He could talk, but he couldn’t move much. His head was all bandaged up, and his right arm and left leg were in a cast.
“Hello, Mr. B. How you doing today? Feeling any better?” Lucy asked.
“I’ve felt better,” Cole groaned.
“I see,” she replied. She leaned over and whispered in his ear. “I told you he was going to turn you into hamburger meat. A Moretti always keeps her promises.”
“I’ve already apologized to you many times. Will you ever forgive me?”
Cole was remorseful for his behavior. He had a lot of time to think about his life choices, the woman he chose to marry,the failure of his marriage, her betrayal with John, and the bombshell news that Michael was not his son. That finally broke him.
“I’ll think about it and let you know, okay?” Lucia said.
“I’m glad to hear that.” There was a pause. “Did you hear any news from your grandfather?”
“No. I haven’t. You know very well we can’t do anything without his say-so. We follow the chain of command. Now that Moretti, my father, is no longer here on this earth, Grandpa Moretti has taken over.”
Cole’s tears started to roll down his cheeks.
“Don’t cry. You’ll get better soon,” Lucia assured him.
“I’m happy Michael came by to see me earlier. But he said good-bye to me. Do you know what that’s all about?”
“I’m not sure, Mr. B.”
“He said he was coming back,” Cole replied.
“Okay, Mr. B. Whatever you say.”
Blondie, the jazz singer, knocked on the door and came into the bedroom. She had her usual getup on, a white shirt, shorts, and sneakers, and this time she carried a different, slightly bigger purse.
“Hi ya, sis,” Blondie said to Lucy.
What the hell? That’s Blondie. What is she doing here?Cole thought.
“Hi, sugar.” Kiss, kiss. They greeted each other. “Was this the pig you were telling me about?”
“Yeah. He was gross. As soon as I saw him ogling me in the jazz club, I decided to have a little fun with him. You know, turn him on, and then leave him wanting some more. He was like a little puppy.”
I hate you. I hate you all,Cole thought.
“You’re worse than I am, little sis,” Lucy pointed out.
“Yeah, I am. I even sang horribly out of tune just to see if I got the job. You know, I put him to the test: talent or tits and ass. I guess tits and ass won.”
You’re the worst. I hate you. Burn in hell,Cole thought.
Blondie was tired of being objectified and not taken seriously for her talent she had worked so hard to refine. Moretti, her father, had paid for all her private singing lessons over the years.
“There’s a change of plan,” Blondie whispered. She opened her bag, and Lucia took a peek.
Lucia gasped.
“Are you sure?” Lucia asked.
“It came directly from the horse’s mouth,” Blondie assured her.
Lucia took one out of the purse, and Blondie left hers inside.
