Embarrassment crawled up my neck. I’d known Toni all my life, but hearing her talk this easily about Savio’s privates was still too much. “Why a bull?” And why right there?
Toni made a face. “What do you think? Savio’s the cockiest guy on this planet. Or to quote the girls I overheard in the Arena: he’s like a freaking animal in the bed. The best ride of my life!” Toni even imitated the high-pitched voice of the girl and added a Yeehaaw for good measure.
I let out an uncertain laugh. The idea of a girl talking about riding Savio made me furious, and at the same time, had me worried. Everyone knew Savio’s track record with girls. How was I ever going to compare to them?
Toni shoved my shoulder. “Stop looking so glum. Savio Falcone agreed to fight in the cage for your hand. Isn’t that what you’ve been hoping for?”
It was. Even if I’d wished he’d made up his mind sooner to spare Mick and me the drama, I had to admit that I was excited about the fight. It was the first time I was allowed to see an actual cage fight by a Falcone. Dad could hardly refuse to let me see the fight that determined my future.
“Will you get engaged right away?”
I shrugged. I wasn’t sure how things would be handled with Savio. Mick and my engagement would have taken place in a couple of months, probably in a big feast. “I don’t know. Before yesterday, Savio never once talked about marriage with me.”
“I can’t imagine Savio as a husband. Do you really think he can be faithful? He changes girls as often as his underwear.”
“He’d better be. I won’t tolerate infidelity.”
Toni looked doubtful. “I’m sure once you’re married, he’ll behave… but I don’t think he’ll give up his man-whoring ways before he gets it from you.”
“He won’t get anything before we’re married,” I muttered.
Toni gave me a look. She’d never understood our traditions.
I tugged at my curls. Why was I so nervous? It wasn’t me who had to fight, and I wasn’t worried about the outcome of the fight either. Savio would win. Mick stood absolutely no chance against him, even if Savio had fought in the cage against a strong opponent only yesterday.
A knock sounded and Mom poked her head in, taking in my outfit. I had insisted to choose what I wore today. I knew I’d be the center of attention, even if it wasn’t a public fight in the Arena. Only other Camorrista and the involved families were allowed to attend.
I’d chosen a dress because even on a day like this, jeans wouldn’t fly with Mom or Dad, but it was the least modest I owned, hugging my waist and chest, but ending in a flowing skirt that reached my knees. I’d even straightened my natural curls, only to turn them into more controlled, shiny curls with my curling iron.
“You look beautiful, love,” Mom said as she walked in and hugged me. “Two men fighting over you, it’s something else…”
I laughed dryly. “Yeah.”
If word got out, and word would get out at some point, the stares in school would increase tenfold.
“Just promise me to keep an open mind for either outcome.”
Mom didn’t know anything about fighting, or Savio. There was only one realistic outcome. I nodded anyway.
“We need to go,” Dad called.
Mom kissed my cheek. “Have fun.”
“You’re not coming?”
She touched her belly with an apologetic smile. “You know how queasy I get with blood, and the hormones only make it worse.”
“Gemma! We’re going to be late!” Diego shouted.
I kissed Mom’s cheek, grabbed my purse and rushed downstairs where Dad, Diego, and Nonna were waiting for me. Surprise shot through me.
“Don’t look so shocked, bambina,” Nonna said with a rough laugh. She’d been smoking in secret ever since Grandpa’s death and it was unmistakable.
“Are you sure you can handle it?” I asked.
“Your nonna is made of steel,” Dad said, touching her shoulder.
Diego and Dad sat in the front, while Nonna and I shared the backseat. She took my hand during the drive. I knew she probably favored Mick because his family was more traditional, but I was glad for her support.
Roger’s Arena was more crowded than I’d thought it’d be. Dozens of eyes followed me as my family and I headed for one of the booths close to the fighting cage.
Toni hurried our way, smiling. She pulled me into a tight embrace. “You look like you want to run,” she whispered before she released me.
Part of me wanted to run away, but the other, bigger part longed to see Savio’s fight.
“Do you have to work?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Dad hired two new waitresses, so I can watch the fight with you.” She turned to my family. “Hello, Mrs. Bazzoli, Daniele, Diego.” Her eyes halted on my brother and for once, he didn’t look like she was a fly he wanted to swat away. Toni was eye-catching with her long straight brown hair and those huge brown eyes, not to mention her tall, willowy model figure.
We all slipped into the booth.
Remo stepped out of the changing room and silence fell over the bar. “The fight begins in five minutes.” He didn’t say more, didn’t explain, only briefly nodded toward my father then toward Mick’s family who sat on the other side of the Arena.
Mick was the first who came out of the changing room. I’d never seen him in anything but street clothes. Now he wore only fighting shorts and flip-flops. Maybe he was worried about touching the floor with his bare feet. He wasn’t very tanned, his Italian heritage definitely less prominent than with me, and tall and lanky with only the hint of lean muscle. A small scar marred his left arm and the Camorra tattoo flashed on his other. His eyes found me.
I didn’t look away.
