Chapter 3

With Sid’s words ringing in her ears, Cilla put a little more effort into her grooming this morning. She topped her black walking shorts with a pink cami and her white button down with the pink crown embroidered over the left breast pocket. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror she brushed her hair until in fell in soft waves down her back. She swept her bangs across her forehead and secured them behind her ear with a crystal-adorned bobby pin and pulled the rest back into a low ponytail. Applying a bit of mascara and slicking some gloss on her lips she declared herself ready.

Pouring coffee into a travel mug, Cilla headed down the stairs and into the back door of her shop. Sid was there waiting for her. “Morning, don’t you look pretty today.” Cilla rolled her eyes at him, “are you saying I don’t look pretty every day?” He kissed her cheek, “you look especially pretty today sweetie. Took my advice didn’t you?” She shoved him away from her with a smile, “Ass. Come on we’ve got to load the cake into the van and get it delivered by noon.”

Sid followed her to the refrigerator. “I can’t help you with the delivery today Cil. Mark and I have plans.” She turned to look at him, “what do you mean you can’t help me? It’s part of your job to help me.” He shook his head, “Mark has tickets to the new exhibit at the Met. I can’t pass that up, you know that. Then we’re going shopping. I found this pair of Ferragamos that are to die for.” Cill shook her head and rolled her eyes, “God help me for trying to come between you and your shoes. What was I thinking?”

Sid starting taking the tiers of the cake out of the fridge, “you’d do well to invest in a decent pair or two yourself.” Cilla got the cart from the corner and looked down at her feet. Her flats were worn and faded, but she considered them just nicely broken in. “What’s wrong with my shoes? They’re practical and comfortable. What more do I need?”

Sid made a face, “they’re hideous for starters. Did you find them at one of your favorite second hand stores?” He knew Cilla favored thrift shops and second hand stores to the multitude of retail shops that surrounded them in the City. She sighed as she gathered all the “extras” that would adorn the cake and decorate the board the cake was sitting on. “I still don’t see a problem.” He shut the refrigerator door, “you live like a pauper sweetie and I know there’s no need. Have you spent any of your grandma’s money?”

Cilla sat down on her stool, when her grandma has passed she had left Cilla everything, “no, but why should I. I don’t need anything. I’m happy with what I have.” He patted her arm, “I know sweetie, but once in a while it’s nice to splurge. Buy something brand new, something that no one has ever worn before. You might like it.”

She stood and moved things onto the cart, “maybe I will after I get this cake delivered. Where am I taking it again?” Sid smirked behind the receipt; she had done all the work, looked over the notes, but still had no idea who the cake was for. “The new museum building. Apartment on the 26th floor.”

Together they loaded every thing into the back of the van. Cilla got in and rolled down the window, “can I have the receipt?” Sid handed it to her, “be careful sweetie and don’t forget brunch tomorrow. Wear something pretty okay? Mark likes it when you do that.” Cilla laughed, “for him, I guess I can make the effort. Have fun shopping today and enjoy the art exhibit.” He headed around the corner and Cilla took off in the opposite direction.

Pulling up to the building she actually found a parking spot right out front. She picked up the receipt again, looking for the client’s name. J. Bongio…Oh My God, I’m going to kill him. She stepped from the van fuming at Sid. How could he do this to me? She took a deep breath and counted to ten; killing Sid would have to wait.

Walking to the door, the door man stopped her, “can I help you miss?” Cilla explained why she was here and who she was here for. “Do you have identification miss?” She produced her driver’s license and the order receipt. Satisfied that she wasn’t some crazy groupie trying to get in he handed her back her things. “Everything seems to be in order miss, do you need any help unloading?” Cilla shook her head, “I’ve got it, but thanks.” She hurried to the back of the van and slid the cart down the fold out ramp. The door man let her into the building and directed her to the elevator.

Riding in the elevator Cilla contemplated the many ways to kill a man without anyone being any the wiser. Jon Bon Freaking Jovi, he sent me to deliver a cake to Jon freaking Bon Jovi. What the hell was he thinking? She forced herself to stop frowning as the doors slid open. She walked down the hall, finding the door to the apartment slightly ajar. Pasting a smile on her face, she knocked and waited.

Jon was, at the moment, laughing and trying to chase down a half-naked Romeo. “Come back here you little monkey.” He followed Romeo down the hall, “you need your pants on man.” He stopped when he heard the knock. Tossing the pants in his hands to Richie, “go see if you can catch him man, I gotta answer the door.” As he walked to the door he wondered how Dorothea had managed to keep all four of them under control all by herself.