Although saying this, I have seen her dad, and I can totally picture it.

“Oh no, he’s not in an MC. He is the MC. He’s prez.”

I can’t help but laugh, which makes both of them look at me like I’m losing my goddamn mind. To be fair, I could be.

“Wow. Well, aren’t we a trio headed right for hell with our heritage? The mafia and the MC princesses. Ohhh… we should totally start our own gang.”

“Okay, how strong are your meds?” Calli asks, looking slightly terrified by my suggestion.

“Not strong enough,” I mutter.

“Okay, so gangs and killing people aside…” she says, skipping right past any more on that topic, “as you can see, we brought the spa to you.”

I look between the two of them, feeling way too emotional at the effort they’ve gone to. I fight not to let it show on my face, but from the sympathetic looks they give me in return, I don’t think I succeed.

They give me a face pack, paint my nails, and brush and braid my hair.

Carla pops her head in a few times to do what she needs to do, and by the time the girls have finished with me, I can’t deny that I feel a little better. Well, it could be that or the fact that Carla finally unhooked me from the machine and gave me more pain meds.

The sun has long set, yet Calli and Emmie seem to be more than happy keeping me company.

Calli’s put some god-awful reality TV show on that both Emmie and I are trying to ignore while they fill me in on the Knight’s Ridge drama from the past ten days.

“I’m hungry,” Calli suddenly whines.

I’ve got a tray full of dinner that I’m picking at, but they’ve had nothing. The food here is better than I was expecting, but it’s not really what I’m craving.

I want tacos. Tacos like in America.

Oh… or a burger from Aces on Rosewood’s beachfront.

Pushing my tray of barely warm food away, I try not to lose myself in thoughts of food I can’t have.

“Do you think the coffee shop is still open?”

“There’s only one way to find out. If it is, get me a panini,” Emmie says.

“Oh, so I’m going, am I?” Calli sasses.

“You brought it up.”

“But you’re clearly hungry.”

I sit there and look between the two of them with an amused grin on my face.

I like this. This is some kind of normal in all this bullshit.

“Ugh, fine,” Calli finally concedes, pushing up from the chair and grabbing her purse. “You want anything?” she asks me.

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.”

“Okay, be right back.”

Emmie waits until she’s closed the door behind her to speak.

“She really is the perfect mafia princess, isn’t she?”

“Hey,” I complain jokingly. “You trying to say it doesn’t suit me?”