“So, what? You’re the perfect Santa . . . And er, you’ll need money for Christmas gifts soon enough. Second, you can go to the party tonight wearing that. Every bitch is crazy for a construction wor—”
“Nope.” I cross my arms. “I need to be here bright and early tomorrow. She was walking from the east . . .”
“Oh, no . . .” Tory groans. “The black girl? The one you’ve stared at for weeks?”
My mouth pulls into a Cheshire grin.
Carlos says, “Work this 21st birthday party tonight, then I’ll tell you her name.”
Tory mumbles, “Her name is . . .”
“Season passes to the Giants,” Carlos growls.
I lean against the wooden table where our construction tools are tossed. “What’s her name? You assholes have known her name this entire time and didn’t tell me?”
Guilty, Tory rubs the back of his neck.
“Yup. Heard the lady say, ‘do you know who I am?’She spoke all high and mighty before proceeding to remind the caller her name.” Carlos smiles. “The broad’s too white-collar for the likes of us.”
“Eh, Carlos has a point.”
“So, I’m not good enough for her?” I step up to Carlos, abandoning my promise to lay off the Morelli temper since my older sister brought Antonia into this world. My niece, Toni, is thirteen now. The poor thing has a knucklehead pops who ends every statement of his with “capiche,” no matter how ridiculous he sounds. Big Tony can quoteThe Godfatherbut forgets to pick up Toni from summer camp. The dick’s never been to Italy while I’m 100% Italy, born and bred.
Now, you’re probably wondering how a man like me took up stripping in the first place. First, erotic dancing is a diversified field—husbands, college students, one guy who restored a 1970 Grand Torino. He said he’d stop, the addiction of stripping and acquiring new classics has him prepared for the stage even now.
And me?
Money has always been a motivating factor—and I’m Italian. I can do any fucking thing I put my mind to. It was just my luck that I met Carlos on the job the same year I left behind a life of crime for Toni.
“C’mon, Santino,” Carlos stutters, bringing me back to reality. “Tonight, you shove your dick in a few faces, let some more broads rub your chest. Then I’ll share your future wife’s name.”
The motherfucker dares to stare at me in disbelief. But they have never seen me determined.
3
Gina
At the end of the next day, I’ve spoken to various corporate stakeholders until I’m blue in the face. When one fire ignites, more go off. I analyze and often resurrect failing businesses. For a hefty price, I’ll develop an action plan, informing them when to fold or modify company policies. Capital is king.
With the bustling street as my focus, I strut along the glass walls of Galloway Enterprise. The sliding door exit is before me as I speak to my older sister.
“Gina, will you be home this weekend? I have the—”
“No, Gabriella. I can wrangle a date, thank you very much,” I growl, strutting out the door. Though my office is on the top floor, it’s as if I’ve opened my eyes directly into the sun. I’d poured over papers today, and my six-inch heels are killing me.
“Are you dating—”
“Sure,” I snort. I meander through the hustle and bustle of a Manhattan street life. I hadn’t scheduled my Uber Lux, or my ride would already be waiting. I have a sudden craving for Italian.
“You’re dating?”
“Yeah, I’m dating this guy.”
“What’s his name?”
“Hold on, Gabby. Let me swipe left.”
“Girl, it’s swipe right! Yourbigsister has been off the market for almost six years and five months, and even I know that.”