an idea. I know this is not going to be easy, and I would not even be thinking about taking the risk if I didn’t know I could handle it.” When I finish, Tony’s eyes go to Martina before coming back to me.
“Are you sure about this, cara?” Martina asks.
“Yes, I’m sure. I have never been more sure about anything in my life.”
Even when I decided to move to the city to go to cosmetology school, I had doubts about what I was doing. But I have no doubts about this.
“Okay,” Tony states. “We will all have to talk to our Realtor, and you will have to speak with the landlord of the building and figure out all the financing stuff. If you really want it, it’s yours.”
“Really?” I ask in disbelief.
“Really,” he agrees.
Tears start to fill my eyes.
“I should tell Antonio,” Martina says, studying me.
Unexpected panic fills my chest.
“No!” I shout, causing her to jump in her chair. “I mean”—I lower my voice—“not yet. Not until after everything is settled. Please. I don’t want to jinx it.”
The truth is that I don’t want Antonio to try and talk me out of buying the shop because of his own personal feeling about the business.
“He knows we’re selling, cara. It might make him happy to know that you’re going to be the one purchasing it,” Martina says.
I inhale.
“Please, not yet. Can we wait until everything is done?” I ask.
She looks at her husband, who is studying me with a strange look in his eyes.
“When the time’s right, you can tell him,” Tony says, putting emphasis on the word you.
That panic in my chest comes back, in full force.
“Okay, I’ll tell him,” I agree, maybe not lying.
I tell myself that I can just send him an email or a text to let him know, once everything is done.
“I like the idea of Tony’s staying in the family,” Martina says.
I smile at her warmly, liking the idea of her thinking of me as family. My eyes widen as she continues.
“Who knows? Maybe one day you will even have the last name Moretti.”
“Martina . . . ,” Tony sighs, “leave the poor girl alone.”
“They say the person you ring in the New Year with will be the one you spend your year with.”
I think back to Antonio telling me that we needed to talk, then kissing the side of my mouth.
“You’re freaking her out.” Tony rolls his eyes at his wife, and I shift uncomfortably.
Martina isn’t freaking me out—I’m used to her seeing something that isn’t there between Antonio and me. I do wonder exactly what it is that he wants from me, though, and what he thinks it is that we need to talk about.
Now that is totally freaking me out.
“I’m not freaking her out,” Martina denies.
“Is she freaking you out?” Tony asks.
I shake my head. His eyes move to my hair, and I realize a little too late that I’m twisting a strand of hair around my finger.
Crap.
I’ve always done that when I’m lying. When I was younger, I thought my parents had magical powers because they always knew when I fibbed. I had no idea it was really because I would twirl my hair whenever I wasn’t telling the truth.
“She’ll be fine.” Martina grins at me. “Anyway, do you have time to stay for breakfast? I was just going to make us some egg whites and toast.”
I must make a face, because Tony starts to laugh. “Believe me—they are that bad.”
“I’m sure they aren’t. I bet Martina makes some awesome egg whites, but I need to get to the salon. I work today.”
“I wish I had an excuse. I miss real eggs and coffee,” Tony says.
Martina glares at him.
“What? I didn’t say I was going to go out and eat them. But I do miss them.”
“Too bad,” she grumbles.
Giving her a hug, I say, “Again, I’m really sorry for just showing up without calling. I was so excited to ask you this when I woke up this morning.”
“You’re always welcome in our home, cara.”
“Thanks.” I let her go, then give Tony a quick hug before heading for the front door.
Once I’m outside, I catch a cab across town to work—with a big smile on my face.
Time’s up.
Staring down at the text message I just got from Antonio, I feel my pulse start to race.
What the hell does that mean?
I know I’m going to have to talk to him eventually, but I don’t think I’m ready. Not yet.
What was I thinking?
His words from that night we almost had sex still hurt me every time they float through my mind.
“God. What the hell was I thinking?” I whisper to myself.
“What were you thinking about what?” Palo asks, making me jump.
I spin around in the makeup chair to face him.
“Nothing.” I drop my cell phone into my purse.
“Love, you are the worst liar in the world.” He slaps my hand, which I realize is toying with a piece of my hair.
Dammit.
“So tell me. What’s going on?”
“I . . .”
I start to tell him that it’s nothing. Then I realize that maybe, as a man, he can give me some insight into what’s going on in Antonio’s head.
“Well . . . do you remember Antonio?”
He nods, crossing his arms over his chest.
“You know I’ve had a crush on him forever.”
Nodding again, Palo’s eyes narrow slightly. He doesn’t like Antonio because I’ve shared stories with him about how Antonio has acted toward me in the past. Since Palo is my friend—and a good one—he thought it was ridiculous that I still had a crush on him. He’s made that perfectly clear by trying to set me up with every available man in the city.
“Well . . . we kinda kissed.”
“You kind of kissed?” His eyes narrow farther.
“Well . . . we did more than kind of kiss,” I admit reluctantly.
He suddenly pulls me from the chair by my hand.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going to talk—in the office.”
He drags me through the salon to the office, where he shuts the door behind us. Leading me to one of the chairs, he forces me to sit and then takes a seat across from me. He leans in with his elbows on his knees. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“We kissed.”
“You said that.” He waves his hand around, indicating that he wants me to get to the point.
I bite my lip. “Fine . . . we kissed. I don’t even know who started it. One minute we were arguing; then the next we were making out hot and heavy. He was picking me up and carrying me to the office in the pizza parlor. He laid me on the couch and took off my top,” I say quickly. His eyes widen. “Umm”—I inhale, then look away from him before whispering—“I told him I was a virgin and he stopped. He shut down completely and said, ‘What was I thinking?’ I was so embarrassed by how he responded that I kind of lost my mind and freaked out.”
“Jesus,” he mutters.
I lift my head.
“When was this?”
“A few days before New Year’s.”
“Have you spoken to him since then?”
“Yes.” I nod, feeling my cheeks get warm as I think about him saying he was going to kiss me again in the office and then him kissing me on New Year’s Eve in front of everyone. Not that anyone noticed. “But I haven’t talked to him about what happened. I told him I needed time. Today he sent me a text that just said, ‘Time’s up.’”
“Time’s up?” he repeats.
I nod and shake my head. “I don’t know what that means—exactly.”
“My guess is your time’s up.”
I blink at him. “Okay, so what does that mean?”
“Hopefully it means he’s got his head on straight. If it doesn’t, it means that I’m going to pay him a visit.”
“Palo . . . ,” I sigh.
He shakes his head and reaches out to take my hands between both of his.
“I love you. I’ve listened to you talk about this guy since the day you started working for me. I know that you’ve had a crush on him, and I know he’s been a dick to you—which is stupid since you are one of the sweetest women I know.”
“Palo,” I whisper, feeling my chest get warm at his words.
“I swear if I didn’t like men I would make you mine. My mom would be thrilled beyond belief if I brought a girl like you home, but that’s never going to happen. Still, this guy is an idiot for not taking anything you are willing to give him,” he says.
My chest gets warmer.
“He’s had his heart broken,” I tell him, not even sure why that matters exactly. It’s the only defense I have.
“Did you break his heart?”
“Well . . . no.”
“Then he’s just an idiot. You’re not the one who hurt him. You’re Libby! Sweet, beautiful Libby. He’s a dick for treating you like crap.”
“I love you,” I blurt. His hands tighten around mine.
“Ditto, love, which is why I’m worried about you.”
“I’ll be okay,” I assure him, not sure if I’m lying or not.
“I know, in the end, you will be. But I’m worried about the time between then and now. You like this guy. You have for a long time.”
“I know . . . I also know I probably shouldn’t like him,” I admit.
“No, you shouldn’t,” he agrees.
This makes my stomach drop. He tugs my hands, forcing me closer.
“As much as it kills me to say it, you need to explore this. I’m worried about what will happen, but I know that if you don’t explore this thing between you two, you will regret it and you won’t be able to move on. So if he comes to you, listen to what he has to say, and then decide from there what to do.”
Biting my lip, I think about what he’s just said. I know he’s right. I won’t be able to move on until I figure out what’s going on between Antonio and me. I’m also scared to hear what he has to say.
“I’ll hear him out.”
“Good.” He gives my hands a squeeze. “Now I need to get back to work before Josie’s hair falls out. I left her in foils in my chair.”
I gasp. He never leaves a client.
“She’ll be okay.” He waves off my worried look and stands. “Are you done for the day?”
“I’m done here. I still need to run a few dresses back to clients,” I say as I stand.
He nods in understanding.
“Get home safe. If you talk to Antonio tonight, I expect you to tell me everything he says when I see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll call,” I say as he leans down to kiss my cheek before he leaves the office.
After leaving the salon, I head to one of my clients who lives just down the block. I drop off two dresses that she had rented out for New Year’s. Then I head to the East Side and drop off three more dresses to another client. By the time my cab pulls up outside my place, it’s already after eight in the evening. I’m not just tired—I’m exhausted. I haven’t been sleeping well these last few days. Not with everything that has happened.
I unlock the door and go inside the apartment, stopping dead when I see Mackenzie lying on the couch in a pair of sweats and a baggy T-shirt.
“Hey.” She lifts her head off the arm of the couch. I notice that her eyes are red and puffy. Then I see the mass of tissues that has collected on top of the coffee table.
“What’s going on?”
I shut the door.
She starts to sob, covering her face with her hands.
“Is the baby okay?” I ask as my stomach fills with worry.
“The baby is fine,” she whimpers, pulling her hands from her face.
“Is it Wesley?” I ask.
She covers her face once again and cries harder, making me worry about Wesley’s reaction to her being pregnant. I hope he didn’t say something about not wanting the baby. I resolve that if he did, I’ll get in a cab to go kick his ass.
Shrugging off my coat, I take a seat on the couch next to her and pull her into my arms.
“What happened?”
I rub her back and listen to her tell me about the fight she and Wesley got into this morning. A fight based on him saying that he wants to marry her but refusing to open up to her about his past. After she finishes telling me, I hold on to her as she cries. I try to comfort her. Eventually I help her up and get her into bed. Then I lie with her, listening to her tears as she continues to cry. In my gut, I know that she and Wesley will be okay—they love each other. Eventually they will find a way to work through this. Wesley will find a way to make this right. He looks at my sister like she’s the reason he’s breathing, so he will do whatever he needs to do. I just hate that they have to go through this right now—especially after just finding out they’re pregnant. Once Mac is finally asleep, I carefully get out of her bed and go to the bathroom. I change into pajamas, wash my face, and brush my hair. I leave the bedroom and shut the door, then get my cell phone so I can order some food. Seeing a text message from Antonio, I click on it as my pulse speeds up.
You haven’t texted me back. Is everything okay?
Sorry, everything is fine. I was just busy with work.
That’s okay. I’m on call this week at the station, but I was wondering if you will have dinner with me next Friday night? Seven?
I stare at the message, not sure how to reply. Part of me wants to jump at the chance to have dinner with him. The other part of me is freaked out at the prospect of having dinner with him. I don’t want him to do or say something that will hurt me again.
Risk it all . . . I remind myself quietly as I type my reply.
Sure, where do you want to meet?
I’ll pick you up at your place. We’ll go from there to the restaurant.
I’d rather meet you at the restaurant.
And I’d rather pick you up.
You’re annoying . . . Fine, I’ll see you at seven.
I press “Send,” then watch a little bubble appear, letting me know he’s writing me back again.
See you then, Princess. Sweet dreams.
Don’t call me Princess.
I type this quickly and press “Send” before calling in an order for shrimp fried rice. I have another message from him when I hang up my call. My heart thumps even harder as I read it.
You’re a girl who likes the color pink, heels, makeup, and designer clothes. A girl who wants to fall in love with your very own Prince Charming. You’re the definition of a princess.
Oh my god. He remembered what I said . . . almost word for word.
I have no comeback, so I type a vague response quickly.
Good night, Antonio. Be safe at work.
Thanks, baby.
Baby . . . ?
I stare at that one word while my stomach twists with anxiety. I know I can handle jerky Antonio—I’ve been dealing with him for years. I just don’t know if I have the strength to handle him being sweet, then letting me down by being a jerk once more. Biting my lip, I go to the fridge and pour myself a glass of wine. After I take a seat on the couch, I turn on the TV and flip through channels for something to watch while I wait for my food to arrive. I somehow end up being captivated by some stupid romantic comedy. As I watch, I root for the guy to figure out that he’s in love with the girl early on so she can get her happily ever after without the drama. Not surprisingly, it doesn’t happen. Still, in the end, it all works out.