“While I haven’t laughed or joked with the patrons in here since you and the doctor.” She pours another round. “Before that, never. I will tell you that he gets the majority of the tips.”
I down the alcohol. “That stops today.”
A bizarre mask descends on Justice’s cute brown face when I walk away from the bar. I head toward the ladies’ room where there’s an ATM in the corridor. I take out the max limit. While strutting back over, I hold out my hands a little to bring about my equilibrium. Damn, I mentally calculate the individual shots from the plane and the few I had just now.
“Here you go!” I slap the stack of $100s on the table.
“Wow, wow . . . Gina, I can’t serve you this much alcohol. And something tells me you’re not feeling generous tonight, regarding other patrons.” Justice shakes her head.
“I don’t need it,” I say, tears clouding my gaze.
“Honey, you need . . .” She grimaces, pouring another shot. “Last one.”
“I have so much money, Justice,” I slur, guzzling the drink. “What if Santino just needed money? All he had to do was-was . . . When you love someone, you support them, right?”
Justice is gathering the hundreds of dollars and putting them into an envelope. “That’s right, honey. When you care for someone, you have their best interest at hand.”
How did I not notice the signs? Flipping me around like a stack of cards? The fucking ballroom dancing as a kid with his mom? But in general, ballroom dancers are stiff. The only stiff variable on the video I saw with Santino and Cora was his dick. His dick had my name on it! It was MINE. I say pointedly, “Justice, yes. You have their best interest at hand. You don’t let a bunch of women suck your dick and you don’t . . .”
“Honey, neither of us has the tool for that activity, but I understand.” She sympathizes, pouring vodka into a large glass.
I start to guzzle, it ends on a gag. “Yuck! It tastes like water.”
“Girl, it’s spring water. People love that label, trust me.”
“Justice, I didn’t come in here for water. I came to drink until I can’t remember. All I seem to do is remember,” I growl. “This is what harboring unforgiveness looks like. Being unforgiving is like drinking poison and hoping the other person gets hurt. My pastor said that. I just need a few more drinks to speed up the process.”
Justice rests her chunky forearms on the counter. “Y'know what, it sounds like you have a mighty wise pastor. Nelson Mandela had a similar sentiment as well. Nevertheless, you came to the bartender with a conscience. I’d rather have a heart-to-heart with you than receive misery tips. How does that sound?”
“Yes! A heart-to-heart!” I blubber, grabbing my phone. While she’s suggesting I ‘not do that’ in a therapeutic tone, I dial Santino’s number. He answers on the first ring.
“Hello, you heartless bastard!”
“Gina, listen—”
“No, no, no. . .” I chuckle. “You think you can do me any which ah-way you’d like. Flip me, poke me with that gremlin in your pants!” I recall my first instincts and how weary I'd been of men who can toss you like an acrobat!
I shout the name of the bar and the cross streets into the phone. “Come see me, Santino. Soon as I set eyes on you, I’m going to . . . I’ll wrap my fingers around your th-throat . . .”
In a flash, I’m torn by a memory of how I wrapped my fingers around his neck one time we were making love.
Gathering the power I feel in that moment, yet dismissing carnality, I square my shoulders. “I’m a Galloway. You do not mistreat a Galloway. I will kill you. You’ll know what it means to be dead to me! Merry Christmas, asshole!”
37
Santino
A few days ago, I went into Galloway Enterprises to speak with Gina. She had her secretary come down with $750–the hourly going rate for a private party—saying I wasn’t worth a penny more.
Mere minutes ago, Gina had Christmas gifts dropped off for my mother and Antonia—after costing my job! Now, she’s threatening my life?
I clutch the phone to my ear, listening to the crazed lunatic. A fusion of sexual frustration and a massively bruised ego cause me to sit silently. Dig your grave, sweetheart! Gina The fucking Grinch Galloway has another thing coming if she thinks we’re over. A smile slices through my