by Rich Amooi
“Does it have to be a pianist?”
“No. Not at all. You know someone?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact. A guitar player. Not everyone can afford him though. He’s in demand because of his talent, so obviously his price will be much higher.”
“How much we talking here?”
“Well—”
“You know what? It doesn’t matter. He’s hired. I don’t want to take a chance. I’ll freak out if I can’t find someone. Tell him I want him.”
“Well . . . you can tell him yourself.”
“Fine.”
He placed his hands in his hips and smiled.
“You?”
“Why not?”
She felt tears coming on. “You would do that for me?”
“Of course.”
She charged forward and kissed him on the cheek. Then she gave him a big hug. “You are amazing. Thank you!”
“My pleasure. But you still need to tell me you want me.”
“Behave. You want another kick on the shins?”
He crinkled his nose. “Nah. I’ll pass.”
Natalie looked down and noticed he was still holding on to her after the hug. She looked up into his eyes and she saw something there. A sparkle. A kindness. A warmth. It felt more than just a hug from a friend. It felt intimate.
She stepped back and out of his arms. This had to be strictly business or she would lose control.
She placed her hands on her hips. Hopefully that would show more authority if the uniform didn’t do it. “I’ll let you play at my wedding under one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I have to pay you the going rate for a wedding musician. Miguel charged me $500.00 for the ceremony. Is that acceptable to you?”
“No. It’s not.”
She stared at Giovanni for a moment. He wanted more money? She wasn’t expecting that answer. “Okay, name your price.”
“There is no price. My services are free. Consider it my gift to you.”
“I told you I would only do it on one condition. That I pay you.”
“And I am telling you that I will only do it on one condition—that you let me do it for free. Take it or leave it.”
She let out a loud breath and tapped her foot on the floor. “You’re stubborn.”
Giovanni laughed. “Look in the mirror.”
Natalie stuck her tongue out at Giovanni and smiled.
“When’s the rehearsal?”
“Thursday at five, but you don’t need to be there for that. I just need to know the length of the song so we can time out the processional.”
“It’s three minutes and thirty-five seconds, but that’s probably going to be too long.”
“Oh.”
“I can do a custom version so it matches the timing of your walk down the aisle. I’ll come to the rehearsal—it’ll be easier that way. Plus it’ll give me a chance to practice the song in a different setting.”
She could tell, deep down, Giovanni was a good guy with a big heart. She was usually pretty good at reading people but was having a little bit of difficulty figuring out what his face was saying at the moment.
“Thank you” he said.
Thank you? Okay, maybe she had a lot of difficulty reading him.
She squished her eyebrows together. “What did I do?”
“You suggested that I call my ex and ask her why she didn’t show up at the church.”
“You did it?”
He nodded. “And she gave me an answer I wasn’t expecting.”
“She’s gay?”
“No! Why would you say that?”
She laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t help it. You were saying why she didn’t show up . . .”
“She was afraid I wouldn’t be able to support her type of lifestyle.”
“A lifestyle of Louis Vuitton and Louboutins?”
“For starters, yes. She also had an issue with my mom. My mom’s not a bad person and means well. She’s just a tad obsessed with babies.”
“Your mom is something, isn’t she?”
“You know you also kissed her on the night of your bachelorette party?”
Natalie stared at Giovanni. She knew he was lying—there was no way she had kissed his mom. Of course she had no way of knowing, but she could see that Giovanni had a slight grin on his face. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch him or kick him this time.
She took a few more seconds to think about it and then let her fist fly into the side of his arm.
“Ouch!” said Giovanni, laughing. “You like to hit a lot, don’t you?”
“You want another?”
“No! Man, you need to get laid.” He jumped back and threw his hands up in the air. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to say that. It just slipped out. Sorry. Really.”
She spared him another punch since it was the truth. She did need to get laid.
But she wasn’t going to tell him that.
Giovanni rubbed his arm. “Anyway, if you see my mother, run.”
“Don’t worry about me. I know how to deal with women like your mom.”
“You think so?”
“I know so. I’m not easily intimidated.”
Giovanni believed that. And she had a punch and a kick to prove it.
Natalie gave Giovanni her phone number and they agreed to talk the next day about the wedding music by phone or in person. Something felt very weird about that. Every day she saw him she was more convinced that she was marrying the wrong man.
Chapter Fourteen
The next day, Natalie worked her beat downtown. It was an uneventful day. A couple of speeding tickets, three parking citations, and a disturbance at a boutique—two women fighting over a Versace blouse.
She had the urge to ask if one of them was Giovanni's ex, but she resisted.
It frustrated her that people fought over dumb things when there were more serious things happening in the world. Like weddings.
She thought about her life, her goals, and her upcoming marriage. She should be happier, but she wasn’t. She had barely seen Jacks the last week except for at the barbecue. But the one thing she couldn’t shake from her thoughts were three words that Giovanni said.
Kissing is good!
She wondered what his kisses were like. And that’s where the guilt came in. She should be thinking of Jacks’ kisses, not Giovanni's. On the hike he mentioned he never saw the two of them kiss. When was her last passionate kiss with Jacks? When was the last time they went out and did something fun? And sex. What was that? Just the thought put her in a downer mood.
She arrived home, kissed Federico on the cheek, and headed to her room. She plopped down on the bed and sighed just as her phone rang. It was Jacks.
She rolled over on her back and stared at the ceiling. “Hi, honey.”
“Hey. Just checking in. How are things?”
Not good at all. “Good. Are you finally done with that case?”
“That’s why I’m calling. We won! I want to go out tonight to celebrate.”
She was happy for him, of course, but the last thing she wanted to do this evening was go out. She was tired and just wanted to throw on some comfy sweats and watch a movie. Preferably with some popcorn or a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. “Can we celebrate in? Besides, we’re going out tomorrow for the rehearsal dinner.”
She didn’t hear anything on the other end of the phone.
“Are you there?”
Jacks let a loud breath. “I’m here, but I can’t believe you.”
“What?”
“I’ve been working on this case for months. It’s been the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Yes, I may be district attorney soon, but I worked my ass off for it. All I want to do is celebrate out with my fiancée. Shouldn’t we be celebrating our milestones and successes together? I took the liberty of making a reservation. I didn’t expect you to be so indifferent.”
“I’m not saying we shouldn’t and I’m not indifferent at al
l. It’s just . . . I’m tired.”
She tried to think of the last time he let her decide on something to do. She liked a man who took charge and was decisive, but that didn’t mean that she should lose the power to make any decisions at all. They were supposed to be a team.
What about my needs?
“Babe?” said Jacks.
“Yes.”
“We can make it a short evening. Just a quick dinner and a toast, that’s all I’m asking. Then we can go home and you can have a bowl of your favorite strawberry ice cream. I promise.”
Strawberry? Seriously?
“Fine.”
“We’re going to that new Greek place. I’ll pick you up in twenty minutes. I’m just going to dust off the car before I come over.”
Of course.
So much for a relaxing evening.
The hostess walked Giovanni, Danny, and Stevie to the booth in the corner. They sat and were handed menus. Giovanni ran his hands across the huge table—it had place settings for eight people. There were only three of them, so it seemed like a waste of space. What if a larger group came in? He would feel bad if they didn’t have a table for them.
Giovanni held up his index finger to the hostess before she walked away. “Is there a smaller table available?”
The hostess looked to Stevie. “Oh. I thought—”
“No, no, no,” said Stevie. “This will work. I’m . . . feeling a little claustrophobic this evening.”
“Since when are you claustrophobic?”
“Since . . . I don’t know. You know me. I’ve got many other undiscovered issues.”
“Can’t argue with that.” He waved off the hostess. “Okay, I guess this will work. Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Enjoy your meal.”
Giovanni had wanted to try the new Greek place for the longest time. It was a pleasant surprise when Stevie and Danny called and said they were taking him there to celebrate his birthday.
He looked around the packed restaurant and nodded. “This place is popular.” He set the menu on the table. “I really don’t need to look at this. I’m having the moussaka. Read the rave reviews about it on Yelp.”
Danny put his menu on top of Giovanni's. “Me, too. Moussaka sounds tasty to me.”
Stevie placed his menu on top of the pile. “Sounds like a plan, Charlie Chan.”
“Moussaka is a weird word, isn’t it?” said Danny. “I know it’s tasty. But it’s weird.”
“General Moussaka executed another fourteen men last night,” said Stevie, trying to sound like a news reporter. “Film at eleven.”
Giovanni just stared at Stevie. “I don’t know where you get these things, but—”
“Hello, son! Happy birthday!” Before Giovanni could respond, his mom and dad slid into the booth. “How’s the birthday boy?”
“Fine.” He gave Stevie the death stare. “I wasn’t aware you were joining us.”
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” said Eleonora. “And by the look on your face I’d say it worked!”
That would be an understatement. He loved his parents. He knew there was probably a law somewhere stating that he had to. They’re the ones who brought him into this world. Sure, he was grateful for that. But he could only handle his mother in small doses. And once she got on to the topic of grandchildren he wanted to kill her. He gave Stevie another look.
Stevie shrugged. “I wanted to say something but you know how persuasive your mom can be.”
Eleonora gestured to Stevie. “I do recall you happily agreeing to keeping this a secret.”
“Ha! You said if I didn’t keep the secret you would detach my testicles, blend them with soy milk and strawberries, and make me drink it.”
Giovanni stared at his mother. He could picture her saying that.
“You know how Stevie can exaggerate!” she said. “Come on, I did not say soy milk.”
Giovanni didn’t believe her and continued to stare at her.
“It was almond milk, actually. There is a difference.”
Right. He prayed that his mother would behave and that they would be able to have a peaceful meal. He didn’t want any more surprises.
They ordered their meals and were enjoying drinks when Stevie pointed to a table nearby. “Hey Giovanni, look. It’s Federico’s granddaughter. What’s her name again?”
Giovanni turned so fast he almost pulled a muscle in his neck. “Natalie.”
Natalie and Jacks were being seated at a table across the way.
“The drunk fertile one,” said Eleonora. “You need to marry that woman and make babies since you didn’t even consider Choo as a viable option.” She pointed to Natalie. “What is she doing with that loser?”
Giovanni raised an eyebrow. “You know that guy?”
“Of course. He’s the hotshot attorney who just sent some mafia guy to prison. It was all over the news . . . though his name escapes me at the moment.”
“Jacks Cole,” said Giovanni.
“Right. More like Ass Hole. That guy takes on high-profile cases for the exposure so he can move up. He doesn’t do it because he cares about the people. He makes a lot of money.” She took a sip of her wine. “Probably to compensate for his tiny cock.”
“Mom, please.”
“I just call it like I see it. You need to go over there and show that woman your penis. It’s big, powerful, and ready to give me grandchildren. Be proud.”
“Have you ever heard of the expression ‘ladylike’?”
“Don’t you go acting like I don’t know about the size of your penis. I remember very well that growth spurt you had in junior high when you came down with that disgusting case of jock itch. Who had to spray your balls? Me, that’s who. Shouldn’t be a surprise, your girth, really. You got that from your father.” She smiled proudly and patted the top of Alfonso’s hand. “Good boy.”
“Enough, Eleonora.” Alfonso finally found his voice.
“But as you can see, your father has lost his balls, so I guess it all balances out in the end.”
Giovanni scratched the top of his hand and his mom noticed.
Shit.
He wasn’t going to tell her about the hike with Natalie or the fact that they both had poison oak. The last thing he wanted to do was give his mother hope that something would happen with the two of them.
Even though Giovanni wished something would happen.
Eleonora pointed to his hand. “You got jock itch on your hands now?”
He slid his hands under the table. “It’s nothing.”
Giovanni stared across the restaurant at Natalie. Even from there he could see she was looking lovelier than ever. No way he could go talk to her, though. Jacks would be able to read him like a book. He never was very good at hiding his feelings and he had feelings for Natalie. Truth be told, he wished she wasn’t marrying Jacks. It didn’t seem fair. And to top it off, who volunteered to play the music for the ceremony?
Me. The idiot.
Giovanni felt conflicted and needed to see her. Up close. “I need to slide out of the booth.”
Eleonora gestured in the direction of Natalie. “You going to go show her who has the balls?”
“No, Mom, I’m not. I’m going to go use the bathroom.”
“Of course. You need to tidy up first. Good call.”
He slid out of the booth after Eleonora and Alfonso.
The restrooms were located right behind Natalie’s table. Just a little peek, that’s all.
Jacks’ back was to Giovanni. Perfect. He neared her table as she chatted with Jacks. She didn’t look very happy.
Natalie looked up, caught a glimpse of Giovanni, and froze.
Jacks turned around, but Giovanni hid behind the nude statue of Discobolus before he could be seen. Then he snuck into the bathroom and washed his hands. They itched even more with the hot water.
What the hell am I doing? This is stupid.
He opened the bathroom door to head back to his table. The food would probably
be there when he got back. As he came out of the bathroom he turned and ran straight into Natalie. He knocked her over the bench into a fake pomegranate tree.
“Oh, God,” said Giovanni, reaching down to help her up.
She brushed off her dress and let out a deep breath. “You trying to kill me?”
“Sorry! What are you doing standing so close to the men’s restroom?”
“Never mind that.” She pursed her lips. “Did you follow me here?”
“I got here first and I saw you when you came in. You must be following me.”
“I am not following you.” She scratched the top of her hand.
Giovanni pointed to her hand. “What’s wrong?” He knew what was wrong, but he wanted to see if she would admit it.
“You know what’s wrong because you gave it to me.”
“I gave it to you? Come on! You were the one who pushed me in the bushes.”
Natalie poked him in the chest. “You said you got to first base with me!”
“I did get to first base with you! But you initiated it!”
An older woman passed between the two of them to enter the bathroom. She kept her head down and grinned. She’d obviously heard him and was trying to be discreet. The woman disappeared into the bathroom.
“I initiated it?” asked Natalie.
“Yes.”
“You’re not making this up?”
“No. You kissed me.”
She stood there in a daze.
Giovanni shrugged. “And I liked it. Even though it was a little sloppy.”
“Sloppy? Wait a minute . . . you liked it?”
He nodded.
She looked up at Giovanni and her gaze drifted to his mouth again.
He wished she would quit doing that. He so wanted to kiss her. Not a sloppy kiss. Not a kiss initiated by her. He wanted to be in control and kiss her good. Right now.
But it wasn’t going to happen. And he was just torturing himself thinking about it.
“Hello, Miss Fertile,” said Eleonora. “Has my son shown you his penis yet? It’s large. Very, very large.”
“Stop it, Mom.”
Eleonora ignored him and moved closer to Natalie. “We should talk sometime. Can I take you out to lunch?”
“No, Mom! Enough is enough.”
