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“I know, forget about it. B, you can’t tell anyone about us.”
“Don’t you think I know that? I don’t want my beloved cousin, Gino, to go to jail for killing Hugo.”
“Why does everyone say that?” I threw my hands up in frustration. “Gino is not going to kill him.”
“Umm, yes he will. Let’s go inside.” She pulled at her winter coat, trying to keep the cold out. “It’s the North Pole out here.”
“Oh, I’m not going inside.”
“You aren’t?”
“Nope. I’m skipping. I need to see where the hell he’s going every fucking Wednesday.” He was hiding something. A woman, a habit, I didn’t know what it was, but it was something.
He was set in stone to keep everything locked up inside him, but I wasn’t ready to live on crumbs. The orgasms were great; he kept me satisfied, but the son of a bitch starved my heart. He forgot just one thing…
My name was Catherinelle Nucci. A Nucci always gets what they want.
“B, go inside and call me a cab, please.”
“Wait, I don’t get to come?”
“No, he’ll be like a dog with rabies if he sees me. I don’t need a witness.”
Five minutes later, I was picked up in a yellow New York City cab driven by a nice old man to whom I gave the address of my brother’s jazz club. I knew Hugo was meeting Roman there, so that was where I would start.
“Of course, miss.” At the first stop light, he turned to look at me. “I know that place. Me and my dear Bess used to go there back in the day. It used to be a dance room there. Ah, but then it got sold and turned into a bar.”
After saying that, he turned around, and the car started to move again, but the hint of pain in his voice just wouldn’t let me drop it.
“You don’t like it now, sir?”
“Well, I only went back once a few years ago; ’90-’91, I can’t remember. The music is nice, but it’s for the young blooded like you. No place for me and my Bess.”
“Sir, you don’t look all that old.”
“I’m sixty-seven, young lady. Bess, God bless her, she would love to dance to jazz in those new clubs; she’s ten years younger than I, but I work too much to take her out anymore.”
I just hoped Bess knew how lucky she was to have had this man by her side. He was looking straight ahead, but I could see him in the rearview mirror. Melancholy, sadness, a faded smile for the good old days, all were floating in his blue eyes.
From my seat, I grabbed the black and gold Versace bag that my nonno brought for me when he was here for his birthday and fished out all the cash I had on me.
“Sir, how would you like to make…two hundred and seventy-three dollars?”
“For what, young miss?”
“I need someone to drive me around for a few hours; you’ll be free at four o’clock tops.”
He threw me another look over his shoulder, this time a bit suspicious.
“You have errands to run, miss?”
“Umm…” kinda, “Actually, I have to…you see…follow someone around.”
“Miss…”
“It’s harmless, I swear. He’s…he’s my boyfriend.”
“It would be easier to give him a call.” The taxi driver told me, obviously disapproving of my actions, but he leaned in and grabbed the cash from my hand.
