Strapped: A Second Chance Mafia Romance

C
opyright
© 2016 by Emma Spring

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

1
8th September 2014

I
still can’t believe
it, even as I flick my eyes over my brand new, shiny apartment, drinking it all in. I still can’t believe that I – Olivia Markson, the shy, quiet girl who has spent the last few years immersed in the countryside – have moved back to New York City, with an amazing promise of a brand new life. It doesn’t quite seem real yet.

Of course it shouldn’t be so strange – after all, I grew up in this city – but ever since my father dragged me and my mom away all those years ago to live in one of the smallest places in America, it’s always been a bit like a fantasy, a memory that isn’t quite real.

It took many years of studying and hard work, on turning my back on what could have been a pretty fun life to get here, but it all seems worth it now. My sacrifices have finally come to something amazing – I have managed to save up enough money from my part-time job in a grocery store to get me started with this amazing new home, which has a gorgeous view of the city, and I have the job of my dreams waiting for me. I always wanted to achieve it, but I was never fully convinced that I could. Monday morning I will start my new job as Media Assistant at Elite Advertising – the hottest firm in the city.

Okay, so it’s a role with an ambiguous title – one that doesn’t
really
mean anything, which means that most of my days are going to be spent photocopying and other menial jobs, but it’s a start. I need a starting position to be able to work myself up, and where better than at one of the most famous companies around. Just the mention of it on my resume will set me up for life. I don't know quite how I got so lucky to land the position, but I’m so grateful to whatever divine intervention caused that to happen.

I wander from room to room a little aimlessly, wondering what I’m supposed to do with myself now. I’ve got all my meager belongings unpacked, and now I feel a little... lost. This isn’t supposed to be how my new adventure begins! I was all excited this morning, and I miss that feeling already.

On a whim, I decide to call my mom, just to give me someone to talk to. She and I have always been as close as a mother and daughter can be, but I’ve never quite felt like she understands me fully. She is strong, beautiful and very confident – whereas I am much more likely to blend into the background. We might look very similar, with our wispy white-blonde hair, and our sparkling blue eyes. We even have the same dimples when we smile and a figure that’s a little too slim – but she knows how to make all of that work for her, how to stand out in a room of a million people, whereas I do not.

Of course, that might not have been true once. There was a time in my life when everyone was interested in my life and what I was up to – but that contributed towards my fear of being in the public eye. It put me off for life.

“Hello?” She answers, in her fake posh tone. Sometimes it even teeters a little over into British, which always makes me laugh. “How are you, Olivia? Are you settled in okay?”

“Yes, thanks,” I sigh, staring out of the window, wishing that I wasn't just admiring the view, but that I could be a part of it. “All in, all okay.”

“You sound a little sad, dear?” She asks. There is a genuine concern in her voice, which I really appreciate. It shows just how much she cares about me, no matter how different we are. “Are you lonely? Why don't you call that girl that you used to be friends with? She still lives in New York, doesn’t she?”

A memory flashes up into my brain of the girl that I once spent all my time with – Marissa Skelton. She was quiet and reserved like me, and for that reason alone we connected. We could hide in the background, while all the popular girls took the limelight, and that was how we liked it.

“Is she?” I ask, feeling a bit of excitement grow. Maybe we’ll still get on as well, and she can be my friend here, giving me someone to rely on while I get myself on my feet. “You know what, mom, maybe you’re right. Maybe I will give her a call.”

My mom goes on to tell me about her day, droning over the boring details of small-town life which I’m certain must drive her mad. She’s too much of a big personality for that place, and if I struggled, I dread to think what it does to her. As she talks, I make agreeable noises every now and again, but I’m not really listening. Instead I have logged onto Facebook on my tablet, and I have found my old friend.

The first thing that I notice as I hit ‘Add Friend’ is how different she looks. Gone is the mousy brown hair and the thick rimmed glasses. In their place is an auburn haired beauty and what I’m certain are a pair of very fake breasts. It’s odd to connect the studious girl that I once knew with the duck-lipped woman in front of me, but I do my best not to judge. After all, I have probably changed a lot too, so who knows what will happen.

Almost a split second after I’ve added Marissa, she accepts and a message pings through.

‘Hi Olivia,

Long time no see! What are you up to these days?

Marissa xoxox’

As mom continues to chew my ear off, I type back a reply.

‘I know, it’s been far too long. I hope you’re well these days. Actually, I have just moved back to New York, so if you ever want to hang out that would be awesome. We are way overdue a catch up! X’

“Okay mom,” I decide to shut her down before I have to hear any more about her friends’ illnesses and ailments. “I have to get going, but I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”

“Alright sweetie, love you.”

“Love you, bye...” I’m grateful that I called her because she gave me such an amazing idea, but I need a break from her now... already!

‘How about tonight? We could go to Jesters – I remember how you always wanted to go there? Say 9:30 pm? Xoxox’

“Oh wow,” I mutter, smiling to myself. I cannot believe that Marissa would remember such a small detail about our friendship. Jesters was this amazingly cool, elusive bar that we always discussed going to. The fact that we are now old enough to actually fulfil that dream fills me with even more excitement. Now, not only am I going to get to have a night of fun, but I’ll also be reliving a piece of my youth too.

‘See you then x’

As soon as I send those words, I scurry around my apartment, trying to find the coolest looking outfit that I can find. Even speaking to Marissa about Jesters has me feeling back to being an insecure teenager who has no idea how to impress the cooler people. I have a whole range of pretty dresses that I normally wear out, but none of them seem right now. This isn’t a nice, classy bar where you go in your finest. It’s a biker bar, more likely to be frequented by leather-clad, tattooed men and women – and I’m not sure that I have anything to help me fit in there.

In the end, after trying absolutely everything on, I decide to grow the hell up, and to stop worrying about how the rest of the world will view me. I’ve spent too much of my life blending in, hiding away, being what I think everyone else wants me to be. This new start in New York is a chance to reinvent myself, to be confident in who I really am. It’s time to actually embrace myself to allow myself to be happy.

I pull on a pink, floaty top, loving the way that it makes my hair and pale skin look even more angelic. Then, just because I’m not
totally
confident at going full force me just yet, I tug on a pair of black skinny jeans – then at least some of me will fit in.

It’s only a small start, but it’s something, and I have to be proud of myself for that.

“Right,” I whisper to myself, staring at my reflection. “Let’s go... start your new life.”

My heart pounds painfully as I push through the doors into Jesters. The place that I remember being so cool and exciting is now too smoky to see properly, and seems more dangerous than anything else. I guess growing up has led me to be much more self-aware and conscious of my safety, and I don't feel right being here by myself at all.

“Liv!” A clearly intoxicated voice calls out. “Olivia, I’m over here.”

As a shadow staggers towards me, it takes me a minute to figure out who it is. Even though I’ve seen the pictures now, and I already know how much she’s changed, it’s still a massive shock all the same. It’s Marissa – but she’s wasted and in a tight leather dress that clings painfully to her curves. The cigarette tumbles from her hand, but she seems too drunk to even notice. She simply swigs from her glass instead, topping her alcohol levels up even further.

“Oh hi,” I say nervously, as she throws her arms around me. “How... how are you?”

“Isn’t this cool?” She squeals. “Me and you... in Jesters.”

“It isn’t cool for you,” a man behind her quips. “You’re in here every day.”

“Oh, shut up you,” she spins around with a sultry smile on her lips, before falling into his lap and kissing him like a horny teenager.

“I’ll... just go and get a drink,” I say to no one in particular, since no one is listening to me. As I stand at the bar by myself, I find myself in shock. I just cannot believe that the girl I grew up alongside has become this person – she’s totally the opposite of what she once was and I’m not sure how to take that. If I had told the Marissa that I knew that she would become
this
, she would have laughed her head off.

With my wine glass clasped tightly between my fingers, I stand awkwardly by the side of my friend while she gets pawed by a bunch of different men. This isn’t how I wanted my first night out to go at all – after I spoke to Marissa I was excited, and it was all for nothing...

“Ooh look,” she suddenly squeals loud enough to get my attention. “It’s like a school reunion in here tonight...”

My eyes flick to where her finger is pointing, and as soon as I see who she’s looking at, my blood runs cold and my heart leaps up into my throat.

It’s him.

Marco Fabbri.

My first love is standing in the same bar as I am, and for some reason my body is reacting wildly to him as if I’m still a teenager in love. He looks exactly the same as he did back then, but totally different too. That tanned skin and dark hair is still the same, as is his muscular frame and deep brown eyes – but he looks more haunted, and there is an undeniable scar running down his cheek making him appear to be dangerous too.

I gulp my emotions down, trying desperately to keep them inside, but as soon as he glances over everyone in the bar until his eyes meet mine, where they jolt with recognition, it all comes spilling over and I feel myself fall apart.

Me and Marco... in the same place once more.

There’s only one way that this can go, and as I learned the hard way last time, it can only end in heartbreak.