“You better call him and stop him.” Nora stomps out of the office, calling me a couple of filthy names before slamming the door behind her.
I sit in my chair with a heavy sigh, embracing the silence and looking over the broken glass on the floor. She’s right to call me names. Maybe I should have told her what was happening before it all went down, but I knew what she would try to do. She’d try to talk me out of it, and I’ve always had a soft spot for Nora, even if she is a year older than I am. I’d start second-guessing my decisions, and that is no way to run this family.
“Priorities,” I mumble quietly to myself.
I grab my phone and tap the screen.
“Yes, Mr. Orso?”
“Andrea, can you come in here please? There’s a bit of a mess.”
“Of course, Mr. Orso.”
Andrea appears a few seconds later and immediately begins to clean up the glass. Her blonde hair swirls around her shoulders as she bops from one part of the room to another, cleaning up the glass and muttering to herself. She places the broken ashtray in the trashcan and then immediately begins to disinfect every surface in the room. Once everything is wiped down, she rushes out and returns with a new ashtray and a steam cleaner for the carpet.
“It was only glass,” I tell her.
“You can never be too careful,” Andrea replies. “Germs are everywhere, and I don’t want any of you kids getting sick on top of everything else you’ve been through.”
My phone dings.
Threes: I gotta fish this body out of the lake?
I can’t help but grin as I reply with a yes, and he responds with an emoji of a head exploding.
The whole marriage thing is going to be a problem. I have exactly zero prospects, and though Nora is quick to fall in love, I’m not going to put her through all that again. She’s right—she needs time, and I’m going to give it to her. Her own boredom is likely to make her stick her nose in the business, and that isn’t going to be helpful to me. Maybe if I come up with a woman for myself, she could end up being Nora’s pet project and give my sister somewhere to focus her energy. How long will it take for me to find someone? A week? A month? How long does it take to find the right woman and convince her to fall madly in love with me? Where do I even start?
I have no idea.
Chapter 6—Big O
I step out of the car and hand my keys to the valet.
“I’ll take good care of her, sir!”
I hand him a twenty. When he thanks me, I give him a dismissive wave as I walk casually past the short line to the club’s entrance. I know he’s going to take care of my car. He knows the consequences of not doing so.
Ah, the club. The Big O. My club.
My father hated the very idea of having such a place in our collection of business ventures, but he needs to get over himself and his generation. Not only is the Big O a great source of legitimate funds, it’s also the perfect place to conduct illicit business, launder money, and have a damn good time.
The line isn’t very long for a Friday night, and I grit my teeth as I pass all the scantily clad women and leather-clad guys waiting to get in. I hear a few of them call my name and wave as I move to the front. Before I can get there, Threes moves up to me.
“What’s up, Threes?”
“Just some fucking crazy trying to get in.”
“Who?”
“Fuck if I know. Never seen him before. Better go in around back either way.”
I look over to see Reynolds, the bouncer, arguing with a would-be patron who’s holding a large, female blow-up doll.
“You can’t bring that in here,” Reynolds says firmly.
“I get five bucks off the cover charge if I bring a date!”
“She ain’t no fucking date, bro!” Reynolds puts his hand on the guy’s shoulder to keep him from moving forward. “The cover is ten each! Ya only get five off a date on Saturdays when a band is playing!”
“This is Monica! She’s my homegirl! I can’t leave my homegirl in the car, dammit! I got thirty-five right here!”
“I already told ya it’s ten each! And you are not bringing her in here!”
“I have to!” The desperation in his voice actually manages to reach an even higher level. I mean, how hard up does a guy have to be to bring a plastic date?
Reynolds folds his arms across his broad chest and narrows his eyes.
“You let the air out, and you can come in.”
“What? I can’t do that! She’s my homegirl!”
“Homegirl gotta go flat if you want in.”
Threes chokes on his own laughter, and I have to bite my lip to keep my own burst inside.
“No!” the guy cries out. He looks longingly at Monica the sex doll. “She spent hours getting ready. She’ll be sad.”
“Homegirl gotta go flat,” Reynolds repeats.
I have no idea how he’s doing this with a straight face. Threes grabs me by the elbow and leads me toward the back entrance as Reynolds continues to argue with the “couple.”
“What a whack job.” Threes lets out a low whistle and then laughs heartily.
“Yeah, that can’t be good for business.”
“His money is still good,” Threes says with a shrug. “He’ll probably pay the whole thirty-five and then be thrown out within the first twenty minutes anyway.”
“I don’t need that kind of commotion tonight.”
“You never know, boss.”
