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We never heard anything until it was too late.
It looks like Portello has the whole neighborhood on the take already, primed to make his next moves.
But as I get closer, something else catches my eyes. And in a single moment, all the worries and pain of last night simply vanish.
I can only see her from behind, but my god. What a behind.
A car honks as I step out in front of it, the driver screeching to a stop inches from me.
An older-looking woman winds down her window to apologize once she sees where I’m headed. Her intense stare seems to be trying to tell me something, though.
And despite already being distracted, I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before.
But the mystery girl across the street is front and center in my mind. She’s having an effect on my already stiffening and bulging hardness inside my jeans.
It feels like my luck’s changed in a second, and as if on cue, the rain stops.
Hell, the sun even beams out from behind the gray skies and shines a light right down on the old restaurant.
Now, if that’s not a sign, I don’t know what is.
But she’s lighting up my world more than the sun, and I hurry to look at her closer.
Even seeing her sitting opposite Don Portello doesn’t faze me.
He looks older and frail, even weaker than Papa.
But who isshe?
I know Portello has a daughter, but nobody’s seen her for years. He keeps her locked up safe.
He’s deathly afraid rival families, or gangs will snatch her and use her for ransom or worse.
Her long blond hair trails down her back, still damp from the rain she’s just been out in, and I’m guessing she’s not Portello’s daughter.
Like me, she has an appointment, and when I reach the door, it takes a moment for the men guarding it to recognize me and open up to let me pass inside.
Before I can get a closer look at her, I see Portello take something from her hand, some paper that he balls up and sets beside him.
Maybe he’s already getting messages of his own….
And fuck me if I can’t even remember what I’m here for now. I’ve seen the perfect girl from behind, which I need more than anything to see more of.
Right now.
But I also have to keep up appearances. I have to be stone-faced.
I’m Rocco, the rock with a face like stone.
It’s what I do best apart from being huge and scary looking.
Opening my jacket a little, it’s clear I’m unarmed. But every hand in the place is in a pocket, ready to start shooting if I don’t play nice.
And it’s now she gets up.
It has to be now of all moments when I have to keep my face stoney.
The one time I’d like to smile at someone I can just tell is special. Give her the only thing I can right now, a smile.
