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Good. I want to get completely fucked up.
“That looks… clear.”
“You’ll love it, I promise.”
“Will drinking really make the pain go away?” I muse, twirling the glass around so the little orange peel swirls inside it. Kyle. Why do you always miss the ones who fuck you up the most?
Hopefully, this drink will get my ain’t shit ex off my mind, but let’s be real. What I really need is a summer romance. Ha. Like that’s going to happen in a country where half the people think I’m a prostitute because of my skin color.
“Yes. It will. Absolutely.” Edo replies with a wink.
“Cheers.” I swirl the drink around despite Edo’s repeated claims I ruin his creations by doing that. I pour it down my throat and taste a pleasant citrus flavor before a powerful vodka burn. It takes everything in my power to get the rest of the drink down my throat. Whew! That was a damn burn.
“What the hell did you put in that?”
Edo winks, but offers no response. Tricky ass Italian.
“My shift ends in ten,” he says. “I’ll take you out tonight to Jalousie. No getting out of it this time to watchEmpirein your apartment.”
How the fuck does this skinny ass white boy know me so well already? I shake my head, prepared to reject his offer to take me to the club, but Edo won’t let it go. He wriggles his brows suggestively.
He loves regaling me with stories about all the shenanigans that go down at the Amalfi Coast nightclubs. I’m not really a nightclub girl. Small bars like this one fit me better, but didn’t I come to Italy to have fun? Meet someone? I should put in some effort.
The only men who give me any attention are the creeps on the beach who say so much nasty shit to me in Italian that I’m glad I don’t understand.
Maybe I’ll meet better men at the club, especially a club with a fancy ass French name like this one. Jalousie. Wait… Edo’s mentioned Jalousie to me before in the past.
“Ain’t that the club with the mafia shootout you told me about?”
I don’t believe half the shit that comes out of Edo’s mouth, but he loves regaling me with stories about the real Italian mafia, which he claims is apparently far worse than any mafia in Long Island or Staten Island. How could anyone who lives in one of the most beautiful parts of the world hurt and kill other people? I think he likes telling tall tales to impress tourists.
I get people on Staten Island killing each other, but the Amalfi Coast? Hell fucking no. The sea is perfectly blue, the air smells fresh constantly, and it’s plain peaceful out here. Italians have a rich culture, amazing food, better wine and the guys here are hot.
Not every guy, but when you walk down the streets here, you definitely encounter more than a few hotties.They all dress like supermodels, too. I’ve never seen so many regular ass people sporting Gucci and Fendi.
“Yes,” Edo says. “But you’re here for 9 more months, right? Have a fling. Don’t tell him your real name… and disappear. You can find a hot and incredibly rich man to spoil you during your trip.”
“Wait… is this a gay club or my type of club?”
Edo chuckles. “The guys are hot. I didn’t say they were gay. You haven’t earned your way into going to a gay club with me yet.”
“Wow, Edo. I thought we had something going here.”
Edo shrugs. “My private life is my private life. That’s how it is in Italy. Your private life, on the other hand, is my playground. I’ll introduce you to people. I know people who frequent Jalousie.”
“Hot guys?”
“Eh…”
“Hot straight guys?” I correct myself before he answers. I don’t want Edo tricking me into going out for nothing.
“Not exactly… I have a girl friend in town who goes all the time — Cassia Pagonis.”
He says the name like I’m supposed to know who the fuck that is.
“Who the fuck is that?”
Edo chuckles. “A very fun girl with very hot brothers.”
