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While Gabby can count the precise days their children have walked the earth, her husband, Steven, can’t tally his fingers, toes, andassholes. Literally, he has two assholes! One he sits on and one he shoves food in. Steven now has the position that Gabby would’ve had at our family business had she not left. Steven fucked up today; however, our lovely Steven is off-limits as my father’s precious and my sister’s . . . precious? I guess. Gabby saw him as a sure sign to the children she desired.
So, Dad blamed me for my brother-in-law’s work-related mistakes. Now, I’m answering Santino. Not to cave, but to chew him out!
I’m seated at the wet bar in my penthouse apartment, chewing ice while swirling my gold label glass of scotch.
“Are you having a nice Saturday night?” I scowl. It’s as if every man I’ve placedsecondto my goals has joined forces to concoct a potion. I’ve never been so sexually jaded in my life.
He cuts through my musings with, “Gina, Bella—”
“Hmmm, I appreciate your ability to change between both names. Perfectly good groveling with that accent. I’ve been wondering if Bella was your fallback when you forget the name of your latest conquest.”
“I see where this is going, sweetheart. I’m sitting with my ma as we speak. She’s going to vouch for—”
“That bitch Toni?”
“Hey, Bella, baby, don’t use . . .”
I’m drunk enough not to care, and ‘Petty’ should be applied somewhere on my birth certificate. “Go ahead, put your mom on the phone.”
Ears perked, I listen silently. Is Santino paying some random transient on a street corner to cover for him? Better yet, why am I wasting my time?
I accept the transition from call to FaceTime. Might as well look into his face because I look good today! I’ve worked out and gotten a facial. I melt at the sight of him. All the retorts I’ve practiced fade from my mind.
“Gina, speak Italian for me.”
Past the formalities, I inquire in Italian, “Are you Santino’s mom?”
“Who?” A woman holds the phone close to her face. A thin eyebrow as well as an array of crinkle, are the only identifying factors in the frame.
“C’mon, Ma.” Santino groans in the background.
Adrenaline rushes through my veins, though I continue playing along. “So, are you familiar with Toni?”
“Antonia, Ma—”
The old bitty starts cussing about a woman named Antonia. Since all I can see is her eyebrow, it’s leveraged in anger as she spews a colorful array of cuss words. Perfectly aware of ‘slut’ in Italian, I hang up.
Not a second later my phone rings in my hand. “What, Santino? And if you’re not getting the picture, this is entertaining. I have shit else to do tonight.”God, Gina, TMI.
“My mother is—”
“I’m blocking you. Bye, Santino . . .” An unfamiliar sting pricks my eyes as I hang up. Images float through my mind of the way he looked at me and smiled. Damn, I’ve already grown addicted to that feeling. Magic surrounded us as he’d carried me over 1.3 miles to his apartment! Yeah, I mapped it later!
Finger hovering over the ‘block’ button, I murmur, “Why me?”
The term ‘settling’ sounds mighty pleasing right now. I could be married, anticipating my first child, had I said ‘yes’ to the first and only guy who asked me. I was straight out of college then; not even a year of grad school under my belt.
A notification comes in. Reluctantly, I read the text aloud. “Watch the video, Bella.”
Cocking a brow, I mumble, “What video?”
As if on key, the stream of text messages loads again. There’s a still shot of Santino, with an old lady. I know that thin eyebrow! That’s the woman who just denied him and designated “Antonia” as another synonym for whore.
I arch a brow.
“Hmmm, is his mother racist?”What game is he playing? Who forgets they have a son . . .?As soon as thought, I cease from my paranoid antics. The video begins. I start watching something that breaks my heart in half.Damn, Gina, you are way too suspicious!
On the video: Light pink roses are on tables with matching linen. Santino’s mother has walked into the middle of a convention room. At her sides are two old ladies, similar in age. While the two ladies who escorted her inside feign shock, her expression is sweet and priceless. She asks why all the lovely people are there, and Santino’s telling his mother how she’s 70 years old today.
