She stepped over to their white leather Natuzzi sofa and sat, but didn’t remove her jacket with the fake fur collar.
Markie paused a moment, trying to figure out just the right way to explain things, then sat down on an ottoman across from her.
“You know I’m movin’ up in the family, right? You know Frank’s got his eye on me.”
He was referring to Frank Lombardo, head of the largest crime family in the city.
“Yeah, Frank likes you,” Goldie conceded. “Who was the blonde that came out of our bedroom?”
“Her name is Kristen DiVarno. She’s Charley DiVarno’s oldest daughter.”
“Charley DiVarno, as in the Chicago DiVarnos?” Goldie asked, knowing they were the largest Italian crime family in the Windy City.
“Yeah,” Markie confirmed. “You know Frank and Charley got history, right? Charley’s originally from New York, and they hung out a lot back in the day. Anyway, Kristen’s in the graduate program at NYU. She’s gettin’ her master’s in business. Charley asked Frank to have someone check up on her from time to time, so Frank asked me.”
“Okay. Swell. But why was she in our bedroom?”
“Well, Frank asked me to look in on Kristen some time ago. I didn’t tell ya because, well—I didn’t think it was a big deal. But, uh, over time, we got to know one another and, uh, had coffee a few times… and… uh, one thing sort of led to another.”
Goldie’s green eyes shot daggers at him, knowing where this was going.
“Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “Oh, no! I’ve been with you seven years, Markie.Seven years!”
“Yeah, I know,” he nodded. “And I feel really shitty about this, Goldie. I reallydo!But it was just somethin’ that—y’know—happened.Nobody planned it.”
Tears began to fill Goldie’s eyes as her heart sank to the pit of her stomach.
“I thought you were comin’ in tomorrow,” he continued. “I was gonna meet you at the airport with flowers and give you this talk I been workin’ on, then take you to your new apartment.”
“My newwhat?”
“I got you this great place on 53rd. The rent is paid up for six months. Your stuff’s all there; I got you a car and put fifty grand in a bank account for ya. It’s a really nice exit package.”
Goldie rubbed her forehead now, actually feeling light-headed, while tears rolled down her face.
“I—uh—I…” She rose, walked out of the living room, and went into the kitchen. Unsure of what to say, she tore off a piece of paper towel from a roll and blew her nose. She was stunned, hurt, and felt betrayed. Everything she knew had just changed in an instant. She glanced around the kitchen and noticed a small, empty space on the wall above the counter where a saying that came from her mother’s kitchen used to hang. It read: “The best ingredient to every good meal is love.”
She wiped her eyes and tried to regain some composure.
“Exit package, huh?” she finally muttered. “What am I? Some employee who just got canned?”
Her ex looked at her and shrugged slightly. “No… I just felt like I owed ya.”
“How long, Markie?” she wondered. “When did all this start?”
“What difference does it make?” he asked.
“How long?”she insisted.
“Eight months.”
“Oh, my God,” Goldie moaned as fresh tears flooded her eyes.“Oh, my God!”
Markie rose and walked over to the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room.
“Look, I’m really sorry about this. I’ve tried to make things as painless as possible with—y’know—the apartment, money, and car. But, there’s no good way to do this kind of thing.”
“I dunno,” she disagreed. “You’re doin’ a pretty bang-up job of tellin’ me you’ve been bangin’ someone else.”
