Page 209 of Morally Black Betrothal
But what was a girl to do in my situation? All my life, I’d been good at exactly two things: dancing and flirting. Thanks to a ruined knee, the former was no longer an option. And since I had no other skills and no education, I had to maximize the latter.
Men loved a pair of good-sized cans on the lady mixing their high balls, right?
God, I hoped so.
“I wasn’tplanningto do something like this, but things happen,” I said after Candy was done taking my blood oxygen.
When she didn’t answer, I just kept talking.
“Most dancers don’t want to have big boobs, but exotic ones do, right? My cousin Rochelle makes more than a granda nightworking at Diamonds, that club in Hell’s Kitchen. Do you know it?”
Candy shook her head. Of course, she didn’t know it. Why would a nice girl like her know the strip clubs of New York?
“Are you an exotic dancer too?” she wondered, almost like she couldn’t help herself.
I grinned. I knew I’d catch her interest somehow. I didn’t have the sense in my head God gave me, according to Nonna and all five of my siblings, but I was the best in a family of charmers.La civetta, as my grandparents used to call me. Officially, that translated to “owl,” but in Italy, it also meant a flirt.
“Nah,” I said. “But since it’s looking more and more like serving drinks is all I have going for me, I figured I might as well get the best tips I can. Nice girl like me should be able to find a sugar daddy in at least a week or two, am I right?”
Again, Candy didn’t answer as she entered some other things into the computer.
Man, this crowd was dead.
I tried not to pout. I was just trying to be nice—make a little conversation. It made me feel awkward when people didn’t talk back, and usually, I was very good at getting people to talk back.
Candy stood up from the computer and offered me another tight smile. “Dr. Hunt will be right with you.”
The door closed behind her. Kicking my legs back and forth, I started scrolling through my phone when it buzzed with a callfrom my oldest sister. I rolled my eyes. As the de facto mother hen of the six Zola kids, Lea was nothing if not persistent. She would press redial for hours until I picked up.
Vaguely, I wondered if I should tell her where I was just to hear her squawk.
“Hey, I can’t really talk now?—”
“Where are you?” Lea demanded. “You were supposed to be at the house an hour ago. Kate and I got the dining room boxed up, and we have the truck here to bring everything to the storage center, but only for the next few hours.”
I smacked a hand to my forehead as my stomach turned with guilt. “Shit. I forgot. I’m sorry.”
“Youforgot?” Lea’s voice ricocheted through my phone’s tinny speakers and off the exam room’s hard, disinfected surfaces. “Joni, what the hell? Nonna needs to get all of her things out of the house this weekend, and then we have to clean and get everything ready for the new renters on Monday. We literally cannot do this without everyone pitching in. Even Matthew came down from Boston to help.”
I winced, as if just hearing the schedule physically hurt.
And maybe it did. At least the reasons for it certainly stung a whole lot.
When my grandmother had originally announced she was moving back to Rome to spend her golden years with her sisters, everyone was overjoyed for her. After all, Nonna spent most of her life raising the six of us after we lost our dad. Now that we were grown, she deserved an adventure of her own.
It made sense forthemto be happy. My siblings had all graduated out of the little brown house on Hughes Street.
Lea had her brood in Belmont, the first of us to step out.
Matthew had a life in Boston, complete with a new wife, stepdaughter, and the little girl they were about to have.
Kate had her vintage clothing shop in Riverdale and too many new celebrity clients to count.
Frankie was raising her family in London with Xavier, the actualdukeshe had married last year.
And Marie, only ten months older than me, was currently attending culinary school in Paris.
Which left me, the family fuckup who still lived at home, with little more than a bright smile and a tight ass, to find her way into the world.
