First my father, now my friends.
“That's what I wanted to ask you.” Sam said patting Paulina on the back and gently handing her over to me before going to perch on a stool. “I feel like there have been eyes on me every day for the past week, and not the good kind. It's the same for Paulina too, worse actually. The police came to take her away during a shoot, for no reason. She lost a role.”
I froze. What?
Sam sighed and looked over Paulina again, reaching to brush her hair. Her hair that looked unwashed and as fed up as her.
“I think the word spread too because some of her other jobs were withdrawn. Nobody wants to hire an actress that’s in some kind of shit with the police.”
I looked down at my best friend. Her arms were around me, but they were so weak.
“They took me in too, but you know in my field, my reputation isn't as important as it is in hers.” That was true, but Sam wasn't done. “They asked me questions about you, your dad, your husband, and his family. I think they were going to get aggressive, but my lawyer showed up in time. So, what gives? What's going on?”
I took a deep breath. Paulina had always known that I was the daughter of a mafia boss since I came clean in high school. It was something Sam also knew, but I never really went into details, the mafia world wasn't for everybody.
And even if it was, it wasn't for the girls. I never wanted to expose them to more than they needed to know, but now I had no choice.
They were suffering, and it was all my fault. The careers they were building were starting to crumble, but they wouldn't collapse.
I would never allow it.
As gently as I could, I propped Pauline up so she leaned against the counter. It was like she was dead inside, but I didn’t draw attention to it.
She was so good as an actress because she'd always been overly dramatic, but maybe this time it was warranted.
The fridge was packed with plenty of alcohol, but I pulled out an orange juice and combed the cabinets for glasses.
“So,” I said as I placed the glasses in front of both of them and poured the juice. “It’s connected to my dad being in the hospital.”
Sam and Pauline looked slightly concerned, but I didn't stop.
“There are people responsible for that, and well, we're fighting them. They've been going off the rails for weeks, months now, and we've had enough of their bullshit.”
“So,” Sam phrased carefully, “is it some kind of clan war or something?”
I scoffed, closing the orange juice, and tucking back into the fridge. “Yeah, because I'm the queen of the Vikings. No, it's more like a turf war, if we must use movie terms. They're trying to take away our businesses, and we're not giving shit up.”
“Oh.”
“But I am sorry that you guys have to be affected by it.”
Sam managed a little smile, for her and Pauline. “It’s ok. I'm sure we'll recover from this, right Pauline?”
We both looked at Pauline expectantly, and she sighed. “What if I don't and have to waitress again?”
“You waitressed? Sam asked, surprised. She looked at me, and I discreetly shook my head.
Then she raised a brow, and I gave her a pointed look, and she snorted, quickly looking away and feigning innocence when Paulina glanced up suspiciously.
Paulina grew up in an upper-middle-class home. The only time she waitressed was during our last summer vacation in high school when she wanted to try her hands at “the original start-up journey of successful A-list actresses.” She’d worked at that first-class restaurant for just one month, quitting immediately after she got her salary.
She gave me a suspicious look, and I shrugged.
Then Paulina shook her head and Sam and I burst out laughing.
“You’re laughing because you don’t know how hard it was being a waitress.”
“Of course not,” Sam joked, “forgive us oh mighty waitress goddess.”