Men of Mayhem (6 page)

She shook her head.

“He could have said brown or hazel, but no, he said blue. I shouldn’t have talked to him again after that, but I kept making excuses because I wanted the fairy tale.” I tipped my head to the ceiling. “Now look at me.”

“You’re right where you’re supposed to be.”

I scoffed. “Broken, depressed, and unemployable.”

“No, you’re smarter and more worldly. Every girl needs a reality check now and then, and now that you’ve had yours, you’ll be smarter next time.”

My phone vibrated on the coffee table again. “He’s getting impatient,” I commented, watching the phone skip across the slick, dust-free surface.

“Then, let’s move.”

Gian

“No way, Carmela. I won’t even consider it.” I picked up a towel and wrapped it around the back of my neck as I walked out of my home gym. “Stop asking.”

“Gian, you need a personal assistant, someone to stock your kitchen, water your plants, go to the dry cleaners, and stop by the house when you’re out of town,” she yelled after me. Her four-inch red heels clicked against the wood floors with every step. “You’re rarely home between running the nightclub and your social life. What’s the big deal? You’ll barely see her.”

I halted mid-stride and turned around, glaring at my twin sister. “The big deal is that I don’t want a fucking assistant. I don’t need anyone nosing around in my business, especially someone who’s not family. I can’t have random people in my space. You know that. Besides, I don’t need anyone else when I have you.”

Carmela folded her arms across her chest. “Evie isn’t random. She’s my friend, and I don’t have time to do any of that stuff for you. I have a life too, you know.”

“I know you do, but I don’t want a stranger in my home.”

She huffed. “Fine. Can you find a position for her at the club? She could do inventory or bartend.”

“Does she have any experience?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, but what’s so hard about counting bottles or pouring a drink?”

“It’s a lot harder than it looks,” I murmured, rubbing the towel down the side of my face.

She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes. “Please, Gianluca. I need you,” she said, drawing out my full name. I hated that name. Nobody called me Gianluca except our dad and strangers.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“No, and you’re going to help me.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because you’re my favorite brother, and you’re always there when I need you, and right now, my really good friend needs you, which by extension, means me.”

“I don’t have any openings.”

She clipped the back of my head with her open palm like my mom had when I was a kid. I fucking hated it. “Well, then, make one.”

“Easy, Carmela. No need to get violent. I’ll find something.” I leaned my hip against the wall, placing myself out of striking distance. “Tell me about this friend.”

“What do you want to know?”

“For starters, what’s her name?”

She chewed on her lower lip for a second. “Evie Jeffers.”

I lifted my eyebrows and placed my hands on my hips. “Am I supposed to know the name or something?”

Carmela lifted one shoulder and then dropped it. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Great.” I rolled my eyes. “Tell me what makes Ms. Jeffers so special.”

“Like I said, she’s a close friend of mine, and she’s had a string of bad luck. She needs a break.”

“What kind of bad luck?”

“She’s an actress and—”

I held up a hand, interrupting her story. I didn’t need to hear one more word. I dated an aspiring actress last year for three months. She tried to sell a sex tape of us to a few websites, thinking it would give her the exposure she needed to land a breakout role. I shoved my foot so hard up the buyer’s ass as soon as I got wind of it, and it never saw the light of day, but I learned my lesson. I’d had enough of fame whores to last me a lifetime. Besides, I needed to keep a low profile.

I’d been promoted from soldier to capo six months ago when our dad’s health had deteriorated to the point where he couldn’t work. At twenty-seven, I became the youngest capo in the Trassato crime family. If everything went my way, I’d be promoted to underboss or consigliere by the time I reached thirty-five. As for Dominick, the boss and my uncle, I wanted to position myself so I was on the short list to be his replacement when the time came.

Without question, my promotion had pissed off a few people, and I couldn’t risk adding fuel to the fire. My dad only agreed to step down if I succeeded him. Some of the older soldiers didn’t like it—especially Carlo, but he could go fuck himself. Everyone knew he had the tendency to disappear when it came time to do the “heavy lifting.” He’d always make up some pathetic excuse about being sick or not knowing how to find the person.

I may not have been around as long as Carlo, but I earned the promotion. I’d been doing my dad’s job plus mine for a solid year after my dad was diagnosed with cancer. Dominick didn’t fight my dad, which didn’t surprise me. He encouraged made men to nominate their sons for membership, believing it incentivized the members to keep the
omertà
, or the oath of silence.

But Dominick didn’t play games. If he thought someone had been taking unnecessary risks and endangering the family or by extension him, he considered it a direct show of disrespect, and there’d be severe consequences.

“No.” I sliced my hand through the air. “You can stop right there. I’m not interested.”

Two lines marred the skin between her brows. “You haven’t even heard her story. How do you know?”

“I can’t have a personal assistant or someone working in my bar who will call attention to me or my business.”

She shook her head. “Evie isn’t like Becca. She wouldn’t do that. She’s not looking for instant fame. She’s an actress and a dancer. She’s had a few roles on Broadway, but everything fell apart when she hurt her ankle last year. She needs a steady income for a couple of months while she gets back in shape. When she’s not working for you, she’ll be at rehab and in the dance studio. She doesn’t have time for anything else.”

“She hurt her ankle a year ago?”

“Yeah? So?”

“Why is she still in rehab?” I fractured my wrist in a bar fight when I was twenty-one. I had a cast for six weeks, and I had to do a shit load of physical therapy for the next few months, but it sure as hell didn’t interfere with my life for an entire year.

Carmela fiddled with the cuffs of the white shirt peeking out of the sleeves of her bright red power suit. “She had some other things going on that diverted her attention.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Like what?”

“She got engaged and moved in with her fiancé. She put off her rehabilitation to plan the wedding.”

I raised one eyebrow. “Uh-huh, and where’s the fiancé now?”

“She broke off the engagement.”

“Why?”

“It’s none of your business.” Carmela lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. I knew that look. I had seen it countless times when she faced off with our dad. I wouldn’t get much else out of her. Her stubbornness drove our parents crazy.

“Is the ex going to be a problem?”

“No,” she answered without hesitation.

“Will I be dealing with a blubbering mess every day?”

“Absolutely not. Evie is a strong person with a good head on her shoulders, and she’s really talented. She just needs a little help right now.”

“So let her stay with you until she’s back on her feet.”

“She has been, but she doesn’t want to be dependent on me financially until she starts making money. She wants a job, but if she finds a normal job, she won’t have enough time to train or go to auditions. If you hire her, she’ll have flexibility and a place to stay.”

My brows snapped together. “A place to stay?”

She shifted on her feet. “Well, yeah. I thought she could stay where you take your…your whatever.” She waved her hand. “You know what I’m talking about. The apartment above your club.”

I chuckled. “What are you, in kindergarten? You can’t say it.”

She cocked her hip to the side. “Screw you, Gian. The last thing I want to talk about is my twin brother hooking up with all those random…” She shivered. “You know.”

“You’ve got a point.” I chuckled as I rubbed a towel over my face. “But I’m not sure I’m the person to help your friend.”

“Just interview her and if you like her, offer her a two-week trial period.”

My mind scrambled for a way to sidestep her request, but in the end I caved. I’d hire her for a trial period and terminate her when it was over. It’d be easy enough to scare her away.

“Bring her by the club tonight, and I’ll interview her. That’s all I can promise you.”

She pressed a kiss to my cheek. “I knew you’d help.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret this,” I grumbled. “Now get out of here. I need to shower.”

She held up her hand. “One more thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Don’t hit on my friend. She doesn’t need another asshole in her life.”

“Got it.” I rolled my eyes. “I’ll keep my hands and mouth far away from her.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And every other body part.”

“Have a little faith in me. I’m not that bad.”

She scoffed. “No, you’re worse, and we both know it.”

Evangeline

After crashing on Carmela’s couch for a week and submitting job applications everywhere and anywhere, I didn’t have a single viable job prospect. Well, I had one. Carmela’s twin brother agreed to interview me for a position at his club tonight. My stomach churned at the thought of working for Gianluca Trassato. I hadn’t met him, but when I’d introduced Carmela to some of my actor friends, they couldn’t stop talking about her man-whore brother with mafia connections.

Common sense told me to stay far away from him. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any other options except going home or running back to Kevin, neither of which I wanted to consider. I still needed to pawn my engagement ring for money, but Kevin asked me to give it back to him. I hadn’t decided what I should do.

I climbed out of the taxi and came to a standstill on the street with my hands planted on the waistline of my skirt as I watched the scene in front of me. Laughter floated through the air. Bits and pieces of conversations filtered into my ears. The line to the club snaked around the block.

Nightclubs weren’t my scene. I’d successfully avoided them since I moved to New York City a couple of years ago. Initially, I worked too much to do anything other than meet friends for dinner. After I met Kevin, we went to art galleries and charity fundraisers.

Carmela told me my name would be on the bouncer’s VIP list, but I fleetingly considered turning around and going back to her apartment.

I can do this.

I need this.

I swallowed over the lump in my throat and marched forward, weaving through the throngs of people to the front of the line. Holding my head high, I ignored every groan and unflattering comment aimed at me.