The Beautiful People (The New Mafia Trilogy)

by Fechenda, E. J.

  A month after the hits in NYC, things had started to return to normal. The senior family members had heard nothing linking the crimes to Philly aside from the initial news broadcast. I returned to work and Miranda ran interference with her dad. I had slowly forgiven Dominic and we worked on repairing our physical relationship. The attack had left me uncertain about my body and disconnected with my emotions. We hadn’t made love yet and he was patient with me while I healed.

  I was working the gun check. It was a Saturday night and the cool crisp of fall hung in the air. Rocco Nucci and his boys rolled in. Rocco winked at me as he walked past the metal detector. He wouldn’t be checking his gun tonight. “How ya doin’, doll?” he asked me when he stopped in front of the counter. “You’re Dom’s girl, right?”

  “Yeah,” I answered hesitantly. Usually they didn’t pay any attention to me when they arrived.

  “That’s right, you’re the little spitfire that Mr. Genovese took a liking to the last time he was here.” My body went rigid at the mention of that name. “That was about a week before he was whacked, wasn’t it?” He stared at me with his dark, beady eyes. I shrugged my shoulders and feigned disinterest. I hoped he didn’t see the panic on my face before I looked away. Joey B. stood a few feet away listening to the exchange.

  “You know I heard a rumor that your boy had something to do with Genovese’s untimely death…know anything about that?” Rocco continued. He was fishing for information and I wasn’t going to bite.

  “I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.”

  “I’m not the only one who has heard the rumor. It’s spreading pretty fast. I’d tell your boy to watch his back,” he warned and stepped away from the counter. I managed to hold it together until he was around the corner. The second he was out of sight I fell apart. I was shaking so bad that the teeth rattling in my head was louder than the music in the club. Joey B. radioed for Grant and he was up in seconds. Joey B. filled him in on the exchange and Grant’s eyes narrowed. When he turned back to face me I could tell he was in protective brother mode by the way he placed his hands on my shoulders, as if transferring the weight to his.

  “Nat, that guy was trying to pry information from you. He doesn’t know anything.”

  “But, he was so dead on. No pun intended.”

  “The Nuccis are trying to assert themselves again…taking advantage of the change of leadership in New York,” he reassured me. “Trust me, there aren’t any rumors going around or we would have heard about it. Are you going to be okay?” He studied my face with his eyes.

  “I’m fine,” I lied. I needed a drink badly. Grant looked at me skeptically before he left. My mind was preoccupied the rest of the night. Rocco’s warning kept replaying in my head as if on a loop. Sooner or later the truth was going to surface. It usually did. When the Genovese family found out it was Dom and Grant who executed the boss of the most powerful mafia family in the country, they would retaliate. The ashtray taste returned to my mouth so I chewed a piece of gum. It took the edge off, though not as good as a cocktail. Once the club had emptied and the last gun had been returned, I headed straight to Dom’s bar. The urge for a drink was close to uncontrollable by the time the club closed.

  At first Dominic didn’t want to give me a drink, but after he heard about my run in with Rocco, he figured I needed one. The first drink barely took the edge off.

  “You doing okay?”

  “No,” I answered honestly.

  “Well, Uncle Marco has his feelers out. If he hears anything close to what Rocco suggested, we’ll be the first to know.”

  “I hope he doesn’t hear anything.”

  “Me too,” Dom agreed.

  “So are you meeting with the boys after work?” I asked.

  “Nah - I figured we could hang out. I don’t want you out of my sight.” He winked at me.

  “Hmm…what did you have in mind?”

  “I figured we could smoke up and hit Chinatown?” This suggestion usually got my appetite going, but that still hadn’t returned to normal. Dominic frowned slightly at my lack of enthusiasm. “…or we could go to Blue and have a few drinks – let off some steam,” he opted.

  “I like that idea better.” He looked disappointed that I chose a rowdy club over a quiet dinner. Alcohol was more appealing to me than Dim Sum.

  “What if we take tomorrow night off and we run away to Atlantic City for a couple days instead?”

  “You mean get out of Philly?” I asked, excited at the prospect of getting away from everything. Dominic must have picked up on my change of attitude and grinned. His dimples flashed and it reminded me that I hadn’t seen him smile like that in a while. He must be excited to get out of town too.

  “Yeah, it’ll be nice. Some ocean breezes, some relaxation. Just you and me.”

  “Yes! Let’s do it!” Then I hesitated. “Will we be able to get out of work tomorrow night?” I asked doubtfully.

  “That won’t be a problem. I’ll talk to Miranda.” He ducked out from underneath the bar and walked to Miranda’s office. He rapped on the door, waited a few seconds and then disappeared inside. I sipped on my drink and felt giddy with excitement. The thought of the salt air and being away from Crimson was an appealing one.

  “Hey Nat. How are you?” Grant interrupted my thoughts.

  “I’m good.”

  “All recovered from what Rocco said earlier?”

  “Yes. I’m not going to let him get to me.” I wasn’t about to let those thoughts ruin my ideal getaway either.

  “Have you spoken to Brittany lately?” Grant asked.

  “No. I haven’t actually.” Brittany had moved back to her apartment two weeks earlier. She and Dominic had a huge argument over the fact that he refused to bring cocaine back to the condo for her. Dominic had returned home after work and Brittany was waiting for him. She was completely wasted from sucking down a liter of gin. When he showed up empty handed she got belligerent and a shouting match ensued. I tried to intervene but was so drunk I could barely stand up, let alone mediate. Most of the fight is a little fuzzy but I remember the final words that were exchanged.

  “If you want coke, get up off of your drunk ass and get it yourself,” Dominic shouted.

  “I fucking will you inconsiderate fuck!” Brit fired back.

  “I’m an inconsiderate fuck? Who has let you stay here no questions asked? You drink all fucking day and eat all the food. No wonder Natalie is wasting away over there.” He gestured to me, who had helplessly plopped down on the sofa; even standing took a lot of energy these days. “There isn’t any food for her to eat.”

  “Dom, it’s not like that…” I attempted to interject.

  “So, Brit, are you going to go out and get your own drugs?” Dominic challenged. Brittany stared at the front door with trepidation, like a dragon was guarding it.

  “I…I will.” Brittany ran to the guest room and we could hear her throwing stuff around. I went after her to go check on her. She was in a rage and chucked a comb at me. Amazingly I managed to dodge it.

  “Whoa, Brit, calm down. It’s just me,” I held up my hands in surrender.

  Brittany had tears pouring down her puffy face – it was puffy from all of the booze and her eyes were red and swollen. “Nice fucking boyfriend you have there,” she sneered.

  “I’ll admit things got out of hand. But you also have to admit he has a point. We have hidden away up here – we’re pretty pathetic,” I looked at the collection of empty bottles on the dresser. “We need to get our shit together.”

  Brittany sighed, defeated. “I know. But I don’t think I can.” She looked at me and I could see the anguish in her eyes. I felt that in time I would be okay, but Brittany would probably be haunted the rest of her life.

  I walked over and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around me and hugged me back. “We’ll get through this together.” I squeezed her one more time before releasing her. She looked up at me with watery eyes.

  “Promise?�
�

  “I promise.”

  She moved out the next morning and we hadn’t spoken since. I called her and left her messages, but she never called back. There were Brittany sightings; she was spotted at various bars completely out of control. Some of the regular dealers that hung out at Crimson also mentioned that Brittany had scored various drugs. It was a relief knowing that she wasn’t holed up in her apartment – at least she was getting out.

  “Have you talked to Mom lately?” Grant asked next.

  “No.” I admitted.

  “Nat, you can’t keep avoiding her. I can’t cover for you much longer. You should hear

  the crazy shit she’s coming up with.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, first she thought you were pregnant and that’s why you’ve been avoiding her. Now she thinks that Dom is beating you.”

  “What! She’s lost her mind.” I had enough to deal with now I had to add my mom’s crazy notions into the mix. “Fine, I’ll call her,” I promised. “But after Dom and I get back.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Atlantic City for a couple days - Dom is talking to Miranda now about getting tomorrow night off.”

  “Nice. I think that will do you some good.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  “Alright. I’ll hold mom off for a few more days, but you really need to call her. She’s worried about you.”

  “I know.” Go figure my mom would start to worry about me once I got in a relationship.

  She would probably be the only mother to approve of my previous pattern of getting drunk and hooking up with random strangers – if she only knew.

  Dominic came out of Miranda’s office with a mischievous grin plastered across his face.

  “What are you up to?” I pried.

  “You’ll see.”

  “So, we got tomorrow night off?” He nodded. “When do we leave?”

  “Let’s leave tonight.”

  “Okay!” I sprung off the bar stool and grabbed my purse.

  “You kids have fun,” Grant hollered after us, sounding more like a dad than a brother. I rolled my eyes, but he didn’t see because my back was to him. Dominic and I quickly left.

  Despite the chill in the air, we kept the convertible top down on my car and zipped East on the Atlantic City Expressway. The second we crossed the bridge and left Philly behind, I felt freer. I hadn’t realized how oppressive the city had become. The urge to drink seemed to grow less intense the further we drove. At some point, despite my hair whipping around me and occasionally stinging my face, I dozed off.

  Dom woke me up as he pulled up in front of the Borgata. The bright lights of the awning shocked me and I had to squint to let my eyes adjust. The valet held the door open for me and I stepped out. Dominic handed the man a twenty with one hand and grabbed mine with the other. A bell hop appeared out of nowhere and retrieved our bags.

  We walked up to the front desk to check in. Even though it was almost five in the morning, the lobby buzzed with energy. Everywhere I looked there were well-dressed people; a parade of suits and sequined dresses. I felt a little self conscious in my work clothes. We had stopped long enough at home to each pack a bag, but didn’t bother to change.

  “Hi, we’re here to check in.”

  “Last name on the reservation please,” the concierge asked in a bored drawl.

  “Grabano.” At the mention of Dominic’s last name, the concierge’s attitude changed. She stood up straighter and became very attentive.

  “Yes, sir. Someone called ahead and made all the arrangements for you. Here’s the key to your suite and your massages are scheduled for 2 p.m., after brunch.”

  I don’t know how Dominic did it, but he had arranged a spa getaway in under three hours. That would explain his mischievous grin earlier and I suspected that the person who called ahead was Miranda. He pulled out a roll of hundred dollar bills. “This should cover it,” he said and handed the woman a stack.

  “Oh, and the GM asked me to give this to you.” She handed Dominic an envelope with the Borgata logo.

  “Thanks.” We stepped away from the counter and made our way to the elevators.

  “What’s in the envelope?” I pried.

  “Gambling receipts.”

  “What for?” Gambling wasn’t one of Dominic’s interests.

  “Tax audit – it never fails that the IRS audits me and these receipts help document some of my income.”

  “Oh. That makes sense.”

  “There’s some in here for you too.”

  “For me? Why?”

  “Your income isn’t exactly being reported. When was the last time Crimson gave you a paystub?”

  “Never. I just get cash.”

  “Exactly.” He shoved the envelope into a side pocket on his suitcase. We were the only ones on the elevator when it reached the top floor. We stepped out onto plush carpet and I followed Dominic down the hall. The bell hop was waiting for us at the end. Dominic slid the key card into the lock and the door swung silently open to reveal an enormous suite. I stopped in the doorway and stared. Never in my life had I stayed in a hotel room this luxurious. The suite was easily the size of our condo. My attention was immediately captured by the floor to ceiling windows. The night sky was beginning to lighten with the new day and I could already envision how magnificent the sunrise would be over the Atlantic Ocean that lapped at the shore stories below.

  All the décor and the furniture were in various shades of rich chocolates and vanillas that blended together to create a lavish, yet cozy atmosphere. A living room area was set-up near the windows, but the focal point was a fire flickering in the gas fireplace. Above the mantel sat a flat screen TV. While Dom tipped the bell hop I inspected the room like a child at Disney World; something would capture my attention and I would run over to it, then something else would catch my eye.

  Through open double doors off of the living room and dining room, I spied the bedroom and ran off to check it out. I flopped on the bed and took in my luxurious surroundings. I really was Cinderella in her castle. My Prince walked through the doorway and paused to look at me. I smiled at him and beckoned for him to join me. He didn’t hesitate and soon had me in his arms, curled up tight next to him. I was getting used to being touched again and felt safe with him. Feeling more serene in this unfamiliar bed than in our own, I fell asleep. I fell asleep without the need for a million drinks or bong hits to render me unconscious.

  Dominic’s lips brushed against my cheek and my eyelids fluttered open. The room was bright with sunlight.

  “Morning Sunshine,” he whispered.

  “Unnn,” I grumbled. “What time is it?”

  “Time for brunch, come on get up.” He clasped my hand and yanked me up into a sitting position. I stretched and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. We had only slept for about six hours, but it was the best night’s sleep I’d had in over a month. There was a light rap on the door and Dominic went to answer it. I heard him talking to someone in the other room. I slipped into the bathroom and shut the door.

  The bathroom was the one room I didn’t inspect and it was like I had unknowingly saved the best for last. I thought the bathroom at our condo was spectacular, but this one put it to shame. Between the marble bath tub and the giant walk in shower, I didn’t know which one to choose. I decided on a bubble bath and ducked into the shower at the end to rinse off the suds and wash my hair. The plush towels were warm from the heated shelf they were stacked on and big enough to wrap around my body twice. A soft, oversized cotton robe hung on the back of the door and I reached for it. As I did, I caught a glimpse of my body in the mirror above the marble vanity. My ribs stuck out and the outline of my vertebrae was clearly visible. My skin, usually fair with rosy undertones, had taken on a sallow tone.

  My reflection was unsettling. I knew I had lost weight, but hadn’t really paid attention to how much. What was most disturbing is I almost didn’t recognize the shell I had become. I ran my hand across
my ribs and felt the closeness of the bones. My stomach, normally flat, had become concave. My eyes sunk into my head and my cheekbones jutted out like fins from my sunken cheeks.

  The encounter with Luigi Genovese had taken its toll. The fact that he had been murdered by Dominic didn’t make a difference. The damage was already done. I sighed, feeling the self pity creep in. This time something different happened. Instead of retreating into sadness and fear, I got angry. The anger ruptured forth from some deep reserve. I refused to be the victim anymore. Mr. Genovese was dead, he paid for his crime, but I didn’t have or shouldn’t have to pay for it any longer. I wanted my life back. Tying the robe tight around my too thin waist, I stood up straight with an assurance I hadn’t possessed since before my attack.

  Dominic was sitting at the dining room table drinking coffee. I sat down next to him and poured a cup. Although I wasn’t hungry, I forced myself to eat. Dominic had ordered an omelet for me that was stuffed with ham, mushrooms and Swiss cheese. I took a bite and discovered that it was quite tasty and I ate another forkful. Dominic stared in shock.

  “I don’t believe it, you’re eating!” He was smiling like he had just won the lottery.

  “Um hmm,” I acknowledged with my mouth full. I took a sip of fresh squeezed orange juice to help clear my throat. “I need to. It’s time.”

  Dominic didn’t say anything; he just continued to stare in disbelief as I managed to eat half of the omelet. That was all I could consume. My stomach had shrunk and it filled up quickly. I set the napkin on the table in surrender. It had taken a lot of effort to eat that small amount, but I could already feel my body thanking me; it had been running on empty these past few weeks, and the fuel was quickly absorbed. I leaned back in the chair and stretched, feeling full and satisfied. The sun pouring in the windows warmed the room. The Atlantic sparkled for as far as my eyes could see and sailboats dotted the horizon.