Shifting tack, John says, “Would it kill you to wear a fucking suit for once in your life?”
I sometimes wish that John could see what an ass he’s making of himself, but in the end, to me, it’s water off a duck’s back.
“You know damn fucking well I got suits coming out of my asshole. I just know how to dress appropriately is all.” The waitress brings my beer at last. “I’m here to relax and kick back. Get a drink with my two favorite asshole brothers. Even though all they want to do is bust my balls.”
“Well,” John says, “that’s because you need it.”
“No,” I smile, shaking my head, relaxing now. “It’s because while I may be the baby of the family, you two really are a pair of children.”
After a couple of beers, I leave them and head for the casino floor. I want to play the wheel.
Chapter Two
Giulietta
This evening I’m dancing, moving to the beat even longer than usual. I keep going almost until I’m exhausted. Tonight, today, I really need something to happen. And I feel like something will.
I feel like I’m dancing for an audience. Not that I would ever dance that well, but the feeling is magical with bursts of thrills as I move. I imagine eyes, a pair of eyes that glide and lap all over my body. I’m carried on the beat of the music. It rolls and turns like a wave, spinning patterns, driving my body. Setting my feelings free, leaving my thoughts behind.
I feel empty when I stop. Not that I have anything to complain about. My life is good. Better than good. My family is rich and powerful. I want for nothing. But I’m stifled. I’m not challenged. I’m bored and unfulfilled.
I decide I’ll go downtown to play some roulette. On my way out, I see Angelo left his laptop open. We have a lot of rules in the family. One is if you don’t want something seen, don’t leave it out in the light. If someone finds your secrets, it’s on you for not taking more care of them.
On the screen, a spreadsheet tells a horror story. Financial data, going back about five years, is the blow-by blow picture of a business drowning.
My brother Giovanni smiles when he finds me reading the screen.
“It’s cute that you put in all the effort,” he says. “Plowing through stuff like that.”
“I love spreadsheets,” I tell him. “Math. Numbers. Stats. It’s like magic. Music is all math, you know.” I was the only one in my class with a double major in music and accountancy.
Giovanni gives me his indulgent smile. “Why worry about any of that? You’ll get married. Probably soon. Your husband will be rich enough to give you everything you need.”
Angelo walks in, smiling. “And he’ll make you happy, caro.” He comes to stroke my hair. My mouth tightens as I duck away.
“Of course,” Giovanni says, “because he’ll know that if he doesn’t, we’ll break his legs.”
I try not to scowl at them, but I’m annoyed. I saw a business opportunity in the figures. But they don’t want to hear about it. Not from me. I know they love me and they care about me, but they treat me more like a pet than a member of the family. I’m tired of it.
I stand. “I’m going out.”
Angelo says, “We’re going to the Strip. Come with us.”
“I want to go downtown. I want the old Vegas vibe.”
Giovanni is the eldest. He always acts like the decider. “We’ll take you to the Strip. It’s better. Classier.” He gives me his big brother smile. “You’ll want to change. Don’t be too long.”
“No, I’m ready.” I put my hands on my hips, hoping they’ll give it up and let me go out separately.
Angelo says, “Please, caro. Don’t be like that. We have an image to keep up.”
“You do. I’m just decoration. So take me as I am, or let me go where I want.”
In the limo, I tell Giovanni and Angelo I want to be left alone at the casino to play roulette. Meaning I don’t want to be surrounded by guards. Massimo and Bruno are good guys and their team is the best, but Drago is another matter. And they all make it impossible for me to relax.
Angelo says, “You have to stay safe.”
“You have to stay a virgin, too.”
I hate Giovanni saying that. I feel like livestock, like a piece of meat.
In the Life, that’s what women are. We’re a commodity. Tradable, with a value like a roulette chip. When the chip is in the right place, its value rises. And that’s when she’ll be traded. Or sold.
I’m about as resigned as I can be to the idea. Someday I’ll swap the tyranny of my brothers and my father – just the thought of Daddy causes a chill in my spine – and I’ll be part of a deal, like a medieval princess married into another family.
I’ve never met a man I wanted to give my virginity up to, and I’ve considered how it would be with a man I didn’t care for. I only ever saw one man I did care for, and I didn’t even get to meet him.
It was my seventeenth birthday. Those pale blue eyes. Dazzled by the reflection of sunlight on the water, those eyes were all I saw. With a look, he reached inside me. Took hold of my heart.
All I knew was his shape in his perfect suit. And his size – he was huge.
The family goons circled around me. Drago, the ugly, sadistic man-mountain, stood in front of him.
What I would give for a man to look at me like that, make me feel like that again. But that’s not my fate. As Giovanni says, I’ll be married off. Soon, by the sound of what he said.
I still think of those eyes when I’m alone. When I’m in bed, or sometimes in the shower.
At the casino, they still want to control me. The driver pulls up at the grand entrance and a doorman steps up to open the limo door. Giovanni says, “Come with us. Join the poker tables. You’re a good player.”
“You don’t want my loose jeans and white tee-shirt look dragging your image down.”
Giovanni waves to Massimo in the SUV that followed us. At least Drago isn’t on duty tonight, but I don’t want any of them near me. Angelo is about to speak, but I’m determined.
“I’m here to have fun and play roulette. I’m not going to sit in a room with a lot of men making alpha grunts at one another.” Stepping out of the car, I say, “As you say, Giovanni, I’ll be married off soon enough,” and I skip away. “You have fun your way. I’ll see you later. Or tomorrow.”
“Caro!” Angelo calls after me. I hear the resignation in his voice and don’t stop. They won’t admit it, but they’ll be secretly relieved that I’m not in the VIP poker room with them.
I always beat them.
Through the merry bloops and babble of the slots, I find a friendly table. Medium stake limits and not too many players. Nobody here is too serious, everyone is just having fun. Nice-looking females, most of them about my age, and a few men. The men are definitely here for Andrea, the dealer. A gorgeous redhead, she flashes her eyes and an occasional naughty smile.
A croupier’s job has always appealed to me. Combining fast calculation with easy chat seems like something I would enjoy.