The Beautiful People (20 page)

            “Yeah,” I
answered hesitantly. Usually they didn’t pay any attention to me when they
arrived.

            “That’s right,
you’re the little spitfire that Mr. Genovese took a liking to the last time he
was here.” My body went rigid at the mention of that name. “That was about a
week before he was whacked, wasn’t it?” He stared at me with his dark, beady
eyes. I shrugged my shoulders and feigned disinterest. I hoped he didn’t see
the panic on my face before I looked away. Joey B. stood a few feet away
listening to the exchange.

            “You know I
heard a rumor that your boy had something to do with Genovese’s untimely
death…know anything about that?” Rocco continued. He was fishing for
information and I wasn’t going to bite.

            “I don’t
have any idea what you’re talking about.”  

            “I’m not
the only one who has heard the rumor. It’s spreading pretty fast. I’d tell your
boy to watch his back,” he warned and stepped away from the counter. I managed
to hold it together until he was around the corner. The second he was out of
sight I fell apart. I was shaking so bad that the teeth rattling in my head was
louder than the music in the club. Joey B. radioed for Grant and he was up in
seconds. Joey B. filled him in on the exchange and Grant’s eyes narrowed. When
he turned back to face me I could tell he was in protective brother mode by the
way he placed his hands on my shoulders, as if transferring the weight to his.

            “Nat, that
guy was trying to pry information from you. He doesn’t know anything.”

            “But, he
was so dead on. No pun intended.”

            “The Nuccis
are trying to assert themselves again…taking advantage of the change of
leadership in New York,” he reassured me. “Trust me, there aren’t any rumors
going around or we would have heard about it. Are you going to be okay?” He
studied my face with his eyes.

            “I’m fine,”
I lied. I needed a drink badly. Grant looked at me skeptically before he left.
My mind was preoccupied the rest of the night. Rocco’s warning kept replaying
in my head as if on a loop. Sooner or later the truth was going to surface. It
usually did. When the Genovese family found out it was Dom and Grant who
executed the boss of the most powerful mafia family in the country, they would
retaliate. The ashtray taste returned to my mouth so I chewed a piece of gum.
It took the edge off, though not as good as a cocktail. Once the club had
emptied and the last gun had been returned, I headed straight to Dom’s bar. The
urge for a drink was close to uncontrollable by the time the club closed.

At first Dominic didn’t
want to give me a drink, but after he heard about my run in with Rocco, he
figured I needed one. The first drink barely took the edge off.

             “You doing
okay?”

            “No,” I
answered honestly.

            “Well,
Uncle Marco has his feelers out. If he hears anything close to what Rocco
suggested, we’ll be the first to know.”

            “I hope he
doesn’t hear anything.”

            “Me too,”
Dom agreed.

            “So are you
meeting with the boys after work?” I asked.

            “Nah - I
figured we could hang out. I don’t want you out of my sight.” He winked at me.

            “Hmm…what
did you have in mind?”

            “I figured
we could smoke up and hit Chinatown?” This suggestion usually got my appetite
going, but that still hadn’t returned to normal. Dominic frowned slightly at my
lack of enthusiasm. “…or we could go to Blue and have a few drinks – let off
some steam,” he opted.

            “I like
that idea better.” He looked disappointed that I chose a rowdy club over a
quiet dinner. Alcohol was more appealing to me than Dim Sum.

“What
if we take tomorrow night off and we run away to Atlantic City for a couple
days instead?”

“You
mean get out of Philly?” I asked, excited at the prospect of getting away from
everything. Dominic must have picked up on my change of attitude and grinned.
His dimples flashed and it reminded me that I hadn’t seen him smile like that
in a while. He must be excited to get out of town too.

“Yeah,
it’ll be nice. Some ocean breezes, some relaxation. Just you and me.”

“Yes!
Let’s do it!” Then I hesitated. “Will we be able to get out of work tomorrow
night?” I asked doubtfully.

“That
won’t be a problem. I’ll talk to Miranda.” He ducked out from underneath the
bar and walked to Miranda’s office. He rapped on the door, waited a few seconds
and then disappeared inside. I sipped on my drink and felt giddy with
excitement. The thought of the salt air and being away from Crimson was an
appealing one.

“Hey
Nat. How are you?” Grant interrupted my thoughts.

“I’m
good.”

“All
recovered from what Rocco said earlier?”

“Yes.
I’m not going to let him get to me.” I wasn’t about to let those thoughts ruin
my ideal getaway either.

“Have
you spoken to Brittany lately?” Grant asked.

“No.
I haven’t actually.” Brittany had moved back to her apartment two weeks earlier.
She and Dominic had a huge argument over the fact that he refused to bring
cocaine back to the condo for her. Dominic had returned home after work and
Brittany was waiting for him. She was completely wasted from sucking down a
liter of gin. When he showed up empty handed she got belligerent and a shouting
match ensued. I tried to intervene but was so drunk I could barely stand up,
let alone mediate. Most of the fight is a little fuzzy but I remember the final
words that were exchanged.

“If
you want coke, get up off of your drunk ass and get it yourself,” Dominic
shouted.

“I
fucking will you inconsiderate fuck!” Brit fired back.

“I’m
an inconsiderate fuck? Who has let you stay here no questions asked? You drink
all fucking day and eat all the food. No wonder Natalie is wasting away over
there.” He gestured to me, who had helplessly plopped down on the sofa; even
standing took a lot of energy these days. “There isn’t any food for her to
eat.”

“Dom,
it’s not like that…” I attempted to interject.

“So,
Brit, are you going to go out and get your own drugs?” Dominic challenged.
Brittany stared at the front door with trepidation, like a dragon was guarding
it.

“I…I
will.” Brittany ran to the guest room and we could hear her throwing stuff
around. I went after her to go check on her. She was in a rage and chucked a
comb at me. Amazingly I managed to dodge it.

“Whoa,
Brit, calm down. It’s just me,” I held up my hands in surrender.

Brittany had tears
pouring down her puffy face – it was puffy from all of the booze and her eyes
were red and swollen. “Nice fucking boyfriend you have there,” she sneered.

“I’ll
admit things got out of hand. But you also have to admit he has a point. We
have hidden away up here – we’re pretty pathetic,” I looked at the collection
of empty bottles on the dresser. “We need to get our shit together.”

Brittany sighed,
defeated. “I know. But I don’t think I can.” She looked at me and I could see
the anguish in her eyes. I felt that in time I would be okay, but Brittany
would probably be haunted the rest of her life.

I walked over and
hugged her. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me back. “We’ll get
through this together.” I squeezed her one more time before releasing her. She
looked up at me with watery eyes.

“Promise?”

“I
promise.”

She moved out the next
morning and we hadn’t spoken since. I called her and left her messages, but she
never called back. There were Brittany sightings; she was spotted at various
bars completely out of control. Some of the regular dealers that hung out at
Crimson also mentioned that Brittany had scored various drugs. It was a relief
knowing that she wasn’t holed up in her apartment – at least she was getting
out.

“Have
you talked to Mom lately?” Grant asked next.

“No.”
I admitted.

“Nat,
you can’t keep avoiding her. I can’t cover for you much longer. You should hear

the
crazy shit she’s coming up with.”

“Like
what?”

“Well,
first she thought you were pregnant and that’s why you’ve been avoiding her.
Now she thinks that Dom is beating you.”

“What!
She’s lost her mind.” I had enough to deal with now I had to add my mom’s crazy
notions into the mix. “Fine, I’ll call her,” I promised. “But after Dom and I
get back.”

“Where
are you going?”

“Atlantic
City for a couple days - Dom is talking to Miranda now about getting tomorrow
night off.”

“Nice.
I think that will do you some good.”

“Yeah,
me too.”

“Alright.
I’ll hold mom off for a few more days, but you really need to call her. She’s
worried about you.”

“I
know.” Go figure my mom would start to worry about me once I got in a
relationship.

She would probably be
the only mother to approve of my previous pattern of getting drunk and hooking
up with random strangers – if she only knew.

Dominic came out of
Miranda’s office with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

            “What are
you up to?” I pried.

            “You’ll
see.”  

            “So, we got
tomorrow night off?” He nodded. “When do we leave?”

            “Let’s
leave tonight.”

            “Okay!” I
sprung off the bar stool and grabbed my purse.

            “You kids
have fun,” Grant hollered after us, sounding more like a dad than a brother. I rolled
my eyes, but he didn’t see because my back was to him. Dominic and I quickly
left.

Despite the chill in
the air, we kept the convertible top down on my car and zipped East on the
Atlantic City Expressway. The second we crossed the bridge and left Philly
behind, I felt freer. I hadn’t realized how oppressive the city had become. The
urge to drink seemed to grow less intense the further we drove. At some point,
despite my hair whipping around me and occasionally stinging my face, I dozed
off.

Dom woke me up as he
pulled up in front of the Borgata. The bright lights of the awning shocked me
and I had to squint to let my eyes adjust. The valet held the door open for me
and I stepped out. Dominic handed the man a twenty with one hand and grabbed
mine with the other. A bell hop appeared out of nowhere and retrieved our bags.

We walked up to the
front desk to check in. Even though it was almost five in the morning, the
lobby buzzed with energy. Everywhere I looked there were well-dressed people; a
parade of suits and sequined dresses. I felt a little self conscious in my work
clothes. We had stopped long enough at home to each pack a bag, but didn’t
bother to change.

            “Hi, we’re
here to check in.”

            “Last name
on the reservation please,” the concierge asked in a bored drawl.

            “Grabano.”
At the mention of Dominic’s last name, the concierge’s attitude changed. She stood
up straighter and became very attentive.

            “Yes, sir.
Someone called ahead and made all the arrangements for you. Here’s the key to
your suite and your massages are scheduled for 2 p.m., after brunch.”

I don’t know how
Dominic did it, but he had arranged a spa getaway in under three hours. That
would explain his mischievous grin earlier and I suspected that the person who
called ahead was Miranda. He pulled out a roll of hundred dollar bills. “This
should cover it,” he said and handed the woman a stack.

            “Oh, and
the GM asked me to give this to you.” She handed Dominic an envelope with the
Borgata logo.

            “Thanks.”
We stepped away from the counter and made our way to the elevators.

            “What’s in
the envelope?” I pried.

            “Gambling
receipts.”

            “What for?”
Gambling wasn’t one of Dominic’s interests.

            “Tax audit
– it never fails that the IRS audits me and these receipts help document some
of my income.”

            “Oh. That makes
sense.”

            “There’s
some in here for you too.”

            “For me?
Why?”

            “Your
income isn’t exactly being reported. When was the last time Crimson gave you a
paystub?”

            “Never. I
just get cash.”

            “Exactly.”
He shoved the envelope into a side pocket on his suitcase. We were the only
ones on the elevator when it reached the top floor. We stepped out onto plush
carpet and I followed Dominic down the hall. The bell hop was waiting for us at
the end. Dominic slid the key card into the lock and the door swung silently
open to reveal an enormous suite. I stopped in the doorway and stared. Never in
my life had I stayed in a hotel room this luxurious. The suite was easily the
size of our condo. My attention was immediately captured by the floor to
ceiling windows. The night sky was beginning to lighten with the new day and I
could already envision how magnificent the sunrise would be over the Atlantic
Ocean that lapped at the shore stories below.