The Beginning (The Life 1)

I almost told the driver to turn around so I could take her back home but gritted my teeth against the urge and took the risk of taking her hand in mine while the others were too preoccupied to notice. Lance was whining about his cannoli, so I knew I would be safe from his eagle eyes, at least. I spent the short drive to the theatre reassuring her, and by the time we left the limo, she seemed a lot less tense.

"This is the kind of stuff the family likes to do; you’d better get used to it, since it looks like the twins have adopted you. I’ll try to keep them in check but try to enjoy the evening and don’t think too much. Think of it as your debut.” In a sense, that’s exactly what it was. I’m not sure if Ma had thought of that when she switched plans, but if she’s here, there’s a good chance most if not all of her friends will be too, along with their teenage kids.

As expected, the vestibule leading into the lobby was crowded with the who’s who in the city. The girls snatched Gianna from me and walked over to a group of their New York friends who seemed to have been waiting. I couldn’t help comparing her to the rest of them. I was just making sure that she stood out, that’s all. It had nothing to do with the way I felt looking at her in that damn dress. How is it that I never realized that shit was missing part of its back? I was tempted, very tempted to remove the jacket of my tux and throw it around her shoulders because it wasn’t just females hanging around out here. I just hope no one was seeing her the way I was. I looked around to make sure.

“Bruh, clean the drool off your chin.”

“What’re you talking about?” Where the hell did he come from?

“You’ve been drooling since Gia came out of that bedroom, and you haven’t stopped yet. Come along with your pitiful self. Maybe you can write a poem, an ode to the delectable Gia.”

“Don’t call her that.” He rolled his eyes and walked in step beside me.

“This is going to be fun.” He rubbed his hands together with glee.

“What is?”

“The way I figure, this might be the one place I’ve got you beat. You excel in literature, the arts, and fighting skill, but when it comes to the ladies, I’m the don.”

“Nope, the race is not to the swift. I think I’ve got you beat there too because none of those things you play around with comes even close to….” This fucker! He tricked me again.

It was torture! I missed more than half the show because I spent the time watching her. I had a perfect view of her profile from my seat behind and slightly to the left of her. There were more people in our box than I’d expected since the twins invited their friends over and I barely gave thought to what my sisters were up to by inviting them when they knew the weekend was supposed to be all about her.

One of the girls is some up-and-coming artist, two of them are the daughters of the city’s elite, and the other one if I remember correctly, is some hotshot equestrian. She stood out with that hair of hers. Though free of adornments, unlike the others who had either a comb or some other bauble in their hair, her flowing black locks drew the eye with its luster.

At first, my eyes were drawn to her because I found it almost impossible to look away, but then I got caught up watching her enjoy the play. Her emotions were plain to read on her face, and though I doubt she understands a word of Italian, the emotion in the story was enough to move her. Ma would claim that is a sign of a true connoisseur, and I’d agree. I knew she seemed the type. Most artists are into this crap.

When the first tear fell and rolled down her cheek, I felt my heart squeeze. Thankfully, Lance, who sat next to me, was too engrossed in what was going on, on the stage to stick his nose in my shit when I retrieved the kerchief from my pocket and tapped her shoulder to pass it to her.

She smiled back at me wanly and gave me a tearful thank you before dabbing her eyes. Even that simple action made my heart react in a way not known to me. I think I need to go back to the drawing board.

Someone called out to one of the girls with my sisters as they were saying their goodbyes, and the whole entourage came to a stop. It looks like a few other families were trying to instill culture and class in their sons. Three of them, who I recognize from their days spent sniffing around the twins, came waltzing over all smiles, their fake ass veneers shining under the dim light in the theatre’s lobby.