Gorilla Beach (30 page)

She kept ten paces behind him as he walked deeper into the club, his motorcyle helmet under his arm. He slowed, reacting to the burst of light in the main room and taking in the buzzing hive of activity.

“Tanner?” asked Will. He'd spotted the familiar face behind the bar.

“Bro,” said Tanner, busy stocking and cleaning up the space. “Welcome to Venus. You know Jim, right?”

Will nodded at Jim, also behind the bar at Venus. Bella hadn't realized they all knew each other, but it made sense. AC, for locals, was probably just as small as Seaside. Tanner caught Bella's eye and glanced at her funny. She waved him off, letting him know she didn't want Tanner to acknowledge her or call attention to her. She wanted to watch Will take it all in, without his seeing her yet. He might leave if he knew she'd hired him. Maybe if he saw all the familiar faces first, he'd be more likely to stay.

Bella watched as Will noticed the DJ on the stage platform, setting up her gear. “Koko?”

She waved at him. “Hey, Will! Haven't seen you since my last reading at Madame Olga's.”

“I thought you were at Providence.”

That was where Gia and Bella had met DJ Koko, that amazing night when Bella and Will kissed for the first time. Gia and Koko had bonded, doing shots during her break. She was one of Gia's first calls. Another was to their Nero's housekeeper Lucy Garcia, who was, at the moment, polishing the dance floor.

Of freakin' course, Will knew her, too. Bella watched them hug. Lucy later told Bella that Will had done a portrait of her three daughters last year and refused to let her pay for it. In exchange, she cleaned Madame Olga's booth once a week.

Apparently, Will also knew Maggie, a former waitress at Morton's. Bella had seen her jogging on the boardwalk every day, and they had, a few times, run together. Maggie confided to Bella that
she was bored at work and wanted to try something different. Maggie agreed to come to Venus, at least temporarily. She waved at Will from where she was cleaning the back booths.

Bella watched Will come to a complete stop in the middle of the room when a big man, built like a manatee, in a black T-shirt with the words
VENUS SECURITY
printed on it, came toward him. But then Will said, “Juan!” They fist-bumped a greeting. “So weird to see you without a rickshaw on the boardwalk, man. What's the deal here? It's like AC tipped over and spilled into this club.”

A great visual. Of course, Will saw things that way.

Juan, who hardly ever talked, said, “It's not Seaside. It's the twilight zone.”

“I'm looking for Erin Gobraugh,” said Will.

Juan caught Bella's eye, too, but she shook her head and mouthed,
No
. He shrugged and pointed Will toward the offices in back.

“Thanks,” said Will.

But Erin was already walking toward him. Bella could see from his body language that he recognized her, too. He had to be putting the pieces together by now. If he was, though, he didn't say anything to Erin.

Barely glancing at Bella behind him, Erin said to Will, “Mr. Lugano?” He nodded. “Thanks for coming on such short notice. Come this way to the office to meet the other partners.”

He followed her, and Bella followed them. Erin installed Will in the office, alone. The redhead closed the door and came over to Bella.

“He's all yours,” said Erin.

“Not necessarily.”

Bella's moment of truth was upon her; she felt the nerves kick in. What would she say to him? Would he feel cornered? Taking a deep breath, Bella turned the office doorknob and went in.

He was leaning against the wall. When she came in, he dropped the bike helmet. She walked behind the desk.

“Have a seat,” she said.

He sank into the chair opposite. “Bella,” he said the name like a prayer. “You're a partner in a club? How'd that happen?”

“One of life's curveballs.”

“Are all these people out there from AC?”

“Gia makes fast friends. It's either her personality or her big tips.”

He nodded. “Are they getting big bucks, too? They must be, or why leave regular gigs in AC on such short notice otherwise. Good for them. Good on you and your partners for paying people what they deserve.”

Bella smiled, but her heart was pounding. Just being near him made her pulse race. Was he reacting the same way? She couldn't tell. “Let's talk about supplies,” she said. “There's a hardware store on Route 37. You can take Erin's car to get paint, canvases, whatever you need. Fredo can help carry stuff, but if you need—”

“I don't deserve this.”

“You're a great artist. You should have jobs like this every week.”

“I don't mean the job. I mean, your letting me back into your life. That night, I saw you in another man's arms, and my heart exploded like a hand grenade. I overreacted and then I acted like a punk.”

“You think Picasso ever overreacted?”

“He was a jealous maniac,” said Will.

“Artists are passionate.”

“You can't let me off for shitty behavior that easy.”

“Who said I was letting you off?”

He bit his lip. “I'd never presume …”

“What's with the hair?” she asked, daring to make direct eye contact and to see up close how he'd changed. “No spikes? No eyeliner?” His naked face was sweet, vulnerable—but strong, too. It was a sign of strength, Bella realized, for him to show himself to the world. Will was done hiding behind the punk mask.

He paused. “I'm trying something new.”

“I like it. It's you. The real you.”

“Of course you understand. I knew you would. I wanted to show you the real me from the beginning, but I was afraid. I've been running scared for a long time, Bella. And then I met you. Right from that first moment at the wedding, I've felt an intense desire to live another way, to think another way. I want to be more trusting and optimistic like you. Our breakup pushed me over to the other side. The world isn't shutting me out. I've been keeping myself out. Breaking up with you was the last act of self-sabotage I will ever commit.”

His words quieted her nerves. She believed him completely and was humbled by his revelation. Bella felt her heart expand. This was more than physical attraction. Her influence had changed him for the better. She'd inspired his life, not only his art. And he'd inspired her right back to look deeper at the reasons people in love pushed others away. Bella found it in her heart to forgive.

“It's awful I had to lose you to gain insight into myself,” said Will. “Glad as I am to have it, I am so freakin' sorry about what happened, Bella. I haven't stopped thinking about you for a minute. I hope we can be friends.”

“Friends? Fuck that.”

She came around the desk. He met her halfway, and they fell into a hot kiss. Breaking apart, she said, “Just so you know, this is how guidettes say, ‘You're forgiven.'”

Gia stepped out of
the shower in the bungalow, dripping wet. She was supposed to be at the club with everyone else, but the dogs needed to be walked. After their beach tour, Gia got sweaty and decided to rinse off.

She padded back to her bedroom—the same room she'd lived in last summer with the porthole, round window, and ocean view—to get dressed. But she stopped short (no pun intended) when she saw a man in her room, pawing through the dresser.

“Stanley! Get away from there! What is it with guidos and panty drawers?”

“Gia?” He turned around and instantly lowered his eyes. “Damn, woman! Put on some clothes.”

She was wearing a hand towel. She slipped on her leopard-print robe. “What're you doing here?”

“It's my friggin' house! I don't need a reason to be in my own place. But if you have to know, I came for socks. Maria kicked me out without letting me pack a bag.” Softer, he asked, “Have you seen her? Is she still pissed off?”

“Do you even know why she's upset?”

“She's crazy! How am I supposed to know what goes on in her head?”

“You think you're upset now. Have you checked your joint savings account today?”

Stanley turned white. “What?”

“Maria's opening a new business. I can't tell you what it is yet. Calm down, Stanley. I know the idea of spending one penny makes you hyperventilate. But she needs to work, and it's a good investment.”

Stanley's face turned strawberry-daiquiri red. “I feel dizzy. I need to sit.” Falling on Gia's bed, he moaned, “How can Maria
do
this to me? She treats me like garbage. She spends all my money. I'm dying, here. I'm losing my hair.”

“Since you only had one hair to begin with, it's not such a loss. I need a favor. If you help me, I can help you with Maria. She still loves you. But she doesn't think you love the real her.”

“Who kicked me out? The real Maria or the
fugazi
? 'Cause one of them almost broke my nose.”

“It's not like it was so great to begin with. Now,
as I was saying
… you have friends all over Jersey, right? I need you to locate a kid. I met him in Atlantic City. He's holding some money for me.”

That got Stanley's attention. “What's the story?”

Gia filled him in about Arthur Ponzirelli.

“Man, you got played,” he said, shaking his head. “Suckered by a pretty face. Why am I not surprised?”

“Are you gonna help me or make me feel worse?”

Stanley considered her proposition. “Okay, Gia. I'll take fifty percent of whatever you get back, after I find him.”

“Make it thirty percent and we have a deal.” Fredo wouldn't be happy about that. But third of whatever was more than a third of nothing. The new math?

“Give me the details again,” Stanley said. “Tell me everything about this douche bag you know is true.”

“He's twenty-seven and grew up in Hoboken. He hates pickles
and might have a medical history of panic attacks and hot-pepper-related fainting. My gut tells me his first name really is Arthur. His father was the maître d' at the Clam Dungeon in Hoboken. He might have a good friend or ex who's an orthodontist.”

Stanley nodded. “Give me a few days.”

Twelve hours later …

Gia gave Pretzel a bath in the club's bar sink. The puppy had had a little accident, then slipped on her tiny legs and landed in the poopie. Poor baby. Gia was using the sink's spray nozzle when she heard her Kaskade ringtone. Hands full of sudsy wiener dog, she fumbled to answer the phone, holding it against her ear with her shoulder.

“Found him,” said Stanley.

“You rock.”

“I called a business associate in North Jersey. This kid—Arthur Sanders—is semifamous in certain circles. He's also wanted by Hoboken PD, so if you do find him, you got leverage.”

“Sanders? That does
not
end in a vowel. Unless
s
is a vowel?”

“It's not. It
is
the symbol for cash, though. There's a reward out for his arrest. Two grand.”

“That prick,” whined Gia. He was wanted by the cops? On top of lying about being a guido, he'd done crimes? She felt a rush of dread. Had she almost smushed with a … “What'd he do?”

“Nonviolent cons. He scammed an old lady out of her life savings. My friend pointed me toward Arthur's mother, who moved from Hoboken to Belmar when her husband, the restaurateur, died ten years ago. Very nice lady. Kind of batty, and nearly deaf. I called her and said I was an old friend of Artie's from Hoboken High. Asked if she'd seen him recently. Turned out, he'd been by her place the day before. Bought her a new chair and a TV.”

“He's in Belmar?” asked Gia. “That's, like, twenty minutes away.”

“Mom said he's planning on taking a trip, a long one, out of the country. He's leaving in a few days.”

“No shit!” Pretzel looked sad. “Not you, baby.”

“Sanders hangs out in Belmar at a bar called the Four Leaf Clover. Want me to pick him up?”

Gia's skin buzzed with anticipation. She'd
love
to have Stanley send in the goon squad. “I've got a better idea. Thanks, Stanley. Truly, you're a rock star. A porn star!”

“I take cash or personal check. And tell Maria I'm moving back in, whether she likes it or not. I need access to clean socks. My feet stink.”

“So buy some at Rite Aid.”

“I'm not buying new socks when I have drawer full of them at home! You know how much socks cost?”

“Like five bucks for a dozen?”

“Exactly,” he said. “I'm not made of money, you know.”

She hung up, then dialed a number she hadn't called in months.

“Frank Rossi,” he said, answering with his first and last name like he worked in a freakin' insurance company and not the fire-house.

“It's Gia. You still babysitting Cara?”

He paused. “We broke up.”

“What happened? Got sick of sleeping with Huggies pull ups and a night-light?”

“She was pissed I didn't put a dollar under her pillow when her baby tooth fell out.”

Gia gagged. “Seriously?”

“No, but she did order off the children's menu at Luna Rosa. Embarrassing.”

Pause. “Yeah, well, the reason I'm calling is that I need a favor. You cheated on me with Cara, and you lied to my face about it. I'll be mad at you for the rest of your life, or we can neutral it right now.”

“Okay. What do you want me to do?”

“Another employee quit?”
Mr. Violenti roared to his underling. “That's four people in the last three days!” He'd been enjoying a peaceful moment, feeding his gators a whole roaster chicken and watching them tear it apart.