“That makes total sense. But don’t forget, she’ll still need things like sheets and towels, kitchen stuff, to get started.”
“Right. I can do that.”
“We’ll get everything you need,” Natasha assures me. “I know you were upset the other night when Julian showed you the pictures of her, but I hope you’re also seeing the positive. She’s alive, and our guys are going to find her for you, Violet. And when she’s back, we’ll all help in any way we can.”
“I appreciate that so much.” I sit on a couch, giving it a try. It’s too hard. “I do see that side of it, that she’s breathing and looks relatively healthy, although she’s much thinner than she used to be. I think it shocked me.”
“Understandable,” she says with a nod and points to another sofa. “This one is more comfortable.”
I sit in it and nod in approval. “It’s a neutral color too. Sold.”
“That fast?” Natasha asks.
“Definitely.” I look around at the way the store has this faux room set up, with its couch, chair, tables, and entertainment center. It all matches and looks nice. “Let’s just take this whole setup. I like it.”
“Done,” Natasha says with a nod. “Now, the bedroom. And she’ll need a table and chairs for the breakfast nook.”
“You know, I’ve never really been one to enjoy shopping,” I inform her as we move to the dining room section of the store.
“I never was, either, but I’m getting better at it.”
We walk through the tables and chairs, and I choose a smaller set that will look nice in the space by the kitchen, and they have matching stools for the island, so that’s a score.
An hour later, we’ve chosen a bedroom set and a dresser and made arrangements for delivery.
“We need lunch,” Natasha decides, and my stomach growls, agreeing with her.
“Have you been to the Tex-Mex place across the street?” I ask her.
“It’s myfavorite.”
With that decided, our guards insist on driving us to the restaurant, rather than simply walking across the parking lot, but that’s okay because it’s freakinghotin Vegas today.
“Can you guys have some lunch?” I ask Bobby, but he shakes his head.
“We’re on the job, ma’am. We’ll eat later.”
“I mean, you could sit at a table right next to us and eat,” I reply, and Lucky shakes his head.
“We’ll be fine,” he says in that gruff way that has me shrugging a shoulder.
When we’re seated at a table that’s not next to windows, I notice that all four of our guards are scattered around the perimeter of the restaurant, on high alert.
“Is it always like this?” I ask Natasha.
“Like what? Oh my God, they have the best salsa here.” She pops a chip in her mouth.
“They look like they’re guarding the president of the United States,” I reply before taking a bite of my own chip. “Like there could be a coup at any moment.”
“Anything could happen,” she says calmly. “I mean, not that long ago, Lulu, Scarlett, and I were leaving a concert and got ambushed by the enemy. One of my guards was killed.”
I stop chewing and stare at her. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. Not kidding. Julian was hesitant to even let me come today, but I talked him into it.”
“That reminds me. They say things like ‘I’d never allow that.’Or ‘I’ll let you do this.’ Doesn’t that annoy the hell out of you? It’s like they’re the boss and we’re just supposed to agree without a discussion.”
Natasha nods slowly and swallows, takes a sip of the margarita that was just put in front of her and then licks her lips. “I understand what you’re saying, but they aren’t protective because they’re trying to control us or treat us like they own us. Not at all. Every decision like that is made with our safety in mind. So, if Mateo were to say ‘You can’t go there tonight,’ it’s not because he’s being a dick. There could be something wrong with the location, or he’s worried that you’re being followed, or he’s been threatened in some way. When we told you before that our guys have enemies who want to hurt them, we weren’t kidding.”