Page 42 of Mafia King
I want that wine. The sticky sweet on my tongue, the warmth in my chest, the dry tang after.
“When.”
He stops the pour and pushes the glass to me, then sits.
“How was your day?” I ask as if the last time I saw him in that chair, I hadn’t been on my knees.
“Good.” He eats, going along with my pretense that everything’s fine. “Yours?”
Mine. Sure. It was great. I realized I had a missed period and went to the drugstore for a pregnancy test, but I didn’t want to get it in front of Armando because he’d report right back to his employer and Gia was going on about the guy who bought her, so instead I asked about the first thing that popped into my head.
“Fine.”
“Birthday candles.” One eyebrow raised, he eats his chicken.
“It’s coming up. Mine.” As if the 2 and the 0 aren’t enough of a clue.
But maybe they aren’t, because he stiffens and puts on his bossman face. Why… I don’t know. Maybe he has a big surprise planned? Or maybe he forgot it completely. It’s possible he doesn’t even know the date.
“What would you like? For a gift?”
It’s fair to say he doesn’t know me well enough to know what I want. That must be the source of his discomfort.
“I thought just a cake.” I swirl the wine, try to read his thoughts, fail, and go on. “Maybe people? Some family? Might as well, right?”
“It is a Monday.” He seems to be chewing the inside of his cheek like he’s gnawing on a thought.
“We can do it the night before. Regular Sunday dinnertime. It’ll be fun!”
“It will be fun.” He doesn’t sound convinced.
“Unless Gia’s getting married that weekend.”
“Definitely no.” He eats, shaking his head.
He’s confirmed for me, and when the tension leaves my chest, it feels as if I’ve been restrained for so long, I forgot what it felt like to have my hands free.
“This call to me today? About Gia?” He seems suddenly unconcerned about whatever was bothering him about my birthday.
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
“This panic you had… it’s not necessary. There’s a process.”
“There is? I was somehow dragged through it blindfolded.”
He stops mid chew, then starts again. “I regret that.”
“I’m just saying, the process can’t be such a big deal if you decided to do it differently.”
“You were different,” he says, still eating. “There was no debt to secure.”
“Tell me.” I lean on my elbows with the glass swirling between my fingertips. “Come on. Tell me the fun I missed.”
“It’s not that fun.” Santino sits back and takes stock of me. I’m trying to keep it light, but he’s a wild creature, and I know he sees through me. I assume he’ll cut off the conversation, but I’m wrong. “First, as an act of good faith, Damiano will put the debt money into escrow, then send flowers. When her father confirms the escrow, he’ll give the flowers to the Virgin.”
“I’m sorry? The virgin is Gia?”
“No.” His impatience doesn’t seem directed at me, but himself. “The Virgin in the shrine.”
