“Because they want to stay in business.”
“Perhaps you’d like to get to the part where you explain that one?”
I lean in, giving him a studious look. “Let’s start with campaign finance law.”
The way his eyes briefly go wide tells me everything I need to know.
“From there—and this might be more appropriate to discuss with David Winters—we can discuss the Abernathy Trust issue and a late filing?”
I still have no idea exactly what happened there, but just the threat of it is probably enough to scare ABC into meeting my demands, if only to avoid a scandal.
“I think those two things alone might be worth what I’m asking.”
I can see him doing the math in his head. All in all, it will be nearly a million dollars when you factor in the cost of everything.
“Maybe I should make another phone call to Congressman Bowen, see how he feels about it all. He’s got an election coming up soon, doesn’t he?”
“You and your career are over ten ways from Sunday. As it is, you’ve already burned any bridge you have with regard to getting a job at another firm.”
He hasn’t said no, which means I definitely hold all the cards.
“Good thing I’m not interested in crossing that river. I have other plans.”
I only have an inkling of an idea of what I want to do. This severance should be more than enough to get me going.
“I think you’d better get the hell out of my office right about now.”
“I’ll await your answer,” I say, rising.
“And if you’re thinking of saying anything—anything!—to anyone about what you just told me, consider your ass royally and legally screwed.”
“I think we both know my ass is going to be just fine,” I say, walking out and closing the door behind me.
I once again take the stairs down to what will soon no longer be my office.
Now that that burden is over with, I’m free to think about how to spend the rest of my life.
Starting with today.
Honey spent the night with me yesterday after her show.
I’m still in awe of what I saw last night. Yes, it was risqué, but in such a fun and mesmerizing way that I couldn’t help but forget all my misgivings and become absorbed in the show.
If Honey shines in real life, on that stage she was like a star in supernova. My initial shock at seeing her come out onto the stage in that corseted outfit ebbed with laughter and pure enjoyment as I, like the rest of the crowd became rapt with her performance, and that of her friends as well.
By the time it was over, I know I wanted her more than ever.
My mother, conservative and straight-laced as me, might have something to say about it. My father, as fun and welcoming to any and everyone as Honey is, will be a little easier to charm.
I have a feeling Honey will be the one to win them over when she finally meets them.
Just by being herself.
When I get to my office, I see Emily lingering near the door.
“Oh, Jesse, er, Giuseppe,” she says, her gaze cooling as she uses my real name. It softens into a look of sympathy as she continues. “I just wanted to stop by to see how you were doing.”
“Fine,” I say, walking past her into my office. “I wasn’t really sick yesterday.”
“I don’t mean about that.” She follows me in, gently closing the door behind her. She waits until I’m at my desk before speaking again. “I meant about…well…there’s this nasty rumor going around about—”
“Honey,” I finish for her. “If it’s reached the Admin law department then I suppose everyone’s heard about it by now. Unless it was someone in the Admin Law department who started the rumor in the first place?”
She sniffs and gives me an indignant look. “I certainly didn’t. Why on Earth would I?”
I simply raise one brow in response.
“It wasn’t me,” she insists. “The partners are talking about it. My boss Marie heard about it from David Winters. Someone named Todd, in your department I think, he spread it.”
Figures. I’ll have to pay him a parting visit before I go. Give him a nice New Jersey farewell.
“Did you come to gloat?”
“No,” she says, slowly walking to the seat across from me. “But, you have to admit, it doesn’t look good. I mean…really, Jes—Giuseppe.” I note the slight cringe as she uses my real name. A stark contrast to Honey’s reaction to it. “What possible future could you have with a woman like that? A Harvard Law grad dating a…well, whatever it is she does? Don’t you deserve someone more appropriate?”
I stare at her, realizing where she’s going with this.
Four years too late.
Thank God.
“Too bad she doesn’t play video games for a living,” I say, if only to remind her of her own plus-one.
Emily’s mouth tightens with displeasure. “Tyler is—”
“A good guy.”
Her eyes flash open in surprise. “Giuseppe, you really don’t get it do you?”
“Get what?” I say, impatient and ready to get on with leaving this place.
“I came to ABC for you. These past four years have made me realize the kind of man I want and…you’re it. Just think of how perfect we’d be together.”
I stare at her long and hard. Once upon a time, this would have been it, the pinnacle of my success. A partner—not even a wife—someone who would make me look good and understand my ambitions.
Now, I just find the thought, at best, depressing, at worst, horrifying.
“It’s not going to happen, Emily.”
“Is it Tyler? You don’t have to worry about him. As it turns out, well, I don’t see it working between us.”
“I don’t either. If he’s smart, he’ll get out now.” That causes her to start in surprise. “Find someone who appreciates him. Or, you could just let him go, which you seem to be itching to do. He deserves better.”
“My relationship with him is none of your business.”
“Ditto when it comes to my relationship with Honey, the woman I want to be in a relationship with.”
“Relationship?” A patronizing smile touches her lips. “From a woman who leaves pink feathers on your collar?”
I take a breath and lean in to give her a hard stare. “I’d take a million of those pink feathers over one more moment in your presence, Emily. Congratulations on making it to New York. Good luck here at ABC.”
I stand up, by way of dismissing her.
“I’m taking the rest of the day off. I have a show to attend tonight.”
Chapter Thirty-Two
Honey
“Are you nervous?”
“Are you kidding?” I reply with a grin. “If I can win you over, surely I can win the Pope himself over.”
“I’m pretty sure the Pope has nothing on my mother when it comes to…”
“Burlesque performers?”
Giuseppe laughs and rolls his tongue around in his cheek as he considers that one.
I’m finally meeting his parents for the first time. The only one I’ve met so far is his youngest sister, Carina, since she goes to Columbia University. She and I hit it off amazingly, though she did make it clear that she was nothing like the rest of the family, Giuseppe included.
According to him, his mother is very much the “serious” one in the family, no-nonsense, practical, even a bit stoic. So in other words, Giuseppe.
His father is the “fun” one, always making jokes and encouraging people to laugh, never taking things too seriously. So yes, yada, yada, yada, like me.
If anything, that should be encouraging about our future together.
He told his family that I was black. No need to surprise them too much. According to him, they took it in stride…whatever that means.
He thought it best for them to meet me before learning about my nightly occupation.
“It’ll be fine, Giuseppe.” I reach out and hug his arm, drawing him c
loser for a kiss. “Trust me.”
I have a pretty good feeling about it. Most people are perfectly fascinated by what I do, no matter how conservative they are. The man sitting next to me is the very one to prove that theory true.
“Mmm,” he says against my lips. “Too bad they can’t get this treatment. They’d be sold in a heartbeat.”
I pull away and give him a grimace. “I’m going to take that one the way it was intended.”
He winces. “Yeah, that came out wrong.”
The Uber driver slows down and Giuseppe cranes his neck to look out at the street we’re on. “Third one up ahead. The one with the brick siding.”
I follow his gaze, curiosity eating me up.
I’m not nervous at all. I live for the performance, especially with a new crowd. The challenge of winning them over stirs that internal seductress in me.
The small street is crowded with cars, no doubt from his huge family, so the driver lets us off a few houses down. I’m in a pink, flowing skirt with matching heels and a white sweater, feeling absolutely Easter-esque.
We stroll, arm in arm toward the house. I’m carrying a pot of lilies and Giuseppe has the “much needed” wine, which is apparently tradition for the family to bring in honor of an end to Lent.
Should make things even more fun.
I smile at all the children skipping around on the front lawn. There are definitely a lot. One of them is the first to catch me, a boy about seven years old stopping and staring with open curiosity.
Eventually, the others catch on, all of them looking with the same curiosity about Giuseppe’s new girlfriend.
I return a dazzling smile.
“Good afternoon!” I sing in a cherry voice.
Giuseppe begins the introductions. “Guys, this is—”
“Honey,” a woman a few years older than him says, with an amused but assessing look. She walks over and pulls Giuseppe in for a warm hug. She turns to me and matches my smile with a perfectly pleasant one. “Nice to meet you.”
“You must be…” I squint one eye and bite my lip as I twirl a finger her way. “Angela.”
She laughs raising her brow in appreciation, then turns to Giuseppe with a sardonic grin. “Good guess.”
She turns back to me with a slightly more welcoming smile. “Well, you might as well come on in and join the circus.”
“Who doesn’t love a circus?” I say, making her laugh.
Inside, it is indeed a circus. The house Giuseppe grew up in is neither tiny nor large, but with enough people, it might as well be a clown car for how many people are coming and going.
And the two of us are suddenly the main attraction.
Amid all the warm, familial hugs, Giuseppe introduces me around and I’m met with a mixture of polite smiles, similarly warm hugs, and the occasional teasing jab about what I’m doing with a “bum” like their brother. It reminds me of the sort of ribbing I grew up with from my own siblings.
Before we can get to his parents—his father is in the den watching TV and his mother is cooking in the kitchen—one of his brothers puts the first crack in the dam.
“Don’t I know you from somewhere?” he asks as he studies me. “I swear the name and the face…” His brow shoots up. “Hey, you’re—”
He stops himself before revealing too much. But the leak has already started.
I turn to Giuseppe with a pert smile, leaving it up to him to reveal the truth.
“She’s what?” a woman nearby asks.
“Well, I don’t want to talk outta turn or nothin’,” he says, grinning at Giuseppe.
I continue to smile at Giuseppe, who finally turns to me and sighs. “It’s up to you.”
That’s all the encouragement I need.
I turn back to Marco and beam. “Yes, that’s me. Chanteuse Femmes? I’m a burlesque dancer.”
“I knew it! Gina and me, we went to see that a while back after winning these tickets at something, I dunno what it was, but—” he stops and stares in wonder at me, then turns to Giuseppe. “How the hell did you land a girl like this?”
Giuseppe frowns.
I laugh.
Then, I take hold of my guy’s arm and hug it. “You’d be surprised what this one is like underneath that Clark Kent exterior.”
By now, the spotlight on us is even brighter, and the questions roll out nonstop.
“A burlesque dancer? Like with the feather boas and stuff?” Yes.
“Like from that movie, what was it?” Gypsy?
“You don’t get nervous or nothin’? Up on stage with all those people watchin’?” Nope!
“Care to give us a demonstration?” That one earns his brother John a smack on the head from his wife, to the amusement of everyone.
“What in the world is going on in here?”
That silences the family, who are absolutely eating this up. We all turn to see a surprisingly short woman who I recognize as Giuseppe’s mother. She has her hands on her hips and looks on with her brow furrowed in curiosity.
“Ma,” Giuseppe exhales, he takes my hand and leads the way through the crowd toward her. “This is Honey, the woman I told you about.”
She scans me up and down with a shrewd eye as though wondering what all the fuss is about me. “You the reason for the captive audience?”
“Well—” Giuseppe says, hesitating.
“I was just regaling you’re lovely family with tales from my adventures on the stage.”
I hear a snort of laughter behind us and grin in amusement.
“You see, I’m a burlesque dancer.”
I turn to Giuseppe. His expression is positively anxious as he stares at his mother.
“Hmm,” his mother says, scrutinizing me even more. “Like that Dita Von…whatever her name is?”
“Dita Von Teese?” I say brightening up in pleased surprise. “The comparison absolutely flatters me, but yes.”
She nods, then waves us into the kitchen.
I look at Giuseppe again. His expression is now unreadable.
We follow her to the stove, where she continues to stir something that smells absolutely heavenly.
“So,” she says, casting a quick look my way. “You and Giuseppe, hmm?”
“Very much so.”
She nods again and turns back to stirring. We both wait, Giuseppe’s palm going sweaty in my hand.
Finally, she sighs.
“When I first met your father I didn’t like him at all. He was silly, and didn’t take life seriously. ‘What kind of husband could he be?’ I thought to myself. I was dating Salvatore at the time. You don’t know him,” she says, casting a brief look to Giuseppe. “But he was who I thought I should be with. He worked at the butchers with his father. But…I couldn’t stop thinking about that Joey. That Joey who made all the boys laugh during mass. That Joey who sang idiotic songs just to get my attention. That Joey who had this smile that…” I see a slow smile creep to her face as she studiously focuses on the pot in front of her.
“My point is,” She turns to look at Giuseppe, then at me, then back to him again. “I dunno what my point is, but…” she stares at me, casting her eyes up and down to take me in. “I like her better than the other one—that Emily.”
There’s a low bar. I wisely keep that one to myself.
“If you like her enough to bring her to Easter Sunday dinner then I suppose I should give her a shot.”
My smile is positively dazzling. Before I can say something witty to win her over, another voice joins in.
“I hear there’s a performer in the house!”
We all turn to see a big man—at least now I know where Giuseppe get’s his height—with a smile that, well, I know why it leaves Giuseppe’s mother speechless.
I laugh and pop a hip to the side. “Guilty as charged.”
“Like that va-va-va-voom type?”
“Pa,” Giuseppe protests with a sigh.
“Even more guilty,” I say with a wink and a dimple, causing him to laugh
so hard I’m surprised the walls don’t shake.
“Maybe you can put me in one a ya shows. I look pretty good in a feather boa.” He dances, looking as though he’s washing his back with an invisible towel while shaking his hips.
Behind me, his mother mutters something that sounds like Italian.
Next to me, Giuseppe groans under his breath.
I just laugh.
“Oh, Mr. Castiglione, I think you and I are going to get along just fine.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Giuseppe
“Are you nervous?” Honey asks with a teasing grin.
“Honestly, I’m more ravenous than anything,” I say as we approach the small brick house on a huge stretch of open land. “What is that smell?”
“Either Daddy’s barbecue ribs or Uncle Leroy’s brisket. Probably both. They both overpower the best bit though, gram’s peach cobbler.” She squeezes my hand and grins. “At any rate, welcome to the barbecue Giuseppe.”
Neither New York nor New Jersey is known for any of what she mentioned, and right now, I honestly don’t care if her family hates my guts. I’ve got to taste whatever it is I’m smelling.
Instead of going into the house, Honey takes me through the patchy grass around back. The sound of people talking and laughing, not to mention the music blaring, just barely drowns out the sound of some kind of obnoxious buzz from the trees.
The weather on this Memorial Day weekend reminds me of the worst part of summer in New York. I’m glad I took her suggestion of wearing long shorts and a t-shirt, though neither do anything to beat the humidity. She assured me that this event would be the very definition of casual. Even Honey has dressed down to a jean skirt and a pink tank top and flip flops.
“Ah yes,” Honey says as we get closer. “You’re going to hear a lot of old school R&B. Lonnie has control of the music. In all fairness, it’s usually pretty good.”
Right now I hear “Love Train” playing, which definitely fits the vibe of the scene around us. There are a lot of people, being that Honey’s entire extended family seems to have been invited. I’m pretty sure they could populate a small town.
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