CHAPTER EIGHT: Fair Warning
1083 Words
Thelma was holding Lucille to where her back was to the rest of the restaurant, her grip so tight that Lucille would have to use a bit of force to get away from her. “Why does it matter?” Lucille questioned.
“Tell me you didn’t,” Thelma urged. “You need to stay away from him, Luci.”
“Oh, but you can date Emil and be around the same kind of people?” she fired at her friend, her brow creasing.
She yanked her arms out of her hold but Thelma grabbed her once again and pulled her closer so they were eye to eye. “Emil is one thing, Noah Walsh is entirely another. Luci, I don’t think you know what you are getting into or what sort of people you are going to piss off—”
“Are you just mad that I’ve infiltrated your new world, Thelm? Were you trying to escape the life we had together so you’re mad that I’m tagging along?”
Her grip tightened on Lucille almost to the point of hurting her and her eyes widened with alarm. “You’re not getting it, Luci. People already know your name and are wondering what you are doing with him. People you don’t want knowing your name or where you work or live.”
Lucille’s anger dared to falter, but she was determined to hang onto it. She knew that being involved with a boss put her in great risk of such things, but she was still angry that she hadn’t seen Thelma in a week other than briefly the night before, and she was at their job, which she had quit, just to tell her to back off. “Why are you even here? You quit,” Lucille questioned, annoyance pinching her voice.
“Because I care about you, Luci.”
“You have a funny way of showing it,” Luci retorted.
Thelma lurched back, staring at Luci as though she had struck her. Her mouth opened, but it snapped closed and she shook her head. “You won’t be able to say I didn’t warn you.”
Before Luci’s mind could process the interaction, Thelma stormed off to exit through the back. Lucille stood there, her heart pounding away in her chest to a solemn tune. She wasn’t sure she and Thelma had ever fought before. It felt strange and she worried that she was, in fact, the one in the wrong. She was overwhelmed and sort of wanted to cry.
“You have a table waiting on you, Luce,” fellow waitress, Jane, called to her. “Table four.”
“I’m on it,” she muttered and took a brief second to compose herself before heading out to the tables. Withdrawing her notepad for orders, she cleared her throat as she approached, eyes locked onto the paper. “What can I get for you?”
“An explanation as to why you were with the Lupo last night,” a sultry voice replied.
Her brow furrowed and eyes lifted to the customer. Before her was a gorgeous woman with a deep olive complexion, glossy raven hair, and golden brown eyes. Her attire was nothing short of the finest money could buy, a fur shawl draped around her shoulders. Her lips were painted a deep red, mascara and eyeliner expertly applied to her eyes made her golden hues pop even more. “I… I’m sorry?” Lucille muttered.
“You are Lucille Emmanuelle Renaud, are you not?” the woman replied. When Luci didn’t reply right away, she added on, “Of 2461 Brunswick Avenue, apartment 4B?”
Lucille took a step back, utterly alarmed by hearing her address spill from the woman’s lips. Suddenly, Thelma’s warning was as clear as day to her. Why hadn’t she explicitly told her someone was there in the restaurant? “How do you know that?” she questioned.
“You still haven’t respected my request,” the woman tutted. “Why should I answer anything you ask of me?”
Lucille was scared, confused, and wasn’t sure if she should be truthful or lie. “What business is it of yours to know what Noah and I did?”
The woman laughed a musical, breathy laugh. A smile remained on her face as she stared up at Lucille with dangerous eyes. “Because, you naive dove, he is mine.”
Lucille swallowed a lump in her throat. “He didn’t say anything of having a gal already.”
“What man does?” the woman snorted before drawing out a cigarette holder and placing one between her lips. She lit it, took a drag, and narrowed her eyes at Luci. “I need you to stay away from him, you understand?”
Lucille should have just shook her head yes and scurried away, but her mind tormented her with the memory of the night she and Noah shared, how magical it felt when they kissed, and how waking up next to him felt right. Her heart was so certain that there was something pure, something greater than anything else she had ever felt before in her entire life, and it was only her mind holding herself back from throwing herself fully into him. But she owed it to her heart to see it through even if it took time, didn’t she?
“How… Why should a trust you that you are really involved with him and not some obsessed dame?” Lucille questioned, trying her best to sound brave.
The woman’s face altered into a look of pure disdain, her nose crinkling and eyes squinted. “Who are you to question me in such a way? I am Imelda Banchi, daughter of Mattia and Rosa Banchi.”
“That means nothing to me,” Lucille replied.
Imelda was on her feet in a flash and stood, hovering over her. “It will mean everything to you soon enough,” she warned with her voice kept low. “I want you to know, Lucille Emmanuelle Renaud, that this is me being nice. However, nice does not mean it is a request. You will stay away from Noah or you will learn the very hard way why the name Bianchi carries threat and power.”
Imelda snatched her purse from the seat, flicked ashes from her cigarette in Lucille’s direction, and headed for the exit. Lucille stood there, stunned, afraid, and… furious.
- Writer
