So, I have a lot of free time. I go to the museums and the galleries, I go to the ocean, I go to the barn, but the thing I like to do, that I do everywhere – is people watch. Hotel Casa Blanca is a wonderful place to go and do that. All different types of people come and go and I am able to go unnoticed. Well. Normally, I go unnoticed. I am the sister to one of the most notorious bad boys of the city. Gabriel Lexington. DAUGHTER to one of the most powerful men. Caleb.

Isn’t life grand.

I walk in through the large swinging doors and scan the lobby for a pair of empty seats. Spotting some to my right I meander to them and plop in the nearest one facing the entrance. I place my arms gingerly on the armrests and splay my hands wide so that they span across the width. I dig my fingers in – FLASHBACK I feel like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. Where is my little pinky?

Shifting in the seat I sit upright and bring a magazine out of my bag, the latest edition of Cosmopolitan. Hey, I have to keep up to date on the latest moves and grooves of the sex-y world we live in…now if I could only poke some eyeholes through the cover. To be honest, I am not paying much heed to the scripture written in the colourful pages in front of me. Instead I am watching the handsome boys and pretty girls who are walking in to do business, or rent out a room for the er – afternoon.

So, this is a dangerous game I am about to play. Like poker for all the marbles when you have a major tell. Sigh. This is going to be good.

Kingston Marino is hard to miss. His brazen good looks and confident walk naturally draws the eye. I had been looking at a couple across the room that had paused in their mutual adoration of each other to stare at the man as he walked past them and froze – and looked at me. At this point, I knew shit was about to hit the fan. The speed of the fan is yet to be determined – but shit is flying. Or at least, it is about to.

I quickly drop my eyes to the page. I am not equipped in any way to speak to the Capo Crimini of the Italian Mafia. Oh. So THIIIIIS is why my parents don’t want me to go out of the house alone. Not that I am scared that he is going to hurt me, or anything like that. Just more, the overwhelming nerves that comes from a lack of experience in this field.

I watch him as he approaches and sits in the chair next to me, leaning over my shoulder. I smile cheekily. “Maybe in your dreams Mr. Marino.” I quip. As I listen to his laughter and fold the magazine in my lap. “Oh, attracting less then innocent attention comes naturally to an innocent little lady like me. It is in my blood.” I reply. It is true. I open the front door to my house and I am begging, SCREAMING for naughty boys, cocky boys, and arrogant boys and Mafia boys to come traipsing down the road and knocking on my door.

I tuck a strand of curls behind and ear and shift myself in my chair so I face Kingston more directly. It would make it easier for me to focus and concentrate if he wasn’t so damned good looking. I am not shallow – to an extent but I EASILY get distracted when a smokin’ hot body walks in the room – it is a serious problem. My heart is soft and is easily fooled. That is another problem – I should work on that…big time. “What brings you here on a day as nice as this? Shouldn’t you be out terrorizing some poor unsuspecting woman?” teasing is safe. Kingston’s reputation as an aggressive pursuer of women is no secret. What is it with mafia boys and women?

Naturally, on occasion I wish that I had no affiliation with mafia - of any lineage. Okay that sounds stupid and it is. I love my family very much and wouldn’t trade them for the world, but my big mantra that I don’t have, the one thing that I would do anything to achieve is freedom. Even to be a male in my family would give me the reprieve that I need. I am like an animal kept on a chain that is few feet short of its water bowl.
 
I am thinking this, explaining this to describe how though both Kingston and I have grown around Mafia, been trained in the Mafia career path – our confidence, both in type and abundance is different. Kingston breathes confidence; he was shown never to fear, never to be weak. Me on the other hand? I was given what, personal, intellectual confidence? Not that Mr. Marino isn’t smart – he is a very, VERY intelligent man, but I don’t have the lack of fear that he seems to boast. No, I carry a 50lb backpack of fear with me everywhere I go. For if I put the wrong foot in the wrong place, or breathe at the wrong time – who knows who it could effect. Ever seen the movie Butterfly Effect?
 
Anyway, mind, back on track. Kingston’s touch is hot on my skin. It scores a line down my cheek. I feel my breath catch at the top of my lungs and I smile softly, cocking an eyebrow. I feel my heart beat quickly and fight to restrain the flush that rises to grace my face. Fucking blush – not right now. “I consider it my curse.” I retort. Best not to let someone high in the Italian family lure me into their lair. From the little I know I would see no harm in it – only some good fun. But then again, I am kept in the dark – kept away from the dark.
 
I can’t control the laugh that bursts at Kingston’s next comment. Ah, so I am one of those innocent, unsuspecting little girls? Makes sense I suppose. I catch myself staring at his beautiful teeth. Why do I feel like he wants to eat me…? Will someone tell me why everyone in the mafia seems to have the most amazing teeth? Just why are they all so beautiful and irresistible? It isn’t fair! I don’t want to have to say no! I am Gabriel Lexington’s sister! Life must hate me. Thus why I was born a girl. GAH! Gabe doesn’t have to say no to anyone. My grin splits crookedly and I roll my eyes at his question. Am I complaining? “Who? Me? Don’t be silly Kingston. Hardly anyone would find reason to complain with your charming self around.”
 
It clicks in my mind that Kingston must have been coming here for a reason, not any reason but a business reason. Duh, idiot. You really are unsuspecting aren’t you Abby Baby? I wonder who he is here to meet, what deal he is about to sign, who is his next target? My mind shivers at the thought. Not exactly a pleasant idea. Change the mental topic. “Do I have a giant bull’s eye painted on me somewhere?” I ask, pretending to scope out my body. I pivot my torso and arch to look at my back. I glance at Kingston and toss in a wink and half a smile. Charming. I am sure.
 
How did he recognize me so quickly? Well, he probably has memorized every angle of my profile. ABBY SHUT UP. Stupid eighteen year old girls.