Page 10 of Cara & Gian: The Guzzi Duet

“Gian!”

A smile split Gian’s lips at his oldest friend’s shout. Constantino was already pushing his way out of the booth, offering little more than a fast apology to the redhead sitting beside him.

“You’re late,” said his friend.

“The boss called. I sent you a text and said I had to run over to Ma’s.”

That was all he gave as an explanation.

Constantino didn’t ask for more.

“Well, you’re here now and—” Constantino’s words cut off as his gaze fell on someone in the crowd over Gian’s shoulder. His eyes narrowed, and Gian knew then that whoever his friend had recognized was about to wish that Constantino hadn’t seen him. “He owes me a grand, that fucking cocksucker.”

“All right, try not to break anything while you’re in here, huh? Keep any blood spills to a minimum.”

Constantino flashed a grin. “For you, always.”

“Yeah, yeah. Play nice.”

“Whatever you say.”

He smacked Constantino hard in the back of the head as the guy walked past him, dark laughter escaping him as he ducked an incoming swing from his friend.

“You’re getting slow, cafone,” Gian taunted, his back now facing the booth that Constantino had come from. “You’re supposed to be the young one here.”

“Give me fifteen minutes,” his friend shot back. “We’ll see how slow I am.”

Then, Constantino was gone, disappearing from the VIP section and off into the swelling crowd of people.

“I see you finally climbed off your grandfather’s dick long enough to show your face around here, Gian,” came a voice from behind him.

Gian stiffened, his teeth grinding. Reason number too-many-to-count why he hated Stephan Zito.

Turning slowly, Gian faced the grinning Capo at the booth, paying no mind to the other people at the table. “Do you want to try that again, Stephan?”

“No, I think I got it right the first time.”

“Do you? Think really hard, now. You’ve got some time.”

“Well—”

“Because I’m pretty fucking sure that to you, his name is boss, and nothing else. And if we’re going to be talking about climbing on dicks, I’ll let you take the lead on that one, since you seem to have quite a grasp on which man likes which dick the best. You’re the only one speaking up about it, anyhow.”

Stephan’s face reddened.

Gian only smiled.

“Stephan, grab me another one of these, would you? They’re delicious.”

Bambi’s high voice broke the staring contest between the two men, making Stephan look to his goomah’s hand, where she held out an empty martini glass. The girl was smart; Gian had to give her that. It was not the first time she had stepped in to divert her man’s attention and kept him from getting his face broken.

Made men didn’t fight. It was against every rule Gian knew. He’d break that one for Stephan, if pushed the wrong way.

“Yeah, sure, babe,” Stephan said, grabbing the glass. “Pretty sure that’s what the fucking servers are for in this place, though.”

Stephan was pushing out of the booth and heading past Gian without a look back.

Gian couldn’t help himself.