50. Chapter 43
Dashiell
Mom picked the restaurant, so it’s a nice but casual place not far from my parents’ house.
When I arrive, dropped off by Wolfe, Grandma Novak is already holding court over the breadsticks. Kenny, beside her, is mid-laugh, clutching his sides and beaming at my grandma.
It’s sweet, seeing him here. Kenny’s parents were cool with him being gay (as they fucking should be!), but not so cool with the whole sex worker thing, and as soon as they discovered that he was uploading content to BeauFriends, they kicked him out of the house.
They no longer want to see him, and my family has been more than willing to welcome him into our little circle.
“There you are!” Grandma shouts when I arrive, causing several heads to turn. “We started on the bread. Hope you don’t mind.”
“I’m devastated. Is there any left?”
She makes a big show of shoving a piece in her mouth. “Not for you.”
“Ma, don’t chew with your mouth open,” Mom says, and then stands up to kiss my cheek. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in ages!”
“It’s that new boyfriend of his,” Kenny says, eyeing me like he knows that just a few hours ago I got the best dick of my life.
“Shut up,” I say, sliding into the seat across from him.
“Dashiell, language,” Mom says.
Ah, family.
“Kenny has some very exciting news to share with the table,” Grandma Novak says.
I glance at my best friend. He’s practically vibrating with excited energy.
“We were waiting for the dramatic reveal until you got here,” Mom adds.
“I’m intrigued. What’s the news?”
Kenny breaks into a huge smile. “I got a gig dancing at Lo Scandalo.”
I drop the butter knife. “What?!”
“What’s Lo Scandalo?” Grandma says. “Sounds fun.”
“It’s a gay club that we went to the other night,” Kenny says. “Dash’s boyfriend’s best friend owns it.”
“Ooh, is it also part of the mafia?” Grandma asks.
“Don’t talk about the mafia, Ma, it’s not polite.”
“But Dash’s boyfriend is in the mafia!”
“Grandma!” I turn to Kenny, trying to hide my nerves.
Any other time, I’d be excited for my best friend—dancing at a place as high-end as Lo Scandalo could be huge for his career—but, considering how I recently learned that the club is partly owned by Saturn Industrial Holdings and may or may not be a target of an arsonist…
I’m less than thrilled. “So, are you going to take it?”
“Of course I’m going to take it. It’s not just a one-night gig, either. I got to talking to Pepe after you and Lorenzo left the other day. I told him what I do and showed him some videos of me dancing. And some other videos—”
Grandma elbows him conspiratorially. “That’s my boy.”
“—And he said that he wanted to have me as a featured dancer! The headline dancer for three nights a week. We’re going to start with one week, and then if the response is good, he said it could be a steady gig! And, bitch, the paycheck is huge.”
Mom, of course, doesn’t get after Kenny for his language. That’s reserved for me.
“Congratulations, honey,” she says instead.
“That’s incredible, Kenny,” I force myself to say. “Seriously. You’ve worked toward something like this forever.”
“I know!” He’s practically glowing. “I’m going to be an actual headliner. There might even be a dressing room in my future!”
“To Kenny!” Grandma Novak crows. “Our favorite porn star!”
“Ma!”
“Hear, hear!” I say, though internally, I’m trying to think all this through. Will it be safe for him there? Can I protect him from the darkness I’ve found myself in? Is that even my job?
Grandma sets her mimosa glass down with a clink. “I want to come see it.”
Mom and I both shoot her sharp glances. “See what?” I ask.
“The club!”
I almost choke on my mimosa, but Grandma Novak just keeps going. “I want to see Kenny dance!” She says it like she’s a saint announcing a pilgrimage or something. “I haven’t been to a proper gay club since the eighties. I bet they’ve changed since then!”
“Grandma, I don’t know if—”
“Dashiell, I don’t think this is a debate,” she says severely. “I’ve already decided.”
Kenny is clearly delighted. “Absolutely! I love this idea. I’ll talk to Pepe and see if I can get you a table up in the front, and—”
I set my glass down firmly. “No.”
The word comes out harder and faster than I meant it to, and I feel everyone’s attention swivel toward me.
Kenny’s face drops. “Oh. Wow, okay.”
“Fuck,” I mutter (ignoring Mom’s glare at the word), “I didn’t mean it to come out like that.
” I want to walk back my refusal, because I can’t actually explain why I don’t want Grandma there, or Kenny for that matter, without going into everything—the fires, Giovanni, the shell company.
“I just…is it a good idea? For Grandma to go?”
“What, because I’m old?”
“No, that’s not—”
“Do you think I can’t handle a gay club?” Her voice has a real edge to it now. “I’m from San Francisco, baby. I once got caught in the Folsom Street Fair on my way to the farmer’s market.”
“I—Jesus, I didn’t know that—that’s not what I mean, either.”
“Then what is it?” Kenny challenges. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like my best friend isn’t supporting me.”
Mom’s expression is carefully neutral, clearly deciding if she’s going to intervene or not.
“I just…I have a bad feeling about that place right now. I can’t really explain it.”
Kenny crosses his arms. “A bad feeling about the club I’m about to headline. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dash.”
“Kenny, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Right.”
Fuck. On one hand, there’s the real potential of danger that anyone associated with Lo Scandalo faces. On the other, there’s the immediate, actual hurt on my best friend’s face. All he can see is me being unsupportive. And I hate that.
Grandma reaches across the table and takes my hand. “Dashiell. Is there something you’re not telling us?”
Something I’m not telling them? Where to start? I used to never keep secrets, and here I am keeping things from them. Lying about being in a relationship with a man in the mafia—all while I may or may not be falling for said mafia man.
I do my best. “It’s just…Lorenzo’s family is connected to the club.
And with everything going on since his father’s death, things are tense right now with them.
This has nothing to do with my respect for what you do, Kenny, or any lack of support.
It’s because I support you that I’m hesitant.
I’d just feel better if Grandma wasn’t there. ”
“What about me?” Kenny says, narrowing his eyes. “Would you feel better if I wasn’t there?”
The answer, obviously, is yes, but I can’t say that.
“I know you can take care of yourself,” I say instead.
Grandma studies me over the table, her expression equal parts calculating and grandmotherly. “Okay, Dash. I’ll wait. But as soon as your boyfriend clears up his family drama, I want front row seats! And I’ll see if the girls from the salon want to come.”
I sigh. “Deal.”
“And you, mister,” Grandma says, turning to Kenny, “are getting a bouquet from me on opening night. Roses. Unless you want poppers.”
“Grandma, how the hell do you know what poppers are?”
Mom rubs her forehead. “Where’s that waiter? I need to order something stronger.”