Joanna laughed. “That’s the spirit. A splurge is definitely in order.”

Francesca pulled the money from the pocket of the coat and walked with the salesman and Joanna to the counter. Every single step was heaven. Keeping her hands below the counter, so the salesman wouldn’t see, she counted out the bills. Most were hundreds. There were a few twenties and two tens. She knew the color left her face and her heart nearly stopped beating before it began pounding.

She caught Joanna’s arm and dragged her away from the counter. “Oh. My. God. Joanna. There’s over a thousand dollars here. I’ve been walking around with that kind of cash in the pocket of the coat. What was he thinking?”

Joanna gawked at her. “Are you sure?”

Francesca nodded slowly. “Positive. I counted twice.” She glanced toward the counter. The salesman was watching them closely.

“Is something wrong?”

For the first time, Francesca glanced at his name tag. Mario Bandoni was totally into Joanna. Even though he was asking Francesca if something was wrong, he was looking at Joanna with a softness in his eyes.

“No,” Joanna answered for them. She snatched two of the hundred dollar bills from Francesca. “We’ll take a couple more pairs of socks as well.”

“Joanna,” Francesca protested.

Joanna ignored her and handed the money to Mario. He flashed her a grin, disregarding Francesca’s protest as well.

“You going to write your phone number down?” he asked Joanna.

Francesca walked across the room to stare out into the gathering dusk. There were two men standing just off to one side of the store talking together. A couple walked by, the man glancing over his shoulder warily several times at the two men still talking. Francesca realized she’d never seen a hint of nervousness when she’d walked home from work the night before, or when she’d walked to the deli in the morning.

She wondered at a family who could protect their territory so well that the residents felt that safe, even in the middle of a city. Pulling Stefano’s coat closer around her gave her a strange sense of security. It shouldn’t. He was a terrifying man. She didn’t understand why he would give her a thousand dollars so casually. He didn’t know her. For all he knew she would go on a shopping spree at his expense. She knew, now that Joanna was aware how much cash she had, that Joanna would try to talk her into buying decent clothes. She’d probably insist they go to the club.

“Where are you two heading?” Mario asked.

“Petrov’s Pizzeria” Joanna said. “I plan on impressing Francesca with the best pizza in the world, although I didn’t make reservations. I’m counting on Tito letting us in. He always finds me a table.”

“Best pizza ever.” Mario flashed a grin at Joanna.

“We’re also thinking about hitting the Ferraros’ club this weekend,” Joanna said. “I’ve got a go-to-the-front-of-the-line pass. Do you like to dance?”

He laughed at her. “Joanna, come on. Who was the king of dancing in school?”

She wrote down her number. “Call me. We’ll set something up.” Waving her hand, she pulled open the door and they went back outside. She leaned into Francesca. “I’m so going to get lucky. I’ve always crushed on Mario. Always. He’s so sweet. And I have to tell you, the man can dance like no one’s business.”

“Only you can walk into a shoe store and come out with a date,” Francesca observed. “You could in college and apparently you’re still as hot as ever. I don’t think the man could describe me even if someone asked him to. He had eyes only for you.”

“That’s not true.”

Francesca laughed. “Don’t deny it. You’ve always been a man magnet, at least as long as I’ve known you. I’ll bet you were the prom queen.”

“You know I was, so you can’t bet on that,” Joanna protested, pushing at Francesca.

A hand caught Francesca’s coat from behind, whirled her around and slammed her so hard against the wall the breath was knocked out of her. She felt the hot burn of something against her throat. A man held her tightly, one arm shoved against her chest, the other holding the edge of a knife to her throat. She knew he’d made a very shallow cut there because not only did it burn but she felt the trickle of blood.

She should have thought about dying, but all she could think about, rather hysterically, was that she couldn’t get blood on Stefano’s coat. He loved that coat. He’d made a big deal about her returning the coat. She should never have worn it anywhere. Joanna let out a shocked scream that was hastily cut off. Francesca could see a second man with his arm around her throat and a hand over her mouth.