“You want your own racket?” This surprised her.
“Yeah, why not?” He gave her a wink. “No 401K but it’ll sure pay out better than your crummy stock market.”
Lucy was not happy he wanted to get in deeper with Gino.
On the customer side of a worn velvet rope, they stopped near a brass sign that read Manager. “We’re here to see Mr. Narcisco,” Joey said to the burly looking dude with arms the size of Lucy’s legs.
The dude leered at Lucy. “Strippers audition next door.”
“I. Am. Not. A. Stripper.” Lucy glared at him.
“Tell Mr. Narcisco that Joey and his sister are here to see him, as requested.”
The man took his time about entering the office.
“Joey.” Lucy stepped forward, trying to catch her brother’s shifty gaze. “I’m not doing anything else illegal.”
“I know. I know.” Joey pulled her closer. “We just gotta be polite.”
The burly man returned and motioned them around the rope.
The enforcer’s inner sanctum was gold and red velvet. A tacky life-size picture of Sinatra hung behind his desk.
“Joey.” Gino Narcisco, aka the Chicago-based Maceonelli family’s enforcer, greeted him brusquely. “Glad you could help me out with this.” Gino ambled around his desk, displaying a physique that looked like he could bench press 300 pounds. He stopped in front of them and swayed side to side, making Lucy feel like an involuntary snake charmer.
She stepped back and tightened her ponytail.
“Ah, Bellissima.” Gino reached for her hand and kissed her cold knuckles with old-world courtesy. “This must be the beauty who managed to get a private meeting with Alec Gerald.” Gino eyed her up and down from behind his dark glasses. Lucy sensed he was more than your average wise guy, a constrictor with the bite of the death adder. “Those are beautiful gems on your ears.”
“Thank you—”
“What are those? Emeralds? Peridots?”
“They’re green sapphires.”
“Sapphires, no kidding?” Gino leered again at her ears.
“Look, Mr. Narcisco, we had a deal.” Lucy set the plastic bag with the expensive outfit on his desk. “I got the card for you. Joey’s debt is paid in full. We’re square.”
The enforcer spread his hands wide like her words shocked the gold rings off his fingers. “Lucy, Lucy.” He shook his head. “We aren’t doing business yet. I’m hungry. I can’t do business on an empty stomach, it makes me cranky.”
Gino gestured a thick knuckled hand toward the office door. “I bet you’ve never had a Crazy Stallion steak.” He pinched his fingers to his lips and made a much-ma kissy sound. “Ex-cell-ente.” He tromped from the room, shaking the pictures on the wall with his heavy steps.
“Geeze, Luce.” Joey grabbed her arm and pulled her through the smoke-filled bingo hall toward the restaurant. “Don’t piss the guy off. We’ll both wind up in an unmarked grave.”
Lucy tried to yank free. “You’re hurting me.”
Joey stumbled and fell to one knee, so that Lucy stood looking down at him on the stained red carpet. She wanted to kick him while he was down, in the ribs, like she would have as a kid. Except Joey always grabbed her ankle and pulled her down, too. A life lesson she should have already learned.
Joey scrambled to his feet. “Did you trip me?” His face was blotched red.
“No.” She shook her head. “I want to leave. I’m not eating a steak with that man.”
“Leave, then.” Joey straightened his clothes. “But I wasn’t kidding about the graves. We’re in this now. There is no way out except to do what he wants.”
“You never intended to say no to him at all, did you?” Hurt spread through her chest at Joey’s manipulation. “You’re turning into Dad.” Her voice broke over the words. “How can you…you know where this is headed.”
Joey pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, as if he could block out her words. “Luce, I need this.”
Dizziness swirled through Lucy’s head, and she gripped her elbows tight, determined not to reach to him for stability.
“Can we talk about it later?” Joey gave her a raw look. He understood it was wrong, what he’d done, dragging her into the mess. The silent acknowledgement would’ve been comforting, if she didn’t know there would be a next time. There always was a next time with Joey. The certainty of it made her chest tighten and her vision blur. The smoky air pulled down the back of her throat like stale, expired poison.
Deadly all the same.
She had to get out of there.
“You two coming?” Gino called from the dark restaurant doorway.
“In a minute,” Joey said and looked at her for confirmation. Lucy struggled to breathe, but the pained look on Joey’s face had her nodding yes, even as her head screamed no. Joey hurried to the restaurant and clapped Gino on the shoulder as he entered.
“Lucy,” Gino yelled from the door. “I’ve got your brother in here. You’ll want to come on now.” Gino’s words were courtliness held up by threat.
Lucy considered running straight out the handprint-smudged entry doors, into the dark concealing night, away from Gino…take a taxi to McCarran and get on a plane… She had contacts all over the world…curator job offers galore…she could start over on her own. Sell everything in Vegas through an agent.
But what about Joey?
Would Joey be all right without her? Her heart stuttered with fear.
Except for the few years she had been in Europe completing her Ph.D, they had always been together. Even when she had been abroad, they had talked by email or phone every day. They had promised to always be there for each other, although that was mostly before his gambling had become such a problem.
Gino started toward her, his steps heavy even on the concrete floor. “I’m starting to feel stood up here.” His words were joking, but his smile, and eyes, were flat.
She couldn’t leave Joey alone in this mess. Gino would eat him for breakfast, and Joey would never forgive her if she ran out on him. She would just have to convince Gino that using her and Joey was a bad idea. They were inexperienced, with bad family luck.
Nobody in Vegas would risk bad juju when they were planning a score.
“Coming.” Lucy walked forward, curiously calm. Her relaxed manner was more disquieting than her earlier panic. Was she crazy? They said it ran in families. She remembered reading that the early twenties were especially vulnerable times.
She was overdue.
Their mother had gone off the deep end when their Dad went to prison. She would pull all her clothes out of drawers and stuff them in a suitcase, then run outside barefoot, only to circle back looking lost and confused. It had taken Lucy several frightening episodes of watching her leave, lugging a bag bigger than herself, before she could believe that their Mom was coming back and not abandoning them. Lucy would help her refold her clothes and put them away in the drawers, every damn time, over and over.
Gino waited for her to reach him and ushered her inside the restaurant. The darkness of the room was momentarily blinding. When her eyes adjusted, she saw the thick-armed guy from earlier and two other muscle-types leaning against the wall. Four against two, counting Gino. Those were bad odds even in Joey’s head. The air seemed to leave the room, but she did not flinch or step back. She’d survived bullies before and knew better than to cower.
Lucy sat beside Joey and Gino at a square four-top table and rested her napkin on her lap. A candle flickered inside a red glass globe on the table, making Gino look even more snakelike, coiled and ready to strike.
“Get us three porterhouses and milks,” Gino told a plump waitress whose cleavage hung out of her black uniform.