Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Joey
The family is meeting at Uncle Gio’s house in twenty minutes, and I can’t stop thinking about Jenny. Why is she so pissed at me? She’s the one who used her real name to fill out the information at the club. And as the owner, I have every right to know about its members.
And what the fuck did she mean I’m ‘the biggest disappointing dose of reality.” I’m a fucking delight, and I’m not responsible for whatever lies Nonna told her about me.
Although… replaying that moment in my head, did she say she had a crush on me?
Or at least the fictional version of me from Nonna’s imagination.
My stomach did a weird little flip thing when she said that.
Nope. Don’t do that. Do not go there.
I give the dog another treat. Mostly because he keeps staring at me. I toss it at him, and it bounces off his nose and lands on the floor behind him. He circles around, sucks it up, and goes back to sitting and staring at me.
“I don’t know how many you’re supposed to have. But growing up, I was only allowed two cookies after school.” I toss him his twenty-sixth cookie. “Benefits of being an adult—you can eat whatever you want.”
I need to get going.
I turn back to the dog. “Don’t throw up.” That seems like solid advice. Before closing the door, I stick my head back in and say, “Bye.” I can’t fucking believe I’m talking to a dog right now.
As soon as I turn on my car, my phone rings through the speakers and scares the shit out of me. It’s Silvio, my project manager at the Crystal Gardens building. I cut him off before he talks. “I’m off the clock, man. Unless the place is on fire, I don’t want to hear about it. Family issues.”
Silvio rushes, “Yeah, I know. Sorry about that, but I got a nastygram from Unit Eighteen B.”
“Eighteen B. Corner unit, marble counters?”
“Quartz,” Silvio corrects. “She was one of our earliest buyers, and I’ve got an offer on the unit for two hundred over market value. She’s already locked in at one hundred below market value, and we’re taking a bath on her unit.”
“Ice her out. You know what to do,” I say while watching the traffic. A car pulls out and almost hits me. I honk and flip them off. Fucking savages.
The project manager waits for my yelling to stop before he continues. “I figured that’s what you would say, but I wanted to check in.”
“Is she the only one?”
“Yeah, the other early buyers are real estate investment douches. They’ll pay an adjusted rate if we upgrade a few cosmetic things.
Easy. The girl? We pushed back her closing date by a few months and told her the inspector found some concerning wiring issues.
I could offer her Nine F for her locked-in price. ”
“I literally don’t give a shit. Isn’t this what I pay you to do?” I drive past a kid—a teenager type—walking three dogs. I wonder if he works for Jenny or if he just has a lot of pets. “Hey, you got any dogs?”
“A Frenchie named Bread. Why?”
“How many treats do you give him?” I turn down my uncle’s street; everything is automatic and muscle memory.
“I give him two when I leave in the morning. I can’t confirm how much he gets from the wife and kids.”
“Hmm, is twenty-six too many in one sitting?”
“How big is the dog? How big are the treats?”
My uncle’s house already has a used car lot of extra vehicles in the driveway. Damn it. I’m going to have to park on the street. “The dog is small, twenty pounds or so, and the treats are about the length of my thumb.”
Silence on the other end of the phone. “Yeah, that is way too many. Don’t be surprised if you have to clean up dog puke when you get home.
” There’s another long silence. “Dog puke is the worst. I’d rather deal with baby shit than chunky, hot dog vomit.
Careful where you step,” he says, and then hangs up.
Fuck. This day couldn’t get any worse. At least my family has my back.
The house is already loud. I can hear it from the yard. I wave to one of our security guys monitoring the perimeter. He acknowledges me then calls me an asshole under his breath. What the fuck did I do?
Whatever. But as soon as I enter the house, all conversation comes to a screeching halt. I’m closing the door behind me when tiny Waverly pushes me with all of her weight and the door slams. The door handle is digging into my lower back, and I’ve got nowhere to go.
“What the fuck did you do to Jenny?”
I jolt back, hitting my head against the wreath Aunt Dawn has hanging inside the house, which is fucking weird, if you ask me. And why is Jenny back in the conversation?
“The dog walker? Nothing.”
My Irish cousin pushes me again. “I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t believe me? Me? You’ve known me your entire life.”
She pushes her finger into my chest. “That’s exactly why I don’t believe you.”
I take her finger and push it aside, sliding past her to tread farther into the house. “And how long have you known her?”
“Twenty-four hours, maybe less.”
“And you’re picking her over me. Family. Family who’s had your back through every fucking problem?”
I slam my hands on my hips, posing because otherwise I don’t know what I’ll do with them.
Here’s the thing, Waverly was always closer with Uri and Izzy than she was with Donny, Thiago, or me.
And that fucking stings, because she’s literally my cousin.
Donny and Izzy are from my dad’s side. But Wave?
She is the last remnant of my mother’s side.
It’s not something we talk about ever. And for some reason, I thought that would make me different in her eyes.
But no. To her, I’m the same sort of fuck-up as Donny. And that’s the most insulting part.
Waverly gets on her tiptoes to meet my gaze and mirrors my pose. “I like her. She’s funny and smart and knows all about Amanda Chase and even has excellent Kiki theories. If lines are drawn, I’m picking her over you.”
“Damn, Wave.” This fucking hurts.
“Yeah, because since I’ve known you my whole life, I know you not only probably started it, but did something stupid.”
I look over at the rest of the family. My cousins, uncles, and aunts all watch, but collectively roll their eyes at me too. “Can you believe this shit?”
Uri—who is in the top ten of my favorite humans—shakes his head. “Dude, I go where Wave goes.” This is an expected betrayal, but still.
Dimitri—my employee and one of my tenants, the man who survived the move to America because of my generosity—shrugs. “I’m with Uri.” Oh, fuck you.
Donny is sitting in the corner, sunglasses on and rubbing his temples. “I’m still drunk and stoned, don’t ask me.”
My support base is dwindling quickly. Izzy—my cousin, and one of the few people I truly care about—crosses her arms and turns away. “I’m on whatever side Alana picks.”
Izzy’s fiancé, Lance, adds, “I’m team Alana all the way. She’s my best friend I’m not sleeping with.” He wraps his arms around Izzy and snuggles into her neck.
Oh Lance, what a mistake you’ve made. Admitting in front of the whole clan that you’re actively sleeping with the daughter of a mob boss? Tsk Tsk, my friend. It doesn’t matter that they’ve been engaged for a while now, and been living together for a year, tradition is tradition.
Uncle Gio storms into the room, eyes blazing with the misplaced righteous anger of a father. “The fuck?”
But Aunt Dawn places her hand on her husband’s arm. “She has an eleven-year-old son, we don’t have to pretend she’s a virgin. That ship sailed years ago.”
Uncle Gio narrows his eyes and makes the “I’m watching you” gesture at Lance. Then he turns back to me. Finally! He’ll have my back. And then he says, “Picking Alana’s side is the safest option.”
Et tu, Uncle Gio? Damn.
I push my way to the kitchen, where Thiago and his family are fussing over the food. As soon as I walk in, I feel the icy sting of twenty cold shoulders. How the hell does this news travel so fast?
Reaching for a plate, my hand is whacked by a spatula. I’m not sure who does it, but the aunts and wives glare at me. This is getting ridiculous.
“I didn’t do anything wrong!”
Thiago’s wife whips around, brandishing a butter knife. “You did. I’ve known you for a long time, and at the very least you said something stupid. At worst, you hurt her on a deep and personal level.”
Thiago steps behind his wife and carefully takes the knife out of her hand. “Just say the words, ‘I’m sorry.’”
“I’ve been with this family for thirty fucking years. I’ve fought in the trenches. Lied, stole, and bled for you. Did it ever cross your mind that the dog walker is a crazy bitch?”
The chill in the air changes to a fiery rage. Thiago’s wife glares at me. “Now you’re disrespecting Nonna. She picked Jenny to care for Kingston, and I will not have you disparaging Nonna’s memory. Out!” She points back to the living room.
Fuck. I find a corner where no one will talk to me and start playing Bubblegum Princess Sparkles on my phone, eventually flipping over to fan theories for the next season of the Knights of the Night for the rest of the evening.
Anything to distract me from the painful truth—that Jenny has infiltrated my life.
My family would pick her over me. How the hell did this happen?
There’s a shadow over me and a nudge to my foot. Lance. Fucking traitor. He rubs his neck and shifts his weight back and forth. “I was wondering if you wanted to be a groomsman for the wedding. It would mean a lot to me and to Izzy.”
“Fuck you,” I grumble, followed by a quiet, “Yes.” I flip my phone over on my leg. “Who’s going to be your best man? Alana?”
He checks his phone and slides it back into his pocket. “Alana will be a maid of honor along with Waverly. I think she wanted to wear a dress instead of a suit. Thiago will be my best man.”
“Thiago?”
Lance lifts his hands up. “We’ve been friends for twelve years now. I was in the room the day he met his wife.” He mumbles under his breath, “Alana was the one who set them up.”