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Chapter One
Giovani
The Hedonism Rooms at the top of the exclusive Havana Cigar Club are one of the best kept secrets in Las Vegas, as well as one of the best kept bars in Las Vegas. They usually have one of the best filled indoor pools, too.
Most nights, especially late, as the nights rock on into morning, this place looks like a scene from a rap video.
One of the scenes they cut out. Too wild and too hot. Too steamy to stream.
Waitresses are more attentive than usual. I can’t say that I mind. They’re all beautiful. Curvy and graceful, and they all have wet lips and a hungry look.
“Giovani,” When Selina serves Negronis to Joey and me, Umberto calls across the table.
“Why are you soaking up all the girls’ attention, Gio?” I know he’s trying to be smart, wanting to break my balls about it, but there’s an edge. “You don’t even take ’em. They give you their numbers and you keep ’em like, in case they need you to help ’em move apartment or something.”
I shrug. “I’m not doing anything.”
As I’m saying it, Selina looks back at me from the far side of the bar. She throws a smoky smile over her shoulder, waving her fingers at me.
Umberto’s eyes narrow. “All the pussy pouts for you.”
His brother Lenny says, “Man, can’t you just take one and fuck her? At least all the others would have to look around once in a while.”
Joey and I shake our heads. Umberto’s hands stretch out, palms up as he looks upward and says, “He doesn’t want them. He just wants to be their fucking uncle.”
“But the good fucking uncle.” Lenny joins in. “The not-fucking kind of fucking uncle.”
Umberto shakes his head, “You’re too good to be true, Giovani.”
Joey explodes and blows half his Negroni. I let out a laugh at that one, too. “Umberto, you know that’s bullshit.” We’re all red-faced laughing and I get us more drinks to make up for what was sprayed.
Selina is only too happy to bring me another tray of drinks. That sets Umberto off again, with Lenny riding shotgun for him. All with the backdrop of girls in string bikinis and less, splashing in the classical Roman style pool.
Joey Calhoun built the club, and he owns it. My best friend since high school, his temperament is like mine. He’s cool about all the excesses and shenanigans, but happy to watch from the sidelines.
We perch on the edge of the room, sipping Negronis in our five-thousand dollar Italian suits, near the big windows and the spectacular view.
Neon sparkles up from the nighttime Strip and the redness of Nevada stretches away beyond like a dark ocean.
The downstairs gaming rooms are tables only. No machines, no slots. And no electronic beep and babble. Cool jazz, mostly from live trios and quartets. The invitation-only clientele Joey has cultivated is up-market and they take their sins seriously.
The hysteria and mayhem in the pool always amuses me. There’s a decadent, limitless, playful innocence about it.
The wild playboy lifestyle is not my style, though. I’m strictly watching from the sidelines.
I’m a senior captain in a major crime family here in Vegas, and I take my responsibilities seriously. While I keep an eye on what goes on, nobody is going to find compromising clips of me.
Not that it could do me any harm. But the family has a reputation and I want to help maintain it. Indiscretions among the Morettis are rare. But if any one of us did want to slip the leash and misbehave, it wouldn’t be in public view. You wouldn’t see pictures in the media.
We rarely take selfies in public places.
It’s a point of pride in our family to avoid media attention altogether. We move under the radar.
Press attention is good for commercial operations, but spotlights on individuals are not what we want for our business. We have front people for that.
But the daughter of a Los Angeles family is an internet ‘influencer.’ Lily Franconi, daughter of Leo Franconi, the head of the family, no less.
I can just imagine what Dad would have said if one of my sisters, or brothers, come to that, had tried the same thing.
So, when Liam O’Malley, the patriarch head of the O’Malley family, said that the Franconis were coming to town for meetings with the O’Malleys, I was surprised Liam asked for me to act as Lily’s bodyguard.
But Dad wants me to do it. The rifts between our family and the O’Malleys have been long and bitter, and we’re only just beginning to get over them. So it’s natural that as soon as Liam asks for a favor, Dad wants to oblige if he can. I only wish this wasn’t the favor.
So, while meetings go on between the top family in Vegas and the out-of-town mob, I’m set to play nursemaid. Not only to a mafia princess, but a bratty one who sees taking selfies as a career.
