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“A holistic approach. I don’t even know your intentions, and already I’m sold. I have a debriefing in an hour.” He glances down at his ringing phone. “If you all give me about ten minutes, I’ll show you to the staff and let you get to it.”
When he steps out of the room, Gabriella commands the scene again. “Steven, you get a list of all the people Gina deems appropriate to interview, then interview them. Sister and I will . . .”
I run a hand over my temple. “Gabby, can you stop?”
My cell phone lights up with Santino’s face on it. My fingertips are skimming the iPhone when Gabriella grabs it and chucks it against the wall.
Steven’s sneaking out of the room as I snarl at her. “What sort of malfunction—”
“He’s cheating on you!”
Someone presses my belly and calls me Pillsbury as I giggle again. “Whatever you say, Gabriella. Pick upmymotherfuckingphone,or I’m liable to forget you’re my sister.”
“Alright, Gina. Give me one minute.” She slinks over to her purse. Next, she’s clutching her own iPhone in my face.
“Bitch, that’s your phone, not mine. I said for you to grab my phone in five, four, three . . .”
My voice dies in my throat as I watch a video of Santino. He’s in the center of a very lavish room, with some weird red cloth covering his dick. I want to say he’s doing push-ups, but he has one leg lifting and gyrating the ground! Oh, God, it’sthe deep stroke!
He’s done that deep stroke on me.
“Okay, so he was a stripper.”We will be having a long, heated discussion about that tonight!
“Hewasandstill isa stripper.” She shows me pictures of him on a website and shows how for $750 per hour, I can have him at my home. I snort.
“I’m a confident woman, Gabriella,” I deadpan.I’m gonna kill Santino. Kill him. Maybe ghost him for a few days, see how he likes that. Then I’m gonna forgive.Yes, ladies, forgive him. Santino’s the good guy. I remember glancing up at him, heart in my throat after learning about his mom.
My sister’s an idiot—love’s complex. It might not be rocket science, but it’s worth more than a quick goodbye.
Voice laced in sympathy, Gabriella sighs. “That’s not all, sis.”
She mentions how Shanda’s sister threw a party just last night.
“I’m so glad that I stayed home. Cora begged me to come,” Gabriella murmurs. With shaking fingers, she shows me another video. Suddenly I’m crying so hard that my chest hurts, breathing shallow.
My sister holds me tight, encouraging me. “Gina, I know you want to be loved. We all do, honey. I stopped working for Galloway because you had such a strong drive, a passion that I lacked. Dad doesn’t notice all that you do. Well, I could only wish I were like you, Gina. But you’ve done everything so far. I’ll handle this for you. It’s too close to Christmas for you to concern yourself with anything.”
THE GRINCH WHO STOLE CHRISTMAS
* * *
35
Santino
Two days ago, I awoke in a mass of tangled limbs. Three women I vaguely recall dancing for were naked around me. I’d blacked out. Nothing’s coming to mind. Since I laid eyes on my future wife, my cock hasn’t saluted another woman, regardless of how attractive. I had a few confessions for Gina, like how I slaughtered pussy during my 20s. She knows of the few stints I went to jail in the past, but this?
I spent the fucking day at the doctors.
Between desperate calls to Gina, I dread the moments until learning I was negative for any sexually transmitted infections. Hundreds of calls and a full voice machine later, I fell asleep early this morning. Feels like a few minutes have passed when I’m awakened by the roar of the alarm I haven’t used in ages. Gina’s body stirs, her ass against my cock had become my new normal.
In construction gear, I take a look at the naked Christmas tree in the living room and grab my keys.
KNOCK. KNOCK.
Someone bangs on the door as if attempting to pull it from the hinges. I snatch my keys from the kitchen counter and head over.
“Hi, loser,” the middle sister struts inside with a team behind her.
