“No, I think it’s cute,” Lucy says, sitting on the edge of the bed and tilting her head to the side as she considers my second sundress-and-sweatshirt outfit in as many days. “I think you look beachy. Cool.”
My shoulders slump a little as I look down at myself, considering. “I’m not sure ‘beachy’ and ‘cool’ are the right descriptors for a mob boss’s new girlfriend.”
“Is that what you are?” Lucy asks, leaning forward, eager.
I laugh a little, blushing as I shrug. “I mean, I don’t know,” I say with a sigh. “We didn’t really…talk about it.”
“Well, you have to talk about it,” she says, sitting up straight and lifting her chin. “You have to define the relationship. Don’t let him get out of it, Iris – these mafia boys, they’ll take a mile if you give them an inch.”
I bite my lip. “I’m not
