“No?”
“That’s not what those boys need.” She starts pulling dresses and draping them over her arm, then pauses, examining one. “You need to say strong, powerful, wealthy, but also feminine. Own your womanhood. Wield it like a weapon.” She holds the dress up to me. It’s pale pink and sleeveless with a high collar. It’s long enough that it will come down past my knee, but the slit in the side will show off my legs. “Teach those boys a lesson.”
“That’s—” I start to object.
“Perfect,” Agnes says.
“With your nude Jimmy Choo sandals,” my mom adds, suddenly on board.
“The ones with the jewels? Yes, honey,” Agnes coos.
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose. “I’ll look naked.”
Agnes smiles at me. “That’s the whole point.”
After I pay for the dress, I take my mom down the street to a smoothie truck and buy us a liquid dinner. I don’t think my nervous stomach can handle much more than that. We sit at a patio table, and I tuck my purple Plum Crazy bag between my ankles while I slurp at the citrus concoction. The late-afternoon spring breeze is cool on my skin and smells sweet, like the honeysuckle vine that crawled up our porch when we lived in our small house in West Valley. That was a long time ago, but it’s funny how scents so easily bring those memories back. I still own the house, but I go there so infrequently that I don’t even know if the vine is still there.
“Tell me what all this is really about,” my mom says.
My mom had a heart attack a few years ago—it’s what drove her to retire. She’s under strict orders from the doctor not to suffer undue stress, which is why I keep most of the business dealings to myself now. She gets her stipend, and I get peace of mind knowing that she’ll still be around for years to come. But I’m nervous about tonight, and I wouldn’t mind talking about it with her.
With a sigh, I say, “City Center.”
Her brow furrows. “The skyscraper they’re building downtown?”
I nod. “I want to open a Seeds on the first floor.” Seeds is Rutherford’s upscale grocery offering mostly fresh and locally sourced foods, perfect for the kind of people who will be able to afford the condos on the top floors of the new building. Not to mention, a location in downtown Oakwood City will make business thrive. We could offer a deli lunch, maybe a cafe. It could really be the start of something that can spread nationwide. The possibilities are endless—or they could be. “But I can’t get through the red tape. The building is owned by Turgenev Holdings and being built by Novak Building Group.”
My mom nods her understanding. “And both of those companies are owned by Oakwood Boys.”
“They’re blocking me, Mom, and I don’t get it.”
“It’s because you’re two of the worst things you can be—a woman, and new money.”
I scoff. “It’s not about any of that. It’s just business.”
“It’s never just business. To them, an exchange of wealth is an exchange of power, and they don’t want to give you any of theirs.”
My driver pulls up just as we finish off our smoothies, and we climb in. On our way to drop her at her apartment, Mom gives me the rundown on what she knows about the powerful Oakwood families—the Novaks, the Turgenevs, the Hawthornes, the Kingsburys, the Klines. The list goes on and on and the names begin to swirl in my head.
When we get to her place in South Square, she hesitates before getting out, looking back at me. “Be careful, will you? I’m worried for you.”
I try to smile reassuringly at her. I’ve always been able to handle myself. “Why is that?”
“Because Hell is empty, my darling,” she says, patting my hand. “And all the devils are at the Oakwood Club.”
Chapter Two
Losev
“Whose bright idea was it to let the Jordan family host a masquerade ball here?” Andrej Novak grumbles from his high-back chair as he plucks a Gurkha cigar from the case an attendant offers to him. I wait for him to light it. The sweet smell of the smoke drifts over to me, and I consider grabbing one for myself but eventually decide against it, not in the mood for a cigar tonight.
“Money talks,” I say by way of answering his question. The Oakwood Club is one of my family’s business holdings, so he and the other Oakwood Boys are always looking to me for answers when things aren’t to their liking.
“You’ll be lucky if it doesn’t turn into a bloodbath.” His dark eyes scan the room. The lounge is dark and smoky, the walls lined with law books and registers. There are a couple other men, but none worth mentioning. “Where is Theo, anyway?”
I shrug and lean back in my chair across from him, taking a sip of my drink, savoring the lush, velvety port. “Probably wreaking havoc downstairs. Rosie broke his heart, so I’m sure he’s looking for a rebound.”
Andrej smiles around his cigar. “I wonder who the unlucky lady will be.”
I couldn’t care less about Theo’s love life, so I change the subject to more pressing matters. Turgenev Holdings recently made a huge investment in the skyscraper going up downtown, and it’s been a while since I’ve had an update. “How are things at the building site?”
“Good.” Andrej leans back and crosses one ankle over his knee.
There’s something about his look I don’t like. “You haven’t hired Dom Royal’s crew, have you? We agreed everything would be on the up and up.” There’s a seedy underground in Oakwood City, and Dom Royal is its ruler. He and I butt heads frequently, but he’s been quiet lately.
Thankfully, Andrej shakes his head. “I’ve brought on Moreau Construction. You know them?”
“Rand.” I nod. “Sure. He’s done work here.”
“He’s quick. He’s fair.”
“He’s clean,” I remind Andrej.
Andrej shrugs. “For now.”
I roll my eyes. Andrej is my friend, but he’s a real dick. It’s no secret that the Oakwood Boys have ties to local crime syndicates, but most of us typically prefer to keep our hands clean, even if our money isn’t. Andrej has no such qualms. He’s always testing the limits. I suspect Moreau can fend for himself, though. I’m about to say as much when the sound of high heels clicking against the stone floors in the hall silences me.
Andrej and I turn to look at the door along with the other men in the room. A second later, it opens, and the attendant approaches me.
“Sir, there’s a…guest…here to see you,” he says hesitantly.
“A female guest?” I ask, putting down my drink. The lounge is for members only, but occasionally an Oakwood groupie will make her way up to offer her services for the night. I normally turn them down before passing them off to Andrej or Theo, though I’ll occasionally play with them first. I enjoy the build-up, the teasing, but it’s short-lived. They’re always just so easy.
The attendant nods.
Andrej blows a puff of smoke in my direction. “When’s the last time you got laid?”
“Keeping track now, are you?” I ask. Then, to the attendant, I say, “Do you know her?”