Toni’s hand pushes past the collar of her shirt and reaches between her—
Slapping a hand over my eyes, I growl. “Hey! What the—are you doing, Toni?”
“It’s only a bra, Santa!” She yanks the phone out of her shirt.
“Little girl, I’m not trying to see that or touch your cell phone with where it came from. You’re becoming a woman, Toni,act like it.” I groan, feeling like a father.
“I know!”
“Put your cell phone in a purse or something.” My super-intelligent niece isn’t acting ladylike at all. Holy fucking cannoli.
“I’m not going out tonight, Santa.” She holds the phone out.
“You call him, kid.”
“Ha! They aren’t big enough to start sweating, so take it.” She snorts, gesturing toward her breasts.
I gesture toward the counter. “Call and place it there, please.”
I nudge my chin again, giving herthe looknow. She heads off upstairs.
When the call connects, women are giggling in the background.
I snarl, “You didn’t have enough to pay for your daughter’s summer hobby, but you can go out on the weekend!”
Big Tony sputters, “Santino? Why are you calling from Antonia’s phone? You blocked me.”
Leaning my elbows on the counter, I roar into the receiver, “Listen, Tony. You’re out with some bitch and can’t spend at least one night a week with your daughter?”
“Chill, Santi, Antonia likes—”
“First, family calls me that.”
“Okay,Santa.”
“My closest family calls me that! Big Tony, you listen to me good,” I take on a grave low voice.
“I-I’m listening. I’m sorry, Santino.”
“Tomorrow morning is Sunday. You’re taking your daughter and ex-mother-in-law to Mass, then you’re spending the day with Toni. After that, you’re gonna delegate more time toyour daughter. She lost her mother years ago, not her father.”
“I get it. You’re breaking my balls!”
“Not yet.Capiche.” Though it burns me inside to get all stereotypical Italian mafia on him.
He gulps. “I’ll be there first thing in the morning. What time is—”
I give him the time, hang up, and then try Gina for the millionth time. I sit down with Ma. I’m about to ask her what she’d like for dinner on a Saturday night with her thirty-six-year-old, single son when Gina calls me.
9
Gina
My father is cursed with daughters. Three of them. Geraldine, Gabriella, and me. Geraldine’s the eldest. She left what she called a ‘sinking ship’ before I had grabbed my diploma and tossed my cap in the air. Gabriella married a man primed for a position at Galloway Enterprise.
Every once in a while, Dad sends a business conquest in my direction, saying a merger is a good look for me. That means once I marry a businessman, of course. My future husband would have the cushiony position I created for myself in our industry.
Yeah, never happening.