the middle of a date?” I ask, running the pad of my thumb over the fresh manicure of my index finger.
“Well, did he leave, leave?” Justice, the bartender asks. She places a fresh margarita in front of Shanda and hands me another Scotch.
“Or was it a few minutes?” Shanda inquires. “Could this ‘Toni’ who called him while he was eating you like hot biscuits on a Sunday morning have been his momma?”
“Shanda, I saw the damn phone while Santino was walking out of the room. Who do you know inputs their parents’ first name into their iPhones? Hell, my parents act bougie, but let me call my momma by her first name.” I toss back the shot.
Justice fills it, nodding her head in agreement.
“Thank you,” I pout.
“On me, please continue.”
“Are my drinks on you as well?” Shanda smiles.
I snort. “No, Doctor.”
Justice laughs softly and says, “I got the two of you tonight. It’s been a while since I’ve surrounded myself with black women who nurture and support each other. But, please do continue.”
I stare at two broken records and tell them how I left the second I saw him walking along the side of the building. “I went through the laundry room exit.”
“You saw the dick, though?” Shanda asks. “How much exaggerating were you—”
“I do not exaggerate unless in a boardroom, and even then I have statistical—”
“Did you see it?” Justice asks excitedly, placing her chunky arms along the countertop opposite us.
“I felt it!”
“Hmmm, well, you either embellished what you’ve told us or you walked out on King Kong?” Shanda sniffles. “That makes you stup. . .”
“Don’t say that,” Justice speaks up, like an old friend. “That tenacity makes Gina my shero.”
Shero rings in my ears. Although Shanda and I leave the bartender a hefty tip, I can’t let her down by answering Santino’s umpteenth call. This time, I do the mixologist one better and press the away button.
“How ‘bout that?” I murmur to my phone screen.
My latest secretary, who has yet to receive her RIP notice, glances at me. So I ask, “Nikki, do drug dealers take house calls?”
8
Santino
The only daughter of my dearly departed sister had called me. That was the sole reason I told Gina to wait for me. I don’t put pussy before family, but dammit, that proverb only regarded two people. Ma and Toni.
Antonia had apologized for calling so late on the cell phone I bought and said she understood why I’d blocked her father’s phone number. She’ll take forever to ask you something while Tony has his hand out, with expectation. Her father doesn't understand why she's so humble.
So I went outside to meet Big Tony to pay for a detective camp. He’d swore he’d cover the program by 9 pm that night. It was 8:45 when Toni called. My niece would’ve apologized long after the deadline if I hadn’t sworn on my sister’s grave that I wasn’t angry with her. This was all Big Tony’s fault for being an unreliable bastard.
I was outside three fucking minutes, and my future wife ghosted me.
Now, I’m seated in the backseat of a Lincoln Navigator with three Italians. Two are my uncles. One of them happens to be Piero, the guy who made those pizza pies. The other is Cecco in the passenger seat. Nobody important is in the driver’s seat.
Piero is at my side. “Toni called; she left a message. Needed some money.”
“I handled it.”
He pats my shoulder. “You’re a good man, like your father.”
Uncle Cecco says, “Yeah, you keep managing Big Tony’s responsibilities—”
“And I will continue to handle it so that nobody in the family thinks he needs to be bumped off.” Chuckling, I use the idiot words of my once brother-in-law. He thought it was all fun and games. Then he found himself hanging upside down outside of a window at the top level of Cecco’s skyscraper apartment. This was a year after my sister’s death when he swore he needed a job. He was given a simple assignment, which he was unable to fulfill. But Toni was a toddler; she deserved her father in her life. So, he dangled upside down until he passed out and threw up on himself.
“Well,” Piero muses. “We can’t wait for our little grandniece to become a detective. Nice to have someone on the right side of the law.”
“Speaking of…” Cecco clears his throat. “Who’s the legs, the tits, and the ass you brought into the place? Santino, why didn’t you introduce . . .”
“With all due respect,