Gorilla Beach (32 page)

Everything he did, she came back at him with the guilt. That was why he hardly visited. She pecked at him, peck, peck, peck, until he had to get away or let her tear him to pieces. He had to get out of town soon anyway. An old friend told him some goombah was asking around about him in Hoboken—a bad sign. He should be on a plane to the Bahamas already.

In his career as a gigolo grifter, Arthur had ripped off retired grandmas, lonely divorcées, merry widows. Sometimes he had regrets about his work. Even though he saw it as a free-market exchange, on some level he knew it wasn't right to trade sex for gifts. If he'd been successful at any other profession, he wouldn't be in
the oldest one. Charming women was the only area where Arthur truly shone.

His latest con, however, went beyond minor regret. It'd left a bad taste of pickle, cotton candy, and shame in his mouth. Gia wasn't his usual mark. And she hadn't treated him like a beefcakeflavored chew toy, either. She'd treated him as an equal. She was so generous with her money. If he'd asked for the safe's contents, she would probably have given it to him. She'd been good to him all around, including riding with him in the ambulance and going to the hospital. Then again, she was the one who put him there. Regardless, he was a little bit in love with her. Maybe a lot in love.

Whatever. His feelings didn't matter. He couldn't undo what he'd done. It would have been the perfect crime except for the nagging tug of doubt. Could he and Gia have had a real relationship? Lived a straight life? If he put his mind to it, Arthur could get a real job, work as an actor, or a model. Then again, if he put his face out there, every woman he'd swindled would come out of the woodwork. No, the smart move was to get out of the country and try his luck on vacationing desperadoes in the Caribbean.

Jingle
. The door of the bar opened.

A woman draped in a lynx coat with diamond jewelry on her neck, wrists, and ears came in followed by a huge dude in a black tank top, black jeans, and deep tan. A gorilla juicehead, as Gia would say. The woman was older, around fifty, but she was slick and put together, with straight black hair and bangs, face and neck skin tight (probably from face-lifts), and intense blue eyes.

“Forget it, Frankie,” said the woman to her much younger boyfriend. “I'm done with you.”

“Please, Donna. I'll do anything. Just one more chance.” He was begging, but he seemed stiff, embarrassed. Fake? Or just awkward about being dumped in a public place?

The woman, Donna, didn't seem embarrassed. She was enjoying making a scene. “I told you, Frankie, that if you weren't willing
to do … what I needed you to do, there was no point in our being friends. Just leave me alone, wouldya?”

“But I care about you.”

Ha! Arthur didn't believe that for a second.

Donna said, “I'm not interested in your feelings. Now leave me alone, before I get mad.”

Head hanging on massive muscled shoulders, the kid shuffled out of the Four Leaf Clover. Donna yelled, “Bartender! Prosecco, please.”

“On me,” said Arthur. “If that's all right with you.”

She turned toward him, and he could see the doorknob-size diamond pendant around her neck. This woman stank of green. And, apparently, she liked her men young.

Arthur said, “If you don't mind my saying, you are an extraordinarily beautiful woman.”

“Slow down, Romeo.” Her voice was throaty, sexy. “Don't worry. I'm flattered. A young man like you, noticing me?”

“Well, you did make a dramatic entrance. If you don't mind my saying, that kid isn't good enough for you.” Holding out his hand, he added, “I'm Ponzi.”

“Donna,” she said, shaking his hand. He didn't let her go for three seconds too long. He was frozen, like a deer in headlights, by the size of her ring. He could retire with that beauty.

The bartender brought her wine. Arthur put a twenty on the bar. “Keep the change.” If he weren't softening the mark, he wouldn't leave a penny behind on the bar.

He raised his beer bottle. They toasted and drank. Before he could continue his usual patter of polite flattery, the mark's expression changed.

“I'm so embarrassed,” she confided. “I should have ended it with Frankie in private, but he kept following me around. Ever since my fantastically rich husband died and left me all of his money, young men like Frankie are suddenly attracted to me.”

“You are a gorgeous, sexy woman.”

“That's what Frankie said, too.” She laughed, throaty and deep. “Look, I know what's what. I'm down with … whatever a young man like you would find appealing about me. It's just that I like variety, okay? I won't have anyone falling in love with me and making emotional demands.”

Arthur blinked in shock. He'd never before met a woman who was so direct. Ordinarily he'd be suspicious. But, given his urgent need to round up quick cash and get out of the country, he'd go with it. Donna liked variety? Fine. He'd milk the MILF until she got bored of him. One week with her might be enough to get him in the air.

Donna finished her wine and checked her diamond-studded gold watch. “I've got to go. It's been nice meeting you, Ponzi.”

She was leaving? So soon? “We're just getting to know each other,” he said, a little panicked.

She looked him over slowly. “I'm having a little party with a bunch of my girlfriends. It's informal. Just come as you are. My friends and I, we enjoy … games. Do you like to play
games
?” she asked, puckering her lips suggestively.

“I love games.”

“This game, it's sort of kinky. Sort of goth. It's an exclusive gathering in a secret room in the basement of a church.”

“What, like a cult thing?”

“You could say that.”

“Human sacrifices at the altar?” he asked, a little nervous.

“Nothing violent. Just some harmless …
games
.” She winked sexily.

Ponzi considered it. What the hell? It was one night. If he got creeped out, he'd leave. “I'd be honored to come, Donna.”

“Great.” She wrote down the time and place on a napkin—Thursday night in Seaside—and left. He could see her black Mercedes pulling out of the parking lot.

New Club Grand Opening!!!
Have a Shoregasm at VENUS!!!
DJ Koko Spins 9:00 PM to 3:00 AM!!!
Grand Mixer Tanner's Signature Cocktail, the Black Out, Only $6!!!
TUESDAY NIGHT! BRING THIS FLYER FOR ONE
FREE TEQUILA SHOT!!!

•  •  •

“Who wants to pass
out flyers?” asked Bella over breakfast.

“Me!” Gia was glad to do it. The frantic work inside the club and the overcrowding at Maria's bungalow was making her “claustropubic,” she said.

“Claustro
phobic,
” said Bella.

They were living together in the porthole-window bedroom at the bungalow. Tanner and Jim, Will, Erin, Fredo, and DJ Koko occupied the other bedrooms. The place also served as the off-site break house for Venus's AC commuters Lucy, Maggie, and Juan.

“It's like a college dorm,” said Bella. “Fighting for the bathroom. People eating each other's food. No privacy. No downtime. I can't believe I was resentful I didn't get to live like this at NYU!”

“And Maria is the twisted dorm mother,” said Gia. Sharing a
bedroom with Bella took Gia back to their family reunions when they were kids. They'd stay up all night with a flashlight, telling each other stories about the hottie husbands they'd have one day.

“You sure you don't mind passing out flyers?” asked Bella. “I'm helping Will with the finishing touches on the murals or I'd do it myself.”

The murals were spectacular. Gia especially loved the Venus with Gia's head, the sun god Apollo with Fredo's, Diana, moon goddess, with Erin's. Will had painted Jupiter and Juno, the king and queen of the gods, with his and Bella's heads. Maria's head appeared on the body of a creepy Cupid, flying all over the murals, arrows and bow in a quiver.

Tanner walked into the bungalow's kitchen, bare-chested in nylon shorts, and said, “Can I help, Gia? I'd love to hit the beach.”

Gia did a double take. He'd been yummy all along, but now Gia was seeing him with his shirt off for the first time. Holy cannoli, the kid was freakin' hot. He'd been loading and organizing the bar. A week's worth of hauling and lifting cases of booze had pumped his body to prime gorilla. She'd be thrilled to have him at her side today.

“Ready when you are,” said Gia. They sorted out puppy care. Bella would take Pretzel. Gia and Tanner had Kookah. They weren't two blocks along the boardwalk when Kookah slipped her rhinestone collar and took off like a shot after a seagull.

Gia screamed, “Come back!” She chased after the fluffy puppy, but lost sight of her almost immediately. “Help! I've lost my Kookah! Has anyone seen my Kookah? I need a bone for my Kookah!”

A pack of gorillas on the beach thought her cries were freakin' hilarious. In a different context, Gia would have laughed, too. But this was serious. The dog that saved her life was missing. Calling her name, running along the beach, Gia stopped to catch her breath under the pier, among the forest of wood pillars supporting it.

She looked up and saw a figure jogging toward her on the horizon.
It was Tanner, who'd sprinted after Kookah the second she broke free and gotten ahead of Gia in a flash.

“Got her.” Tanner held the naughty fur ball in his arms. “For such tiny legs, she's friggin' fast!”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Gia sang, cuddling the puppy and putting the collar back on, a notch tighter. Then Gia launched herself at Tanner and showered him with grateful kisses and a Guido Hug. One of her kisses landed on his lips.

“Finally!” he said. “All summer you've been giving me those frustrating cheek kisses. I'll rescue your dog again for another one.”

“What's your last name?”

“Aeillou.”

“Ends with a
u
? That's definitely a vowel.”

“My name has all
five
vowels, in alphabetical order.”

Gia's kookah, the one she carried with her wherever she went, felt suddenly unleashed. She fastened the dog's tether around one of the pier pilings and said, “Wanna cuddle?”

“What about the flyers?” Then, reconsidering, he said, “Fuck the flyers.”

Anyway, Gia had thrown her stack in the air when the dog took off. The wind would scatter them, doing their work for them.

While Gia and Tanner rolled around under the pier for a few hours, Kookah watching and digging in the sand happily, Gia realized that the guido she'd been looking for at Gorilla Beach had been right in front of her the whole time.

Opening night! So far,
everyone Gia had called or texted had shown up. Tony was here, fist-pumping with all his gym-rat friends. Giuseppe and Tina Troublino, Tony's grandparents, also showed up to wish Gia and Bella good luck. Frankie arrived with his brother and sister-in-law
and a bunch of off-duty firefighters. Donna Lupo came, along with ten of her closest bitches. Luigi Lupo was there, too, along with a dozen henchguidos straight out of central casting's open call for goombahs. DJ Koko cranked. Tanner mixed Black Outs (Kahlúa, vodka, and Red Bull) for a thirsty crowd. The partners had taken a vote and decided against VIP table service at Venus. Their club would be democratic, for the people. Everyone was equal upon stepping through the door. Just like their equal partnership.

Gia danced over to Maria's perch on a stool at the entrance to the club, checking IDs. “How many so far?”

The cougar checked her clicker. They had to keep track of how many people were inside. If they reached the maximum capacity of four hundred (it was a small club), they'd have to set up a waiting area on the street, which they hadn't yet gotten a permit for. Erin thought to apply for one. She knew all the ropes, the hoops, and how to jump through them. Fredo was right alongside her, greasing the right wheels in Seaside to make things happen.

Maria said, “We're up to two hundred already.” It was only 10:00 p.m.

“Why aren't you happy? You're back in biz, and it's a huge success!”

“I am happy. I'd be friggin' ecstatic if I didn't feel sick to my stomach. I must've had a bad oyster at lunch.”

“You've been feeling sick for days,” said Gia, concerned.

Maria waved it off. “I need a drink. Can you bring me a glass of milk?”

Gia blinked. “Did you say
milk
?”

“Make it a dirty milk with a shot of olive juice.”

“This is your cure for the pukes?”

“It sounds gross, I know,” said Maria. “I've been obsessed with it lately, though. Also ice cream and pickles.”

“Chocolate or vanilla?”

“Strawberry.”

“Whoa, that is weird.”

Another wave of people came into the club. Maria dutifully clicked them off on her counter. Gia asked, “Is Stanley here?”

“He refused to come. He's sulking in the Prison Condo.”

The groom had no choice but to move into the room Erin had vacated. Maria wouldn't have him back, not that there was any room for him at the bungalow now anyway. Although Gia loved the beach house, it was her third residence in as many weeks. She longed for the feeling of home. But what home? The Toms River house she grew up in, pre-divorce-bomb, when her parents were still together? Or the Brooklyn brownstone with Mom, Bella, and Aunt Marissa? Although she and her mom had been welcomed there when they moved in, Gia couldn't shake feeling like a permanent guest.

Gia felt rudderless. She wasn't sure where she belonged. Despite the packed club and thundering house music, the flowing drinks and smiling faces, opening night was bittersweet for Gia. Despite having great friends, new pets, and a new boyfriend, she felt a bit lost.