Page 30 of A Game So Reckless

“It’s this new place Mateo told us about.”

I frown. “New place? Where? Is it Italian?”

With a name like mine, I can’t just go to any old club that I want to.

“It’s chill,” Mateo pipes up from the driver’s seat. “It’s owned by some American guy. They play good music. Cute fucking baddies, too.”

“Thank you, Mateo, but your comments on the female segment of the club’s clientele are not particularly relevant to us,” Lucia says primly.

Mateo just shrugs. “Whatever. We’re here. I’ll let you three out and go park.”

I press my face to the window, peering out. I haven’t been paying attention to the drive. I have no clue what street we’re on. It makes me a little nervous, not knowing whose territory I’m in right now. But Mateo said the club was owned by an American. As far as I know, Papà doesn’t currently have any beef with anybody from down south right now.

Besides, all we’re here to do is dance and have a good time.

Lucia, Giulia, and I all hop out, teetering and tipsy in our high heels. Mateo pulls away to find a place to park while the three of us head for the club. It’s obvious where we’re meant to go. There’s a lineup of people waiting to get in. I suppress a small sigh as we join the back of the line. I kind of wish we’d gone to one of the usual places. We wouldn’t be waiting at the back of the line if we’d gone to a club owned by one of Papà’s men.

But then again, I don’t exactly want word of me being out tonight getting back to Papà. Mamma wouldn’t have let me go if it was expressly forbidden, but her hesitation was sound. I doubt Papà would be thrilled about me gallivanting around town when he’s in Montréal.

So waiting in line it is.

Luckily, the line moves pretty quickly, especially for groups with women. Lucia, Giulia, and I are at the front of the line before Mateo has even returned from parking the car.

The bouncer, a big, bald guy, looks at Giulia and Lucia’s driver’s licenses. Apart from a moment of confusion about their identical faces and matching birthdays, he waves them in without issue. I hand him my ID – an Ontario Photo Card, since I don’t have a driver’s license – expecting to be let through as quickly as my friends were.

But he just looks at it. Looks and looks and looks.

And then, he pulls out his phone and snaps a picture of it.

“Hey! What the hell?” I say, trying to snatch the card from his baseball mitt-sized hands.

“Company protocol,” he says flatly, holding it just out of reach. With his other hand, he appears to be laboriously typing something on his phone using only one thumb.

“Protocol, my ass. You didn’t take a picture of anyone else’s ID! What are you doing now? Are you sending that photo to someone?”

“Like I said. Protocol.”

This was a bad idea. We should have gone to a place we know. I’m suddenly wondering more and more about the American owner of this club. Who are they?

And who is this guy texting? Is he letting someone know I’m here?

Shit. Maybe I should just leave.

I worry my lower lip between my teeth, turning my head to check for Mateo, but I don’t see him anywhere. Lucia and Giulia have disappeared inside.

I’m in a crowd of people and I am completely alone.

“Here,” the bouncer says, finally giving me back my ID. “You’re good to go.”

Good to go. Good to go where? Inside? Because that is feeling like a bad fucking move right now.

“You know what? I’m good,” I tell him, backing away and barely avoiding smacking into the girl waiting behind me. “Sorry,” I say, awkwardly sidling out of the lineup. I start to walk, but feel too exposed on the street. So I duck into the alley beside the club and pull my phone out of my clutch.

I call both Giulia and Lucia. Giulia doesn’t answer, but on the third ring, Lucia does.

“Lucia? Babe, I really don’t think we should party here. The bouncer guy just-”

“What is she saying?” comes Giulia’s shout. Music throbs through the connection. Lucia says something that I don’t catch. Giulia must have grabbed the phone from her, because she suddenly tells me to get my ass in there. Just like their faces, she and Lucia have absolutely identical voices, but their personalities are different enough that I know who’s speaking to me. I can tell when Lucia takes back the phone.

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