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“Castor DeMatteo asked for you personally to help wait on their event.”
My heartrate starts to rise, pumping through my chest and right into my ears.
“N—no thank you,” I stutter.
“He pays in gold, Gia. Triple what you make in a week, for a few hours.” He keeps eyeing the curtain, as if scared someone is going to run out and strangle him.
“I know how he pays.” I fidget uncomfortably.
Marty leans in. “Look, he told me to be persuasive, but I obviously can’t force you back there. What should I tell him?”
A tingle runs from my chest all the way down to my gut – an uncomfortable feeling I haven’t felt in a year, easy.
Castor wants him to be persuasive… for me? Why?
His eyes locked on mine flashes through my thoughts again, bringing with it that schoolgirl crush rushing into my bones like lightning.
Temptation to stray from my boring non-fire routine gnaws at me. Every bone in my body wants to see what’s behind the curtain now that I’m invited. Periodic cheers and laughter sounds fun – better than the Friends laugh-track that I’m bound to.
Stacey would kill me.
I fidget in place.
“Gia? C’mon, I gotta get home.” Marty snaps his fingers.
Maybe I should just ask him where my brother is and leave.
I bite my top lip.
No harm in that.
“Hello, earth to Gia.”
“Fine, I’ll go for a little,” I say, and find my breathing suddenly shallow now that I officially betrayed myself.
“Really? Alright, great. High-heels in the back.” Marty smiles. “You just scored me some points with the Bangos big ticket. I owe you one.”
Chapter 2
Gia
I can’t believe my fingers are actually shaking as I pull the strap of my closed-toe heel. Well, it’s not mine, per se, but one I’m borrowing to work the VIP area tonight. That’s not the point. I’m rambling, even in my head.
Does Castor make me that nervous?
Thinking back to a time in my teens when I overheard him asking my brother if I should be invited to his eighteenth birthday party makes me forget how to breathe. Imagine—Castor DeMatteo, considering me? My boyfriends were all my age, nerd-adjacent, and not at all daring like the mobster guys. To think an older boy as hot as him even had a thought about me, ugh. That’s what it feels like again, all these years later. Looking in the Bangos bathroom mirror makes me scoff. My face is glistening with sweat from running around all night. It should be dark in that room – like club dark, but still, he’s inviting me to be one of his hot-ass servers. I should play the part a little bit, right?
Dabbing a paper towel over my face gives me some idea of where to reapply a little foundation. Not too much. I don’t want to come off as one of their goomahs… Just need enough to fit in.
As I carefully reapply, I’m lost in a memory of when those two idiots – my brother and Castor – rented a portable hot tub to be delivered to my parents’ backyard while they were away. They invited four slutty girls to join them, and little ol’ me was stuck in her room, peeking through the blinds wishing I was next to him. That was the first time I realized not only did he have a chiseled, perfect face, but his body was rock hard too. That was before all the gold rings and endless tattoos. God, he’s even hotter now.
When I remember where I am, I notice I’m blushing.
What would a top Valentino family earner want with a brown-eyed, run-of-the-mill server at Bingo Bangos? I’m getting ahead of myself. Maybe Marco just told him to keep an eye on me or something.
Well, now’s my chance to go find out how my brother is. I adjust my breasts to be perfectly situated, then walk out of the bathroom. The night shift servers are all bright and bubbly in the main dining area, and I do my best to walk right past them, toward the curtained-off section with two bouncers blocking it.
The last thing I need is a gossip train leading back to Stacey.
