Filed to story: The Mafia Boss’s Regret (Ava & Dante)
“What do you mean?”
“I would bet my entire costume collection they’ve slept together.”
My eyes widened. “Really?”
“Yep,” she said, wiping the island down.
My sister was usually quiet, blending into the background at parties and events, but that only made her skilled at reading people-when she took the time or cared about doing it, anyway. She was probably right. How very… blasphemous. Though, I wouldn’t have expected much else from the boss.
I hopped off my chair, headed to the pot on the stove, and tasted a little from the wooden spoon. Bitterness exploded in my mouth. “Wow, that’s, um…”
Lydia laughed while struggling to reach a cup on the top shelf. She hopped and growled when she still couldn’t get it. She turned around, giving up, her gaze narrowed.
“Benito and Dominic are downstairs,” I told her. “They’re probably hungry.”
“Why would I care-?” She paused. Understanding filled her eyes and then she pushed off the counter. “I’ll go tell them lunch is ready.”
Red and orange streetlights blurred beyond the drips of rain running down the glass. The sky was dark, pretending to be night when it was only six o’clock on a summer’s day.
Benito’s phone flashed and buzzed in the console, again. Ironically enough, Benito reminded me of Manny Ribera from Scarface, in looks and personality. I could count on him flirting with at least one woman everywhere we went, like clockwork.
“Read it, Ava.”
“No,” I protested. “The last time I did that I saw something I didn’t want to see.”
“Then don’t bitch at me for checking it.”
Ugh. I reached forward and read it. “From ‘Blonde Angela.'” I didn’t blink twice to see that he had to mark his female contacts by more than their names, probably because there were simply too many. He wouldn’t want to mix them up. “I don’t want to see you anymore,” I read blandly and set the phone back in the console before a “goodbye” picture could be received.
His brows furrowed with one hand on the wheel. He wore black pants and a white dress shirt, no tie. It was a casual day for him. There was a high possibility he took longer than me to get ready in the mornings.
Mamma and Papà had a dinner planned with one of my father’s connections, and I’d told Nonna not to worry about coming because of the rain falling like it never had before. So, it was just Benito and me, and he would only drop me off like he usually did, before driving to whatever girl’s house in the meantime. Not Angela’s now, though.
My cousin sighed and ran a hand through his dark, gelled-back hair. “As a woman, Ava, how would you interpret that text?”
I paused. “Well, I think it means she doesn’t want to see you anymore.”
“And that includes sex?”
“Yep.”
He frowned. “Dammit.”
“Double-Ds?”
“Yeah,” he said sadly.
I copied his tone. “Shame.”
He pulled up to the curb outside the theater, reached across me, and pushed the door open. “Go kill it, cuz. Be back at nine.”
“Thanks.” I hopped out of the car and grabbed my duffel bag from the backseat.
“Ava.” Benito’s expression was serious as he leaned over and stretched his arm across the passenger seat headrest. “You think her text applies to oral, too?”
I rolled my eyes. “God, you’re disgusting.”
He grinned. “Break a leg!”
With my bag over my shoulder, I headed inside and said hello to a few other dancers on the way. It wasn’t a large theater, but it was upscale-like my papà would ever allow me to dance in a hole in the wall. Sparkling lights, cream walls, and gold and red accents. It was a beautiful auditorium. I loved the flash of it all: the makeup, the dress, the friendships I’d gained-as shallow as they were-but for me, dance was merely a great form of exercise. The small amount of passion I’d once held for it was fading away, and I wasn’t sure how long I’d continue with it.
A brush of air rushed over me, followed by a deep voice. “Say you’ll go out with me.”
Without looking at the man matching my steps, I shook my head, a smile pulling on my lips. “No.”
“Sushi?”
I wrinkled my nose.
“Okay, no sushi. Italian?”
“Ha ha,” I laughed.
“Are you coming tomorrow?”
Tyler was lean, like most dancers were, with dirty blond hair and a crooked smile. He was cute, polite, but not my type. He was a friend who wanted more, and for his sake I’d never let anything happen. I’d learned my lesson.
Sometimes I wondered how he would react if I told him the truth about my family. I doubted he’d still ask me out every time he saw me. Anyone could put together who my papà was if they merely Googled his name. My classmates at the all-girls school I’d attended had found out early on, and I’d practically been a pariah. Lydia had made lots of friends in her drama circle, but I never found the same.
“Yeah, I’m coming,” I said. “I’m bringing my cousin, if that’s okay.”
“Oh, yeah. That Benito. Your family aware women don’t need a chaperone anymore?”
I smiled. “They’re aware. They just don’t care.”
Chatter grew louder as we reached backstage where ten or so other dancers congregated.
“Last offer,” he said firmly. “Cheeseburgers. Bring Benito with you. We’ll make it a threesome.”
I laughed. “I don’t think he’s into guys.”
It was his turn for a “Ha ha,” as we parted ways.
I LEANED AGAINST THE ALLEY door, the metal hard and cold against my back. Mist fell, mixing with the sweat dripping down my bare midsection. Tire noise, sirens, and an occasional laugh from a close bar filtered into the alleyway.
“You’ve got the right idea.” Sierra stepped outside and pulled her blond hair off her sweaty face and into a bun.