Body of Trust - Jeannine Colette Page 0,23

them telling anyone where we’re going, I wouldn’t fret. Their job isn’t to report where I go. It’s to be there in case there’s trouble.”

“Doesn’t a club at night scream trouble? Besides, you’re the one who, just this morning, chimed in on why I shouldn’t go to work.”

“Work is not worth risking your life. Dancing with super-hot men is.” She does a shimmy, making the light reflect off her sequins. “Watching you walk away from your mom this morning was awesome. I’ve never seen that Amelia before. It was so badass.”

“While I appreciate the comradery, walking out of my mother’s house to go to work is hardly expressing my inner badass.”

“Then let it out. You’re twenty-five, and you live like a nun. Let loose and forget about all the drama. We deserve it!”

I look at her with her blown-out tresses and fresh spray tan, making her look amazing and full of life. She’s right. We should be living. Isn’t that what I told myself this morning on the subway? The old Amelia is gone. Here stands a new, fierce woman.

This is a horrible idea. My father is in hiding. Jesse thinks the Lugazzis are looking into me. I’m pretty sure the guy I’m crazy about is a spy. And still, I actually think getting out and doing something fun might be good for me. I’m officially losing my goddamn mind. I think it’s because we’ll have bodyguards, and that notion makes me feel better.

I can’t believe I’m even considering this.

“Will the guards be with us the whole time?” I ask, making sure she understands them coming is high on my list of reasons why I’m even thinking about leaving.

“Like annoying chaperones at an eighth-grade dance.”

“This is worse than high school.”

“I know! So much fun.” She pulls me up off the couch and down the hallway toward my bedroom. “Now, come on. Let’s get you sexified.”

“Eww. Don’t say that word,” I huff as I walk over to my closet. “What kind of outfit are you thinking?”

“Remember that dress you wore to Anthony’s birthday dinner when you two were still together?” She waggles her brows as she stands by my dresser, looking at my jewelry. “That one but with your knee-high boots.”

“I wore those boots as part of a Halloween costume.”

“A sexy-cop costume. Tonight, you’re going to be sexy Amelia,” she says, holding a pair of my giant hoop earrings up to her ears as she models them in the mirror.

I pull the cocktail dress out of my closet. It’s black with a shiny, metallic fabric that makes the light dance off of it when I walk. Spinning the dress on the hanger, I look at the long-sleeved number. “I don’t want to draw attention to myself.”

She holds the earrings out to me, and I take them. “Wear the dress and whatever shoes you want. I’m just glad you’re going out.”

As I walk to the bathroom to change, I know it’s a bad idea to go out.

I hope I don’t regret this.

Chapter Seven

Ever since high school, when the resurgence of industrial Brooklyn communities morphed into high-end dwellings for Manhattanites, Sienna has made this her stomping ground. Every restaurant and bar has been imbibed by her. And the clubs are her playground.

She’s brought me with her a few times. The food in the area is great. The bars are fun, but the clubs are always too wild for my taste. I wonder why she even asked me to come along. She has a ton of friends, and yet she always attempts to get me to burst out of my shell. This is Sienna’s way of showing she cares.

As we walk to the entrance of Club Elektra, I’m surprised to see a line around the corner.

“Your hair looks awesome,” Sienna says, patting down my flat-ironed mane. “And you look even better in that dress than I remember.”

“I’ve definitely put on weight since the last time I wore it.” I pull my dress up because it’s showing a tad too much cleavage, which only makes the hem creep up my thighs higher. I am definitely thicker than when I dated Anthony.

“That’s because the Italian douche always commented on what you were eating. And you’re too nice of a person to argue with him. I’ve never seen a girl put her fork down so easily.”

I’m not a doormat at all. But there is some truth in Sienna’s words. I find confrontation to be a waste of energy, which is why—in hindsight, I realize—I allowed Anthony to