“Ms. O’Davoren.”
“Ms. O’Davoren?”
“Ma’am?”
“Huh?” I lowered my gaze from the sky above me and focused on the lawyer, Avery Barrow he said his name was, standing in front of the black Mercedes in his suit.
“I understand. It’s just the sky…but after years of seeing it through windows or wires it doesn’t seem like just the sky anymore?”
I didn’t reply, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my old hoodie they’d returned to me. He took a step to the side for me, and the driver of the car opened the door for me to enter. Glancing back at the fences behind me once more before closing my eyes, I counted to five and opened them again…
This isn’t a dream.
“Whenever you’re ready—”
“I’m ready,” I said softly, sliding into the backseat of the car, expecting him to follow, but the door closed once I entered.
Instead, he walked around to the passenger seat while the blond-haired driver got behind the wheel.
“Is there anything you wish to listen to?” he asked, and I looked at the lawyer, who texted on his phone.
“He’s talking to you, Ms. O’Davoren.”
I glanced back at the driver, who met my glaze in the mirror briefly, waiting. Shaking my head no, I watched as the prison building shrank in the background…the fences stretched out. It wasn’t until we got to the four-way stop did it finally come to the end, and I felt really…
“Yes, ma’am,” the lawyer spoke into the phone. “Thank y—”
He stopped abruptly, obviously hung up on, and scrolled through his phone again.
“Was it Mrs. Callahan?” I asked.
“No. Ms. Callahan,” he replied. “Mrs. Callahan won’t call until you’re ready.”
Frowning, I shifted. “Are you trying to be vague on purpose?”
“No. Is there something you’d like me to clarify, ma’am?”
“Seriously? You’ve got like thirty years on me. Just call me Ivy. Enough of this Ms. O’Davoren or ma’am—”
“You still haven’t gotten it,” he stated, never once looking up. “You are no longer just Ivy.”
“No, I get it, the Callahan family is rich and powerful and you don’t want to upset them. But I’m not—”
“Not wanting to upset them?” He finally put his phone down and looked back at me. He looked like he was thinking it over for a moment before nodding. “You’re right. Offending them is dangerous. However, that isn’t why either I or Thomas here address you as we do. It isn’t why you were suddenly protected in there…that wasn’t fear, it was respect.”
“Respect?” My lips turned up out of a mixture of amusement and shock.
He nodded seriously. “Seven years…that’s how long you’ve been in prison. Whatever the reason, being so young, that is a tragedy…I’m sure just one of many in your life. And while you may feel like you have the worst, you do not. There are many people just like you. People cheated, victimized, abused, forgotten, the list goes on. Why? Because the world isn’t black or white. Sometimes you need to do bad to do good and worse to do even better. The Callahans made themselves the worst. The money, the fame, the power, was built on blood and bones. Why? Because no one else could do it. And in doing so, a kid who grew up living in Chicago’s most ghetto neighborhood, with an abusive father and junkie for a mother, came out of prison, with a full ride to college, where he became a lawyer. In doing so, helped other kids, kids no one even looked twice at, get reduced sentences, off death row, a second chance at life. So when I say you are not just Ivy, I’m saying you are now part of a family, that yes, has hurt many people, most deserving, some debatable, and surely helping many more. Anything you’d like to add, Thomas?”
The driver just shrugged. “They ain’t sent me to any college or anything. And I’ve heard things…but…” He met my eyes in the rear-view mirror again. “After what they did for my kids, I’d die if they needed me to.”
“Sounds like a cult. They take care of you and your family so you’d give up your life,” I muttered to myself, feeling ganged up on. The Callahans…I’d heard things too.
“By that definition, any government aid in America is also a cult.”
I sulked at him. “You’re definitely a lawyer, all right.”
They both smiled at my obvious loss and said nothing more. I closed my eyes for what I thought was only a second. The car came to a stop, and Mr. Barrow was calling me again.
“Ms. O’Davoren.”
I scowled, opening one eye.
“We’re here.” He nodded to his left.
Looking out the window, I saw the glass doors of a very fancy looking hotel. Sitting up, he stepped out of the passenger side, Thomas already standing outside. He didn’t open the door until Mr. Barrow made it to my side. Stepping out, the first thing I felt was the harsh wind, like ice pricking through me. Wrapping my arms around myself, I just watched as the valet took the keys of the Bentley in front of us and parked it near three Lamborghinis.
“Follow me. Don’t make eye contact with anyone,” Mr. Barrow stated, walking up the red carpet, and I did as he directed, but once we stepped into the warmth of the cream and gold marble lobby with a massive chandelier hanging above us, I couldn’t help but whisper.
“What are we doing here?”
He didn’t answer…so much for answering my questions.
I felt like a rat that had entered a five-star kitchen. People, not just any people, people who wore diamonds the size of doorknobs around their figures, stared at me confused as we walked toward the elevators. Mr. Barrow said nothing. He didn’t even look fazed as we waited for the elevator.
“Good morning.” A bellboy dressed in black and gold scared the shit out of me when the doors opened.
“What floor?” he asked, looking at Mr. Barrow when we entered, pretending not to notice me.
“Penthouse,” he replied, handing him a black card, which the bellboy used to swipe the reader before pushing the button.
“Thank you, sir.” The bellboy handed the card to him.
Mr. Barrow didn’t reply.
The ride was silent and fast. We went from the lobby all the way to the top in less than a few seconds, and when the doors opened, we came face-to-face with two men dressed in black suits, standing in front of the suite.
Mr. Barrow stepped out first and then moved for me to get off.
“Uh…enjoy your stay. Thank you for choosing the Troposphere Hotel,” the bellboy stammered, confused, but closed the door behind me once I was out.
The guards, both of whom were Asian, nodded at me before opening the double doors of the suite.
“This all screams shady—holy shit.” I gasped at the room—no, palace—which had the most stunning view of the city. Everything was gold. The chairs, the desk, even the lamp stands.
“Holy shit.” I turned as an Asian woman in a fitted burgundy skirt, diamond studded belt, and blue print blouse stepped inside from the patio. Her black hair was pulled back into an updo. There was not one blemish on her skin, like she was photoshopped in real life.
“Not the worst reaction my hotel has ever gotten.”
“Your hotel?” I repeated.
“Thank you, Avery. I’ll take it from here,” she said to him.
“No problem, Ms. Callahan.” He nodded at her and then at me. “Ms. O’Davoren, it was a pleasure.”
Just like that, before I could say anything, he walked out of the suite and I was trying to catch up. When I remembered what he’d said in the car.
“Ms. Callahan?” My head whipped back at her.
“Do I not look like a Callahan?” she asked, taking a seat in the throne-like chair, crossing her legs elegantly.
“No…I mean, not that...ugh. I’m sorry, do you mind letting me know what I’m doing here? I thought I was going to see Mrs. Callahan…well, the older Mrs. Callahan. Or…how many Ms. Or Mrs. Callahan’s are there?”
“We’ll get there. As for my grandmother.” She tilted her head to the side. “Do you really think you’re suited to meet her?”
The tone in her voice was sharp…and familiar.
Standing up straighter, I didn’t back down. “Yes. I’ve already met her—”
“Incorrect. Grandmother chose to see you because she is nice like that and overlooked your obvious flaws.”
Kind is hardly the word I’d use. “I’m sorry, what? Flaws? Just because I’m not all dolled up doesn’t mean—”
“Incorrect again,” she cut me off for the second time, glaring back. “How you present yourself now means everything…for you it is the only thing that matters. When my grandmother met you, you were no one. Now you are on your way to being someone. That means before she sees you again, you need to look the part and not like a starved teenager from 1985. Even I couldn’t bring myself to walk you here.”
“I’m sorry prison doesn’t come with a Bloomingdale’s card!”
“You’re forgiven, that’s why you were sent to me first.” She smiled even as I glared at her. “Now, would you sit so we can get started?”
“I’ll stand.”
“I wasn’t asking, Ivy.”
“Is everything all right, ma’am?” A maid, dressed in some of those ridiculous French outfits, came out of the bedroom.
The woman looked at me, waiting, and so I did as she said and sat on the couch.
“Yes, tell them we’re ready.” She directed the maid.
“Are you going to tell me your name or do I have to call you ma’am too?” I asked, reaching for the apple from the bowl of fruits on the table.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She smiled, adjusting the ring on her finger. “We’re about to be family soon. You can call me Nari. I’m Ethan’s cousin.”
“Ethan?” I repeated. “Is that the grandson I’m supposed to be marrying or whatever?”
She stared at me as if I were crazy and then just shook her head. “One step at a time.”
And not a second later, the doorbell, which I didn’t even realize hotels had, rang. The maid walked to it and opened the door, allowing at least a dozen people to enter. They came like soldiers, standing in front of us for inspection.
“The first three will take care of your nails, waxing, and facials.” She pointed at the three women, who just nodded, and she went on directing them. “I want her nails an opaque cream color. You’ll need to add length but not much, oval-shaped. For the waxing and facial...”
She looked back at me, and I just stared at her, not sure what half of the words coming out of her mouth meant. So I bit into the apple…annoyed at how good it tasted and how much I enjoyed it. It was just a damn apple.
“Her eyebrows are full. Keep them that way with a slight arch. Nothing drastic or strong. Everything else removed. Luckily her skin isn’t the worst, thank Jesus. She’ll need a laser facial, though, and smoothing mask. Do you have bumps anywhere?”
“Huh?” I licked my lips, looking at her.
“Bumps? Acne? Zits? Anything on anywhere?” she asked again. “Don’t waste time and be embarrassed, just say it. They aren’t anyone.”
Jeez, they are standing right there. And yet when I looked at them they didn’t even look fazed, just waiting.
“Ugh, I have this ingrown hair under my chin—” I said. When I did, she grabbed my chin, lifting it up and nodding.
“Take care of it,” she told the women, who nodded. “Anything else?”
“Do bruises count?”
Her eyes widened. “Where?”
“My ribs and a few on my legs—”
“Make it a full body laser, and also add buttermilk to her bath,” she said to them. “I want it done every day she’s here and also send a message to the head maid at the mansion for the same treatment to be done once she arrives.”
“Yes, ma’am,” one of them spoke out, and when Nari nodded they took a step to the right and a slim, tall woman stood alone.
“Her teeth—”
“My teeth?” I put my hand over my mouth. “I hate dentists.”
“I can tell,” the bitch shot back and then looked at the woman.
“Whiten, and while I see nothing wrong with perfection, the Irish…well, they don’t need her to be perfect. Don’t cut her teeth to be seamlessly straight…but as close to it wouldn’t be bad.”
Did this woman just say cut? And teeth? What the hell?
Next up was one short man, who stood waiting for his orders.
“Drop your hoodie,” Nari said to me.
Doing what she asked, I watched as both of them grimaced.
“What?” I asked, running my hands through my blond hair.
“You can’t be serious.” Nari sighed deeply. “What have you been doing to your hair?”
“Wash, dry, repeat…again prison—”
“Isn’t an excuse for this one. I’m sure they have a comb at least.” She shook her head and looked at the small man. “Obviously, we’ll need to take care of the knots and length. If you must add, cut it and add extensions, but I’d prefer not. She’ll need whatever miracle you can pull but keep it long.”
He nodded and stepped to the side for the final four, two men and two women, to stand in front of her.
“Clothes,” Nari told me. “Stand.”
“You told me to sit.”
She stared, waiting, and I got up. When I did the two women came over.
“We’re going to measure you, ma’am,” they said to me. I made a face and just nodded, lifting my arms up and out, allowing them to do their thing.
“She’ll need shoes, heels nothing less than three and a half inches. Nothing more than five.”
“Five? I’m already tall for a girl!”
“Ethan’s six foot four.” She said it as if that was the only thing that mattered.
“And if I can’t walk in these shoes?”
“I’ll teach you. Can I continue now?” she asked but didn’t wait for me to reply before going on. “Also get her bedroom and bathroom slippers, monogrammed IC. For the clothes, enough for at least a month. I’m sure Grandmother will settle the rest. Have those sent directly to the mansion. She’ll need at least a week’s worth here. That includes nightgowns, underwear, and a few dresses. Our biggest priority now will be the gowns for Ethan’s party. I want those custom. Contact whomever and tell them we need them for Saturday. Any questions?”
No one spoke.
“Brilliant. Now please save her.” She smiled at me, leaning back in her chair.
“This way, ma’am.” The first three, in charge of the waxing and all that, said to me as they led me to the bathroom.
I couldn’t help but wonder.
What the hell had I signed myself up for?
And what in the hell would I look like after this was over?
“Well?”
Sighing, I poured myself a glass of scotch.
“Nari.”
“She’s not Callahan material,” I told him truthfully, looking out at the city lights. “That said, she’s not a pushover and has no problem speaking her mind even if she’s a little scared. And even though she’s scared she’s determined to do whatever she needs to do. Will she be loyal after she gets what she wants? I honestly don’t know. But she isn’t like other women, in that she’s blinded by the money. I could tell she was pretty, which is proof that she’ll look gorgeous when I’m done with her.”
“I hardly care about that.”
“You’re lying,” I muttered, sipping the liquid slowly. “Whether you realize it or not. There is no man who doesn’t want a beautiful woman on their arm. Especially the one who will be theirs permanently.”
“Anything else worth noting?”
I glanced back at the room. “She’s…”
“Are you going to finish your sentence or should I wait with bated breath?”
I faced the city again, replying, “She has no idea who you are. She knows the Callahan name. I’m sure she has some idea about the family, but other than that, she doesn’t understand the severity of it all.”
“Then explain it to her. I don’t have time to baby her.”
“No, you don’t…but you’re going to have to find time for a lot of things because she’ll be your wife, and that means for the rest of her life people will be after her. We all know how lonely the mansion can be.”
“So nothing else worth noting. Good night.” He hung up.
Putting the phone down, I finished off my drink and put the glass down.
“Ma’am?”
I turned around to see the hairstylist. “You’re done?”
“As much as I could do for the night. She demanded to sleep. She’s in pain,” he said.
“Fine. Leave.”
Nodding, he called the rest of them out of the room.
I waited for them all to leave before walking into her room. She lay on the bed, curled up in a ball, dressed in only her robe.
“Not bad,” I said as her legs were now smooth, along with her toes and fingernails. The mask on her face made it hard for me to see how her skin was there, but I was sure it would be better. Her hair was up in rollers.
“I was waxed in places I didn’t know needed to be waxed,” she whispered, staring up at the ceiling.
“You’re welcome,” I said back to her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
Tilting her head, her blue eyes, which looked so much more striking without her cat hair on her face, focused on me.
“So if I went to this Ethan the way I came here he’d think I was ugly.”
“He wouldn’t think of you at all,” I replied honestly. “For some reason women these days want men to love them the way they are naturally…while the thought is nice, in reality it means love me even if I put in no effort. Why? If you put no effort into taking care of yourself, even your own body rejects you and breaks down, so why demand that on another human being? Getting dolled up, as you put it, is only seen as negative by people who for whatever reason are unable to do so themselves. We judge books by covers. We judge restaurants and hotels by the décor. We judge. Accept it and make sure you are judged by the worth you believe you are.”
Sighing, she sat up, crossing her legs. “And by marrying him I’m worth a lot.”
“Today we spent almost a million on you.”
“What?” Her eyes went wide.
I nodded. “That million is like a penny dropped in the family vault…I only told you so you’d know that yes, you’re worth a lot.”
“I’ve hated your family for a long time.” She hung her head down. “I cursed you all every day of my life. I grew up with people who cursed you all. The Callahans, the Irish thieves, murderers…”
“Mobsters.” I finished for her.
“So it’s true.” She shook her head. “So you guys really sell drugs?”
“I own hotels,” I repeated back instantly.
And she rolled her eyes. “Yea. Yea.”
I smiled. “You’re just like my daughter.”
“You have a daughter?”
I lifted my finger for her to see the ring on my hand.
“But your name is—”
“Ms. Callahan?” I answered, nodding. “Yes. I’m Nari Callahan, the adopted daughter of Neal Callahan, Ethan’s uncle. My mother married him when I was young. He legally made me his daughter. My mother, who was once so poor she and her brother fought over food, rose to be the wife of a Callahan, a position she was often scorned for, and I was often harassed, of course only behind our backs. None of them dared say it to our faces. I knew the moment I got old enough I was never giving up my name. It was the only link I had to this family. Of course, my grandmother and cousins would always love me. However, the moment I changed my name I’d be no one again. My husband understands.”
“Ugh…” She groaned. “You know you’re the third person today who’s tried to make it seem like I was marrying into royalty or something.”
“Look around, Ivy,” I said, rising to my feet. “You are. If you struggle trying to merge the Callahan family you’ve always heard about and the one you’re seeing now, then just think of it that way. The Callahan family is American royalty. You are marrying the king. And in order to be a queen, you’ll need to get waxed in places you’ve never heard of, and get poked and prodded up and down and twice over. You’ll be expected to smile even though you want to scream and say everything is fine even when the sky is on fire…because that’s what queens do. They make beauty look effortless and fear pointless.”
As I walked toward the door, she asked, “When do I get the Callahan handbook to profound speeches? So far everyone has outspoken me, and my dad used to say I’m sharp-tongued.”
“It’ll be my wedding gift.”
Closing the door behind me before she could talk again, I glanced down at the ring on my finger and reminded myself that…
I loved my husband.
But I’d never let go of the name Nari Callahan.
Exiting the penthouse, both of the guards nodded at me. I entered the elevator, taking out my phone. It only had to ring once before he answered.
“And here I thought someone forgot about me.”
“I did not. Not all of us have free time to just lounge around all day.”
“Excuse you. First of all, after the stressful life I’ve lived, there is nothing wrong with resting a lot. Secondly, I don’t even get to rest now that I’m a bar and grill owner—ouch!” he hollered. “We own a bar and grill!”
Smiling, I shook my head. They never changed. “Dad, you and Mom might want to hold off on the opening. Ethan’s getting married soon.”
“When did you all get so old? Just yesterday you were all kids fighting over who got to get on the back of my motorcycle.”
“You let them on the back of your motorcycle?” My mom snapped at him.
“You can’t be angry about that now! It was ages ago.”
“Oh really, and not just yesterday?”
I could listen to them like this forever.