Giovanni backed away from the counter. “Not going to happen, woman. You give him that coat in person. He’d kill me over that coat. Wear it. He’ll be checking on that, too. Buy some shoes and wear the fucking coat. Put him in a good mood for a change.”

What did that mean? Stefano looked like he was in a good mood when he was smiling for the cameras with all those women hanging on his arm.

Giovanni turned away from Francesca, which was just as well because she might have thrown something at him. “Joanna, you haven’t been by the club for a while.”

Joanna had closed the rest of the magazines, stacked them and turned them all over so only the back covers showed. Francesca was fairly certain it was too late. Giovanni had seen what they were doing. There was no doubt in her mind that he would report that to his brother as well.

“You been giving our competitors your business?” Giovanni’s tone was teasing, but Joanna looked nervous.

“I love the club,” she said, “but the price is a little steep, and I usually don’t make it in even if I come up with the door fee.”

Giovanni’s face darkened. “What did you say?”

“It’s all right, really. I understand. It’s a hot spot. I don’t exactly have the clothes . . .”

“That’s bullshit.” He pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to her. “Skip the fucking line and show that to the bouncer. They don’t let you in, you call the number on that card and I’ll handle it. You’re one of ours. They let you in when you want in. Come this next weekend and bring Francesca. I’ll be there and so will Stefano. We’ve got a meeting. If there’s any trouble, just call.”

Francesca was horrified. Shocked, too. Giovanni sounded really angry. Not because of her, but on Joanna’s behalf, and that made Francesca like him a little better. He didn’t like that Joanna had been refused entry into their club. Still, she was not going to some hot club. What was she going to wear? Her holey jeans? Not likely.

They watched Giovanni leave, and then Francesca came out from behind the counter. “What in the world was that?”

“I don’t know, but clearly the family is watching over you,” Joanna said. She held up the card. “Can you believe he gave me this? He was angry that they didn’t let me in. He said to just jump the line, too. Can you imagine getting to do that? I’ve gotten into the club a couple of times but usually they turn me away at the door.”

“That’s terrible. Snobs.”

“The Ferraros clearly aren’t the ones being snobs,” Joanna said, waving the card at her. “We can go dancing, Francesca.”

“I can’t go,” Francesca protested. “I wouldn’t have the money to get in, let alone something to wear. Seriously, Joanna, go with your other friends or by yourself. No way am I going out to a club, especially one the Ferraros frequent.”

“Own. They own it. They have several businesses, and that’s just one. The main family business is international banking. They also have the hotel, which is the bomb. Movie stars stay there. In any case, you have to come with me. They’ll expect it.” Joanna pressed the card against her heart. “I’ll find you something to wear.”

“No.” Francesca threw herself into the seat beside Joanna. “They’re watching me. He as good as said so. Why would they do that? Do you think they found out about . . .” She trailed off, and reached for Joanna’s hand. “They run in the same circles. If they tell anyone I’m here, I’ll have to run again and I don’t have enough money.”

Unbidden came the thought of the money Stefano had shoved into the pocket of his coat. It would be stealing to take it and disappear. She had the feeling if she did run, Stefano would find her. He would never allow her to steal from him and not hunt her down. She shivered at the thought. She didn’t want him coming after her. He would be relentless and she doubted if he had much mercy in him.

Joanna shook her head. “You’re under Stefano’s protection. That’s what he meant when he said to my uncle to take care of what was his. Clearly the Ferraro family is looking out for you.”

Francesca glanced around the room, took the stack of magazines, held them up and lowered her voice even more. “Are you crazy? I can’t come under any scrutiny. You know that. No one can know anything about me. Having Stefano Ferraro showing me any interest, for whatever reason, even if he’s just worried about my well-being, is dangerous.”

Joanna looked crushed. “I love that club. Celebrities go there. Movie stars, Francesca. It isn’t like they notice me, but I get to see them up close. Some of the NASCAR drivers go there as well. The bartenders do amazing tricks, just like you see in the movies, and the music is killer. Best dance place in Chicago.”