Chapter Nine
Snake
I pull up in front of Jess’ apartment building in the car Salvatore loaned me, a black BMW i8 with black leather interior. It’s a sweet ride, smooth and fast. Maybe once our credit card scheme gets going, I can afford one of my own.
Jess is waiting outside for me when I pull up to the curb. I take a moment to admire how good she looks. She’s wearing a black, knee length pencil skirt, and a fitted, low cut emerald green blouse. Her wavy hair is tousled and loose over her shoulders. Very business sexy. I know what she’s doing. She’s using her sexuality. With a guy like Monty, that’s a smart move. He can’t say no to a pair of nice tits, whether they’re asking him for a ride home, or to go up and get the moon for them.
She starts to walk over to the passenger seat. I get out and beat her there, then open the door for her. She gives me an annoyed look.
“Evening, Jess,” I say, leaning over the open door.
“Evening,” she says, curtly, then starts to get into the car.
I’m admiring her ass when she bends down, and notice a lump at her hip. I put my hand over it.
“What the hell are you doing?” she asks.
I run my hand over the lump, feeling the handle of a gun, a snub-nosed revolver from my estimation.
“You’re strapped?” I ask.
Jess shoves my hand away, and gets in the car. “You’re not?”
On the drive over, Jess doesn’t seem much in the mood for conversation, but I don’t think she ever is. I keep quiet, not pushing anything. I focus on the road, though her cleavage is pretty distracting.
We arrive at Firenze, a five star Italian restaurant who’s owner is tight with Franco Mariano, the boss. Franco provided the capital to get this restaurant started sometime in the eighties. Since then, any Mariano eats at Firenze for free.
A lot of people are already here. Mobsters stream inside, all dressed to the nines, with their wives and kids in tow. Jess squints out of the window.
“Is this a party?” she asks.
“It’s Monty’s birthday party,” I say, putting the car in park.
Jess’ look goes sour. “I thought this was a business meeting.”
“The capo will be in a good mood tonight. Trust me, you want to catch guys like him in a good mood.”
I get out of the car, and see Jess struggle to open her door. It won’t budge. I come around and open it for her.
“Why is that locked?” she asks, standing up and straightening her skirt.
“The passenger door locks from the inside. It’s a special feature.” I offer her my arm. “Shall we?”
I expect her to stick up her nose and refuse my arm, but she takes it. She walks close to me as we approach the front door. I figure she’s scared. Brave as she is, she should be scared. She’s walking straight into the lion’s den. But it’s okay. I’ll keep her safe. I tighten my arm around hers, letting her know as much.
The lobby is packed. Most of the Mariano family has shown up to celebrate Monty’s sixtieth. All of Monty’s soldiers are here, and guys from the other crews as well. They swarm around the bar ordering drinks. Murals of Florence, painted by an Italian artist, are sprawled across the stucco walls. There’s an impressive water display behind the bar, and the floor is lined with terra-cotta tiles.
I hold on to Jess’ arm as I navigate through the crowd. In the backroom, just off of the dining room, I see Franco Mariano. He’s surrounded by made men who are paying their respects.
“There’s someone we have to greet first,” I whisper to Jess.
“Monty?” she asks, her eyes lighting up. Geez, this chick is all business.
I put my hand on her hips and swivel her towards the backroom. “Franco Mariano. The boss of the Mariano family, the most powerful, and dangerous man in LA.”
I was hoping to scare Jess a little, so she’d sidle up closer to me, but it didn’t work. She drops my arm and starts for the backroom. She turns back to me. “What are you waiting for?”
She waltzes into the back room, elbowing through the crowd of mobsters, until she’s standing in front of Franco. Franco, a distinguished man in his seventies, looks her over.
“I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Jess Hunt.”
“Jess Hunt,” Franco says, with calm patience. He takes her hand and kisses it. “And who are you?”
Jess gives him a flirtatious smile. “I’m your business associate.”
Franco’s eyes flit over to me. “She with you.”
“Yes, boss,” I say. “I can vouch for her.”
Franco nods, dully. “Uh-huh. And remind me of your name, young man.”
I rub the back of my neck, ignoring Jess’ questioning look. “Tyler Gallo. I go by Snake. I’m one of Monty’s guys.”
It takes a few moments, but I finally see a flicker of recognition in Franco’s face.
“Snake, of course. You know, me and the other guys refer to you as the ‘charity case,’ so you can understand my confusion.”
“Sure,” I say, forcing out a laugh. “You know, Jess and I have something exciting in the works. I think you’ll be very pleased.”
“That’s good to hear. We need Monty’s crew to turn things around.” Franco turns towards his other guests, letting us know he’s done with us. “You two have fun tonight,” he says.
Jess stares at me as we elbow our way back to the lobby. That’s not the light I wanted her to see me in, with my own boss struggling to remember my name. That will all change soon.
Jess and I keep getting separated in the crowd. I reach back and grab on to her hand. At first, she flinches, then her fingers relax under my grip. I jerk my head over to the bar, where Monty’s already started on the tequila shots.
Jess freezes, making me stop. I look back and see her staring at Monty. Her teeth are clenched, her narrowed eyes focused on him. I give her hand a squeeze.
“Now’s not the time to chicken out,” I say.
She jerks her gaze to me. “I’m not chickening out. Let’s do this.”
While walking over there, I hope this conversation goes better than the one with Franco. I have a lot of face to save.
“Happy birthday, capo,” I say, patting Monty heartily on the back.
He turns to me with a huge smile. His face is red, and he’s sweating, a combination of a crowded room and liquor.
“Snake,” Monty yells, drawing out my name, and holding his hands out. “Thank you for being here today. Would you like a shot?” He picks up the bottle sitting in front of him. “Gran Patron Burdeos, the only liquor worth drinking.”
Even though Franco told me to have fun, I don’t feel comfortable drinking from a four hundred dollar bottle of tequila until I start bringing cash in.
“I’m good,” I say, holding up my hand.
Monty looks over at Jess. “A shot for the lady?”
Jess doesn’t say anything. She stares straight at Monty, but it looks like she’s worlds away. I step in to keep her from ruining things.
“I’d like to introduce you to Jess Hunt,” I say. “Hopefully, a new business associate of the crew.”
Monty eyes her, his gaze settling directly onto her chest. “Uh-huh. I’m aware of Ms. Hunt. Salvatore told me all about your little scheme.” He grabs my shirt with his meaty fist, and pulls me close to him. “Well done. I always knew you were a smart kid. Now go get a drink.”
I wish him a happy birthday again, then grab Jess and walk away.
“Is that it?” she asks, nervously.
I give her a confident smile. “That’s it. I told you he’d be in a good mood.”
I find an empty table near the wine cellar, and tell Jess to have a seat. I glide over to the bar feeling like a new man. My money problems are all but over. All I have to do now is rise up the ranks. Charity case, my ass.
I recognize the guy behind the bar. It’s Matt Walker. We grew up at the boy’s home together. He wears a crisp white shirt and black slacks. He looks better than I’ve seen him in a long time. He must’ve gotten himself cleaned up, though I’m sure under those long sleeves, there’s still ugly red track marks on the inside of his arm.
“Yo, Matt,” I say, reaching across the bar to shake his head. “You look good, man. How are you?”
Matt throws a towel over his shoulder, and plants his hands on the bar. “I am good. I’m working here now. Hours are shit, but the tips aren’t bad.”
“Look at you, all cleaned up and with a legitimate job. I’m glad to see you here, instead of running low level jobs for the Lombardi’s. What did I tell you about them? They give you all the risk, and hardly any pay.”
Matt nods, laughing. “They kept me flush with smack, but all that’s behind me now.”
“That’s great,” I say, hoping he means it this time.
I return to Jess with our drinks, champagne for me, sparkling apple cider for her. She shakes her head as I hand it to her.
“Relax,” I say, sitting beside her. “It’s juice with bubbles.”
She smiles, if only for a second, and accepts the drink. I clink my glass against hers.
“Now it’s really official,” I say.
Jess, who’s staring at my champagne with envy, blinks rapidly. “Good.”
We spend a few moments in silence. I watch Jess discreetly. Shit, she’s beautiful. Ever since I met her, she makes other women look like bland pieces of cardboard. And even though she gets on my nerves sometimes, I like that biting attitude of hers.
I don’t want to be just business partners, I want to be more. But my usual methods haven’t worked so far. I’ll admit, I’m a little out of my wheelhouse here. In the past, all I’ve had to do is flash a charming smile, and panties are hitting the ground. I take another sip of champagne, deciding to put my cock away for now.
“So, tell me about yourself,” I say.
Jess squints, like I just said the sky is orange. “What?”
I look up, pleading with whatever god may be watching. “I want to know about you. Where are from? Where did you go to school? What do you like to do?”
Jess blinks, considering the questions like it’s an algebra problem. “Santa Barbara. Stanford. Work.”
“Jesus, I’m trying to have a conversation here. Why make it so hard?”
“Sorry. I’m used to you trying to slip your hands down my pants.”
I take a drink, swallowing the smart ass comment on my tongue. “You’re right. Please excuse my ungentlemanly behavior. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Jess’ bottom lip pokes out. It’s a quick, unconsciousness movement. I like to think she’s disappointed in hearing I won’t put a move on her, which encourages me.
“We’re business associates now,” I continue. “I’ve got nothing but respect for you. We’re equals.”
Jess raises her eyebrows, her eyes glimmering. “Equals?” she says in a hopeful voice.
I turn towards her, thinking I’m feeling her icy exterior melt just a bit. Maybe the nice routine is working.
“To tell you the truth,” I start, humbling myself. “You saved my ass. The Mariano’s have fallen on hard times lately. If I don’t turn things around soon, I’ll be sleeping with the fishes, as they say.”
I laugh. Jess doesn’t.
“Is that a joke?” she asks.
“Yes.”
“You don’t seem so sure.”
I raise my hands looking up at the ceiling. “It’s a fucking joke. You know, haha, laughing. Do you do that on Ice Queen Planet?”
At this, Jess laughs. Her shoulders relax. She looks at me, and finally, doesn’t look like she’s a thousand miles away.
“Would you call me an Ice Queen if I was a man? Or would you call me assertive, determined, strong?”
I take a minute to think about this. “If you were man, I’d advise you to get your dick sucked. Relax a little.”
She rolls her eyes, but she’s still smiling. “So, it’s back to sex?”
I notice a change in her body language. It’s softer. Her shoulders are squared towards me. I sense my chance. She looks surprised when I take her hand, and kiss her knuckles.
“It’s not just sex I’m after,” I say.
I feel a rush of adrenaline. I can’t believe I just said that. But Jess doesn’t cower away. She looks up into my eyes. There’s a warmth in my chest, and somehow, I know she feels it too. I start to lean in to kiss her, when Jess suddenly stands up, saying she has to go to the restroom.
She yanks her hand away from mine, then walks quickly towards the restroom. I reach my arms back, like I’m stretching, trying to play it off. When she’s gone, and I realize no one’s looking, I tip back the champagne, draining it in one gulp.
What happened? Why did she leave? I could’ve sworn there was something between us, a connection. Why is she resisting? I sit there alone for a few more minutes, stewing. The nice guy approach didn’t work. I’ll have to be more assertive.
I straighten my tie, then head to the hallway where the restrooms are located, and watch the door to the women’s room. As soon as Jess comes out, I’m going to grab her and kiss her. I’m going to make her confront what’s between us. I hold my hands in tight fists, pumping myself up for what I have to do.
What the hell is taking her so long? I watch women go inside, then come out a few minutes after. Anxiety creeps up my spine. Did Jess ditch me? I watch another group of women enter, and then exit. I’m reasonably certain that the restroom is empty, so I storm in there.
“Jess,” I yell. There’s no answer. I check every stall. They’re all empty. Glancing around, I try to figure out how she could have escaped. The only option is the window, but it’s high up on the wall and to narrow to squeeze through.
I shoulder past a confused elderly woman as I exit the restroom. I look for Jess everywhere, at every table, in every room.
“Fucking bitch called a cab,” I grumble under my breath. She’d gotten what she wanted, which was to meet Monty and seal the deal, and she left me in the lurch. I’m about to go to the bar to drown my sorrow, when I realize there’s one place I haven’t looked, the kitchen. It’s a long shot, but I have to try.
I follow a waiter and slip into the kitchen behind him. It’s a madhouse in here. There are about a dozen cooks all prepping for dinner. At one table, they peel a mountain of shrimp. At another, a latino man is mincing garlic like a ninja. Of course, Jess is nowhere to be found. I’m about to leave, when a waiter enters through a door in the back. When the door swings open, I see it’s a small room stacked high with boxes. Before the door closes I catch a glimpse of something emerald green hidden in a dark corner, almost obscured by a rack of shelves.
That’s Jess’ blouse. What’s she doing in there? I run hot with jealousy. Immediately, I assume she’s found another guy to hook up with in that dark room. The cooks are too busy to notice as I walk through the kitchen to that door. It hasn’t closed all the way, so I’m able to peek through the crack. I want to catch her with whoever he is, so I can break his nose. Everyone at the party saw me walk in with her. It’s against the Mariano code of honor to take a made man’s woman.
Jess is still in the same place, standing with her back flush against the wall. Her dark clothing is barely visible in the dimly lit room. From what I can see, she’s alone. She looks around, then walks over to table, where a bottle of liquor is being chilled in a tub of ice. Her movements are frantic as she reaches into her purse, and pulls out something small. She opens the liquor bottle, pours something inside of it, then quickly screws the cap back on.
“What the fuck?” I mutter.
I find a large oven full of baking bread and duck behind it. Sure enough, Jess exits the room, then quickly walks out of the kitchen without being noticed.
My stomach sinks. What the hell is she up to?
When she’s gone, I slip into the room, and head straight for that liquor bottle. There’s a notecard lying next to the tub of ice, with Reserved For Monty Mariano: Serve with dinner scrawled across.
“Shit.”
I immediately start to sweat. Who is she? Who have I brought into the family? I grab the tequila bottle by the neck, and pull it soaking wet out of the ice. There’s a utility sink here. I unscrew the top, and pour the entire contents down the sink. I stash the empty bottle at the bottom of a trash can, and get the hell out of there.
I go to the bathroom and splash cold water on my face. I can barely look at myself in the mirror. It was my job to vet Jess, and I failed. Was I that desperate for cash, that I’d let a traitor into the inner circle of the family? Finally, I bring my gaze to my reflection in the mirror.
“Get your shit together,” I tell myself.
Outside in the lobby, I skirt around the edges of the crowd. I spot Jess at our table. She’s looking around, probably wondering where I went. I finger the gun strapped to my hip. I should take it out, and shoot her right now. But that would bring up too many questions. The boss might think that I was in on her scheme, then both of us would be dead.
A waiter carrying a tray of champagne approaches Jess. I think she’ll wave him away, but instead, she accepts a glass with a friendly smile. She takes a sip, closing her eyes with pleasure.
“You bitch,” I grumble. “Who the fuck are you?”
Someone clinks a knife against a glass, and the restaurant goes silent. Franco stands at the center of the lobby with Monty next to him.
“I want to thank everyone for coming out and celebrating my dear nephew,” Franco says. “You don’t look a day over sixty-five.”
“I’m sixty,” Monty yells, drunkenly. The crows erupts in laughter.
“Now,” Franco continues. “Please join us in the dining room. Dinner is served.”
There’s a long table with enough chairs for everyone set up in the dining room. Jess blinks around the room, unsure what to do. I keep my eyes on her as I approach her.
“There you are,” she says when she sees me.
I hold out my arm. “Shall we?”
We find our place at the table. I’m staring at Jess, hard, but she barely notices. She’s watching Monty at the head of the table. Waiters swarm around the table, refilling drinks and taking orders. When one approaches Monty with a fresh glass of tequila, Jess straightens up in her seat. Her eyes are wide as Monty takes a sip. The capo’s face scrunches, and he stares crosseyed into his glass.
“Hey,” Monty yells after the waiter. “What is this swill? It’s not my Patron.”
While the waiter runs over apologizing, I watch Jess sink into her seat. Her face turns ghost white. I nudge her with my elbow.
“Having fun?” I ask.
“What?” she asks, blinking. “Uh-huh.”