Page 129 of Married with Mayhem

SABRINA

Sal walks over with a plate of fresh bruschetta drizzled with balsamic glaze and a slice of cheesecake.

“How do you always know the second I start to get hungry?” I ask and take an eager forkful of cheesecake.

“It’s my business,” he says with a grin. “I’m a man of few talents but I know food and I know people.”

The next bite I take is a wedge of bread topped with delicious bruschetta. “Don’t you dare call yourself a man of few talents when you have the skill to produce a marvel like this.”

With a snort of laughter, he heads back to the counter. It’s been a busy day with a steady stream of customers. In addition to Stevie and the kitchen staff, Sal has four other Gino’s employees behind the counter. Two are high school girls who only started working here a few weeks ago and appear overwhelmed whenever the line gets more than three customers deep but Sal goes out of his way to encourage them.

On busy days like this I feel bad about occupying a table for hours on end while I work on my laptop but whenever I hint that I can go elsewhere, Sal becomes indignant and carries over more food. Part of this attitude is just Sal being his Sal-level ofawesome. But he also knows that if I’m hanging around, Monte will inevitably show up as well and he’s always eager for any chance to see his son.

I’m not sure what Monte and Nico are doing today. Monte made a vague comment about driving to the racetrack in Queens. He and his brother manage various underground gambling enterprises for Silvio, one of the old Amato family underbosses.

I’m not foolish enough to assume Monte’s role is limited to making phone calls and counting cash. Sometimes his knuckles are bruised. I’ve seen blood on his clothes. Now that I’ve lived with him and Nico for nearly a month, I’ve overheard enough casual conversational snippets to understand that Monte’s reputation as a feared enforcer is widely known.

None of this is a shock. I knew who Monte Castelli was when I fell for him and I wouldn’t change a thing. His rough edges are deeply entwined with all the qualities that make him the man I love. There’s just an uneasy feeling that comes with knowing there are parts of his life that can never be shared with me.

The apartment upstairs is a little cramped since all my belongings were shipped from Sicily. I offered to send my big desk to storage for now but Monte wouldn’t consider it. My desk and computer setup takes up half the living room. If Nico is at all annoyed, he hides it really well. Mostly he seems tickled by the sight of his big brother in love.

Sal’s outbreak of laughter catches my attention. He’s joking around with a pair of regulars wearing dirty boots and hardhats. Monte’s laugh is a perfect echo of his father’s. Sal has hinted more than once he’d love to see his sons abandon their mafia-related endeavors and take an interest in the real family business.

For Monte’s part, he doesn’t seem to think that far ahead. He says nothing about concrete plans for the future.

We were both relieved when my period showed up a couple of weeks ago. Since then, we’ve been a lot less careless. Most of the time, anyway. Though I’m content to wait, the thought of someday giving birth to Monte’s child makes me feel weak with happiness. I want to be his real wife, have a family with him. Our kids will be true New Yorkers from the day they’re born.

And I can admit that I’m totally getting ahead of myself.

We’re very much in love and extremely happy together, but that doesn’t change the fact that Monte only married me in order to put a stop to my uncle’s schemes. We’re living together and he hasn’t said a word about ending our ‘marriage’. However, when he lost his wedding ring, he did not replace it.

And then I didn’t want to be the only one wearing a wedding ring so I stopped wearing mine. Now I miss seeing it on my finger. Monte has made no comment about the fact that I no longer wear it. I’m not sure he’s noticed.

The door swings open and high heels click on the black and white checkered floor. Two girls pause and scan the room. One of them smiles at me. The other one doesn’t.

“Hi, Sabrina,” Livy chirps with a wave.

Her companion, whose name I’ve forgotten because she’s a forgettable person, gives me a flat, icy stare.

“Hi, Livy.” I haven’t seen Nico’s hookup since the very memorable night we shared a wall. I remember cringing over her very loud, very repetitive ‘Yes, yes, you’re the king!’ filthy talk.

It’s my goal to be quieter and more innovative, just in case anyone’s listening. I’m prepared to practice as much as possible. I’ve discovered that I LOVE having sex and can’t get enough.

Nico has never complained about the fact that Monte and I are always fucking like wild beasts in the next room but then again, Monte claims his brother sleeps as soundly as a hibernating bear.

Meanwhile, Livy might not have received the news that Nico has moved on. She’s plainly disappointed not to find him here. Far be it from me to tell her that lately he’s been seeing a girl who bartends at that place where the staff all climbs up on the counter and dances in cowboy boots.

There are no free tables so Livy and her pal wander over here.

“Do you mind if we sit at your table?” Livy says and elbows her friend. “Rochelle, you’ve met Sabrina, right?”

“No,” Rochelle says and cracks her gum. She pulls out the chair across from mine and plunks her skinny ass down.

Livy takes the seat beside her and plays with a section of her red hair. The whine of the door hinges prompts her to swivel around in the hopes she’ll see Nico walking in, but instead there’s only a teenage kid wearing aFive Nights at Freddy’st-shirt and a hat that looks like a Nintendo controller. He’s got good taste. He’ll go far in life.

Livy’s shoulders slump and she stops playing with her hair but then she gives me a small smile, which is nice because her BFF is trying to drill holes into my forehead with her eyes.

“How have you been?” Livy asks. “Anything new?”

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