Page 17 of Gianni DeLuca

Chapter Eleven

“Why are we buying ourown groceries?” I asked as I pushed a basket through Rouses, a local grocery store. “I could have what we want to be delivered to your house.”

We’d been practically inseparable these last three weeks. Sneaking to be with each other. Had many late nights together. Some at her house, some at mine. Still hadn’t discussed business, and I didn’t care. It was Saturday, and we were spending the weekend together. She’d bought me clothes and insisted that we had a normal weekend like any other couple.

“And so can I, but what’s the fun in that.” She pushed my baseball cap down further on my head. We had ditched my security, and I now wore a hat and shades along with shorts and a shirt. An attire I haven’t worn since high school. “You fine as fuck in those Italian suits tailored for your bomb-ass body. But I think you’re even sexier as the everyday man with your polo shirt and khaki shorts showing off those calf muscles.”

She wore a white tank top, camouflage painter pants, and timberland boots. I tugged on her bouncy ponytail. “And I like this tough girl look, reminding me of when I first fell in love with you.”

“Today is about the life we could have had. I’m cooking gumbo today, and tomorrow we’re going to the Saints game.”

Apprehension hit me. “Grocery shopping is one thing, but a huge arena like the Superdome is dangerous. It’s too open.”

“Not if we sit in the cheap seats and you wear exactly what you have on. Or better yet, let’s buy you a jersey.” She nudged my shoulder. “No one will expect Gianni DeLuca, the owner of the Imagine Casino and Andreas fine dining is slumming in the nosebleeds. The average New Orleanian wouldn’t know you from their neighbor. Can we at least try, and if it’s too much, we can leave?”

I nodded. Maybe she was right. I’d been so ensconced in high society where people recognized me that I could move about the city without the constant threat of someone wanting me dead. Diamond had been able to hide in plain sight. I wanted to give her anything she wanted, and if normalcy was what she wanted, I would try. Besides, I could hone my skills and instincts by being in a crowd and still being aware of possible threats.

I looked around the aisle before asking quietly, “How do you manage not being known on the streets?”

“I have a couple of trustworthy guys who appear to be running things but report to me. It’s simple really.” She picked up a small green vegetable. “Do you like okra in your gumbo?”

“I eat anything.” I nuzzled her neck. “And I do mean anything.”

Diamond raised her hand high. “I can attest to that.”

Playfully, I pulled her hand down and wrapped my arms around her from the back while she pushed the basket. “I wish we could be like this forever.”

She tilted her head back to kiss my cheek. “Me too.”

***

“BABY, YOU HAVE TO CALMdown. Your palms are sweaty.” Diamond cooed as we walked through security and then through the throngs of Saints fans. “We can’t bring weapons in the arena anyway.”

“You and I both know that anything can be used as a weapon.”

She stopped walking. “Is this too much? Because we can turn back around.”

“Give me a second.” I ducked off into the male restroom and entered a stall. I leaned against the door, needing to regain my composure. I hadn’t been without one of my men tailing me in a public place in years, and I hadn’t attended a Saints game since I was a teenager with my father.

While walking up the ramp to the Superdome with excited people yelling and shouting their glee, I’d become hypervigilant. I kept checking the crowds searching for an outlier. Someone who didn’t fit in didn’t smile or seem alone. When some fans pressed against us as we went through the gate, I lost my ability to breathe, and my chest tightened. I thought I’d managed to hide my growing anxiousness until Diamond noted my sweaty palms and told me to calm down.

I inhaled deeply before slowly letting the air seep from my lungs and mouth. I walked out to the mirror and looked at myself. I was almost unrecognizable to myself with my cap, jersey, and shades. I looked like a dad. I looked like my father, and a wave of grief I hadn’t experienced in years drifted over me. This was what he envisioned for me. He might have dabbled in organized crime, but his intent was for me to be a successful lawyer or engineer. To have fun with my wife and children at a game like this.

“G? You okay?” Diamond’s voice called from the entrance. I took one more long look at the man I should’ve been and left to join the woman with the same shattered dreams.

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