Endings & Beginnings (New Mafia Trilogy #3) Page 4

  “Hey Grant,” I said.

  “Just checking in to see how things are going?”

  “Fine. We’re just catching up.”

  “So no freak outs or anything?”

  “No, we’re good, I’ll call you later.” I hung up and slipped the phone back in my pocket.

  Natalie was watching me with one of her eyebrows raised and her arms crossed over her chest. “Did you have my brother call as a back-up in case you needed an out?”

  “No, that was random, but I’m surprised he didn’t call you first.”

  She shrugged and lowered her arms, “I left my cell phone upstairs since I needed some down time.”

  Grant’s call had interrupted whatever moment we were having and the energy between us had shifted. Natalie was back to being more guarded. Seeing her, though, had gone much better than I anticipated.

  “I need to get going,” I said and stood up. Quickly closing the gap between us, I bent down and kissed Natalie on her forehead. Not wanting to scare her off by coming on too strong, I left it open for her to contact me. The words “I love you” were right there, dangling on the edge of my tongue and I barely managed to choke them back.

  “Thanks for stopping by. It was great seeing you. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you too, babe. Don’t wait too long to call me, okay?” I said with an exaggerated smile and a wink, which made her laugh. I could still hear her laughing as I walked away and that sound inspired hope.

  Chapter 4

  Natalie

  My heart was still racing and Dom had been gone for over ten minutes. From the moment we hugged I knew I was done for. I loved that man and when he held me, I realized how easy it would be to just give in and be with him again despite our crazy history. Shaking my head, like that would really clear those thoughts, I decided to pack it up and head back inside. The sun had moved behind a bank of thunder heads and the humidity had been slowly building, making the late spring day seem more like late summer. Sweat trickled down my spine just from walking past the pool to the double glass doors. The cool blast of air when I opened one of the doors was refreshing. By the time I reached my room, my skin was prickling with goose bumps, an indication that I probably got a little sunburned. When I entered the room, my mom was in what was quickly becoming her favorite spot. She was sitting against an arm of the loveseat with her legs stretched out across the cushions, reading a book. She looked up at me and smiled.

  “You got some sun,” she said, but not critically, she was just making an observation.

  “I did, probably too much. I’m going to go shower. Are we still having dinner with Grant?”

  “Yes, he’s picking us up at 7:00. Did Dominic find you?” she asked, folding the page over in her book and closing it before setting it on the coffee table, indicating this wasn’t going to be a brief conversation.

  “He did.” I intentionally kept my response brief.

  “Is everything okay? He didn’t upset you or anything?”

  “No, we just talked for a bit. We’re good.”

  “I know I’ve been judgmental in the past about Dominic, well anyone you dated really, and I’m going to try to not let my experiences cloud yours. It won’t be easy, so please bear with me. I want you to be happy, Natalie.”

  Damn it, she was saying all of the right things and had been acting rationally all week making me feel like the irrational one. I decided to take Dom’s advice of going day by day. I wasn’t committing to getting my hopes up long-term. A day was nothing to lose if I wound up getting burned.

  “You seem to be happy with Grant and Miranda getting married.” I set my sunscreen and iPod on the counter and sat down in a chair next to the loveseat.

  “I am. Miranda’s good for Grant. She keeps him on his toes. My therapist and I talked about my resistance to you two being in relationships and we agree that if I couldn’t be happy then, as twisted as it sounds, I didn’t want you to be happy either.”

  I was quiet, letting this new revelation sink in. What my mom said made sense.

  “Natalie, I’ve been a miserable person for so long and it pains me to realize how much it has impacted your life and Grant’s.” She reached over and grabbed my hand, giving it a light squeeze. “It’s a lot to forgive me for, I know, but hopefully someday you can.”

  Take it a day by day, I reminded myself. “Give me time, Mom.” I returned the squeeze and she smiled at me.

  “That’s all I’m asking, that you give us time.”

  She released my hand and I stood up. Before leaving the room, I glanced over and my mom had resumed reading. She looked content sitting there nibbling on a cookie as thunder rumbled outside.

  ***

  Grant picked us up right at 7:00 and I was still rushing around trying to get ready. After talking with my mom, I had every intention of taking a shower, but made the mistake of lying down on the bed in my cool, dark room. The combination of sunbathing and two back to back emotional talks had taken their toll and I passed out. Fortunately my mom had come in to check on me otherwise I would have slept through dinner. I didn’t delay us too much and emerged from the bedroom at about ten minutes after seven with my hair pulled up into a twist since I didn’t have time to wash it. At least I was able to rinse off the sunscreen’s greasy residue.

  Grant pulled up in front of Butter and it hadn’t changed at all. A large cream awning extended out to the street where a young guy in a valet uniform opened the passenger side door and helped my mom out before opening my door. He then went around and tore off a ticket for Grant. We walked up to the large glass entrance and Grant held the door for us. I was expecting Dominic and Miranda’s cousin, Dante, to greet us and was surprised to see his father, Al Grabano, instead. I had always liked Uncle Al and he was the most even tempered of the Grabano brothers. When Marco was the boss, Al served as one of his Capos, but now that the new mafia leadership had taken over, he was back to overseeing operations of Butter, one of his many business ventures.

  “Natalie!” he practically yelled and pulled me into a hug. His signature gray streaked beard tickled against my neck. “How are you?” he asked, stepping away and holding me at arm’s length for a full inspection, which seemed to be a trait with Dominic’s family. The last time Al saw me I was recovering from being shot and had my arm in a sling. This was just a few days before I disappeared and ran away to Los Angeles.

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “You look great, kid. Better than last time, ya know what I’m saying?” he raised his eyebrows at me.

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I noticed my mom looking at us with narrowed eyes, trying to decipher what Al was cryptically saying.

  “Uncle Al, have you met my mom, Anna?” Grant interrupted and made the introduction. Instead of shaking my mom’s hand, Al brought it to his lips so he could kiss the back. My mom blushed, actually blushed, and then giggled. I couldn’t believe it and looked over at Grant who was shaking his head and grinning. Al was laying on the charm pretty thick, but it provided the perfect distraction and I had to admit, I enjoyed seeing this flirtatious side of my mom. I just hoped Al kept it an act. The last thing Grant and I needed was for mom to fall for a Grabano too. Just sign us up for a reality show.

  Al snapped his fingers and a hostess approached with three leather bound menus in her hand. We followed her to a table and I couldn’t help but notice how she kept looking at Grant and giving him all of the attention. She touched his arm before leaving our table and told Grant that if he needed anything, to let her know. Grant caught me rolling my eyes.

  “What?” he asked.

  “She’d probably cut your food and feed it to you if you asked.”

  He shrugged, “I can’t help it if the ladies dig me.”

  “Oh gawd. Really?” I shook my head, spreading a cloth napkin across my lap. Throughout this exchange, which was just typical banter for me and Grant, mom had laughed.

  “You two,” she said, chuckling.

&n
bsp; Just like when Dominic took me to Butter for dates, the service was impeccable. The moment my wine glass was a few sips shy of empty, our server was there refilling it, even though the bottle was on our table and I could have done it myself. Uncle Al personally brought our dessert to us and I practically inhaled the chocolate mousse laced with Frangelico and topped with fresh raspberries. Most of the conversation was about the wedding and plans for the baby. Grant and Miranda tried to keep her pregnancy a secret and only told a few people, but the news spread anyway.

  As Grant was driving us back to the hotel, I realized this was the most civil and pleasant family dinner we’d had in a long time. I was automatically on defense around my mom and this manifested in bodily tension, but I noticed that my body was relaxed. Sometime during dinner I’d let my guard down. It was a good feeling, but I was still leery that my mom’s reformed behavior was only temporary.

  Chapter 5

  The next night was the bachelorette party and pre-gaming started over tapas and drinks at a restaurant on Chestnut Street. Then a party bus picked us up, minus the moms and aunts, and we headed down to Carnal. Cici marched right up to the door where the manager and her latest fling, Thomas, met our group. He escorted us inside the dark club. Carnal wasn’t like a typical strip joint and it catered to all tastes. The building itself was four stories and each level offered something different. For example, the first floor was set up like a standard gentleman’s club with dancers and waitresses wearing practically nothing. The second floor was LGBT friendly and the third floor, where we were going, had the male strippers. The top floor was where Carnal’s offices were located. It was the basement that set this establishment apart from others. While not exactly a sex club, the “dungeon” is where darker tastes of the BDSM variety were catered to and for a membership fee. A separate entrance for the dungeon allowed privacy. When I worked at Crimson, rumors were going around that several high profile city officials had memberships.

  We took the elevator to the third floor and most of us stared out of the glass wall, catching glimpses of activity from each level we passed. I was expecting the third floor to be busy and hadn’t realized that Cici had arranged for us to have private access. Thomas handed us off to a shirtless host who had chiseled everything. He was shaved, spray tanned and oiled up to accentuate every muscle. Not a look I preferred, but several of the woman in our group were close to drooling. Brent, our host, led us to the area directly in front of the stage where several tables were set up. Each had an ice bucket cooling bottles of champagne and a bottle of sparkling cider in front of the seat designated for Miranda. As soon as we were all seated, another shirtless guy, equally as shiny as Brent, came around to take drink orders. Cici ordered a round of tequila shots and my stomach fluttered with excitement. Tequila was my weakness and the one thing that helped me loosen up in a new environment. I had partied with some of the girls before, like Cici, Allegra, and Miranda. Andrea and Krystal were also here and we hung out a few times when I worked at Crimson.

  While we waited for our shots, Cici presented Miranda with her bride-to-be tee shirt and a sash along with a tiara. Miranda laughed and quickly put on her gear. She was glowing even more and hadn’t stopped smiling since the evening started. Next, Cici presented Miranda with a bachelorette task list. Miranda started reading it, chuckling at some of the items. The bridal party had contributed to this, sending Cici our ideas weeks in advance. We all knew when she got to number ten on the list because she frowned as we predicted.

  “I am not kissing another guy. That’s technically cheating,” she said, glaring at her best friend. Cici was ready with her response, though. She flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder.

  “We weren’t specific about where you kiss him - could be on the cheek. Whose mind is in the gutter now?” she teased. “However, it’s your last night as a free woman and you should make it count. What happens here stays here, right ladies?”

  We all agreed and raised our champagne flutes in a toast just as Craven, our server, returned with a tray laden down with tequila shots.

  “Alright, I might as well get number one and ten out of the way then,” Miranda announced and we whooped in approval. “Craven, can you bring me back a can of whipped cream?” Number ten was kissing another man and number one was intended to be an ice breaker: she had to lick whipped cream off of one of the strippers.

  Craven didn’t seem at all phased by the request and with another order of shots ordered by Cici, he left. When he returned, Miranda whispered in his ear. With a raised eyebrow he nodded and stood up, moving closer to the bride-to-be. The music grew louder and lights around us dimmed as the stage lighting grew brighter. We weren’t interested in the show about ready to begin on stage though as Miranda’s hands gripped Craven’s hips. He wore black leather pants that hung low. She positioned him so he was facing her then she grabbed the can of whipped cream and shook it slowly, emulating that she was jacking someone off. Craven was under her spell and he licked his lips in anticipation. Miranda tilted his head then sprayed whipped cream on his neck, just one dollop. Once again holding his hips, Miranda leaned forward. We all watched; fascinated at the control she had over this guy. I noticed he was getting aroused, his leather pants unable to hide his erection. She reached his neck and licked with slow deliberate laps of her tongue, not leaving a trace of whipped cream behind. When she was done, she smacked her lips and glanced up at him. I thought she really was going to kiss him on the mouth and felt slightly uncomfortable for I agreed with Miranda and thought it was considered cheating too. Instead she gently kissed his neck, right where the whipped cream had been, making Craven groan. Then she sat down and took a sip of her sparkling cider, her eyes twinkling with amusement as our server made an awkward exit.

  We cheered and applauded Miranda before downing our shots of tequila. My body was beginning to feel warm and fuzzy, the blanket of warmth from alcohol loosening my muscles. The music started thumping and a dancer appeared on stage. He was going for the cowboy look and was wearing skin tight Wranglers, cowboy boots and a hat. His hairless chest gleamed under the stage lights and I wondered if he waxed or shaved for it was ridiculously smooth. He started grinding and working the stage. Allegra, Andrea, Krystal and Cici were front and center with handfuls of dollar bills.

  “Natalie, get your ass up here!” Cici said and yanked me out of the chair. The stripper kicked off his boots and slowly undid the giant belt buckle, pulling his belt free. Not that he needed it on to keep his jeans from slipping off; they were so tight and not going anywhere. He ran the belt between his legs and did a few pelvic thrusts. I though Krystal was going to hyperventilate or spontaneously combust. With surprising ease, the jeans came off next until the muscled and tattooed stripper was wearing just a black thong and his cowboy hat. He moved closer to the edge of the stage and dropped to his knees in front of us. Krystal screamed and shoved a whole handful of bills in his thong. She lingered a little longer than appropriate and the stripper gave her a knowing grin followed by a wink before he extricated her hand.

  It only unraveled from there. The more we drank, the friendlier the strippers became. After his performance, the cowboy, who we found out went by Tex, sat down at our table welcoming Krystal to sit on his lap. The petite brunette didn’t hesitate. Miranda was brought up onstage to cross item number two off of her list. She had a lap dance from not just one, but two strippers. She really got into it and I couldn’t help but laugh when she grabbed onto the tan ass cheeks of the dancer who started out in a tuxedo and was left wearing a white thong and black bow tie.

  Drinks flowed and we were surrounded by almost naked men, but none of them compared to Dominic and I was hornier than ever. Not using better judgment, I drunk texted him.

  Me: I miss you

  Dom: I miss u too. R U behaving tonight?

  Me: Maybe. You?

  Dom: I’d rather be with you

  Fuck. I wanted to be with him too and was tempted to go to him, have him take me back to
his place. My fingers hovered over the keyboard on my phone. Fortunately, Cici chose that moment to call the bridal party around for us to give Miranda the present we all chipped in together for. Turning my phone off, I slipped it into my bag where I ignored it for the rest of the night.

  Chapter 6

  Traditionally, it was the groom’s parents responsibility to plan and pay for the rehearsal dinner. Grant was ready to step up and foot the bill, but apparently Dominic’s Uncle Franco and Aunt Gloria balked at the idea and offered to host the dinner at their restaurant at no cost. Aunt Gloria refused to take no for an answer. Grant told me she even shook a spatula at him when he tried to turn her down. He wisely acquiesced.

  Before we could even get to the dinner, we had to go through the actual rehearsal first. Even though my mom had her car, we took a cab from our hotel to the church to avoid parking issues. We were quiet on the ride over. I had a lingering hangover from the bachelorette party the night before and was nervous about being around everyone and seeing Dominic again, especially after my drunk-texting. My mom was busy staring out the cab window at the neighborhoods we drove through. Since it was a beautiful spring day, sidewalks were crowded and our driver had to slow down occasionally when a kid ran into the street, usually chasing a ball of some sort. All of the trees were covered in new leaves, the bright spring green complemented red brick row homes. The windows were cracked and all of the blossoms made the air sweet, covering up the usual metallic tang. We drove past a rectory and then turned the corner to see a towering limestone structure that was taking up half of a city block. Each ornate door was framed by a large arch and colorful stained glass windows broke up the monotony of gray stone. Instead of spires like some of the other churches in the city, this one was built almost like a castle.

  Mom paid the driver and we stepped out onto the sidewalk that, despite being in front of a church, was still desecrated with years’ worth of gum; gray, green and black dots were forever pressed into the concrete. Our heels, mom’s sensible one inch pumps and my three inch black strappy ones, clicked as we walked up to the slightly curved stairs that led to the front door. An identical set of steps was on the right adding to the grand entrance and castle-like effect.