“No, seriously, is this your Bentley? Because this shite is divine!”
Kelli’s busy playing with all the buttons and switches in the back of what I believe is a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car.
“This is the Bentley Flying Spur,” Dario answers absently, busy texting, “I got one of the first ten sold in America.”
“Money can’t buy happiness,” I said crossly, trying not to be impressed.
My husband looks up and illuminates me with his giant grin. “Yeah, but you can buy a big fucking Bentley and park right next to it.”
Kelli finds this hilarious and even I have to laugh a little.
The club is lit up like a beacon of sin, and the line to get in the regular entrance is a satisfying quarter mile long. There are pretty hostesses strolling up and down the line, offering bottles of water with the club logo and chatting up the people waiting to get in.
“That’s a good idea,” I complimented Dario.
“They should suffer to gain admittance,” he said, “it makes them want it that much more. But there’s a tipping point where they’re so pissed off that they’re assholes once they get in. Some water, a little flirting, and everybody’s happy.”
We’re pulling up to the VIP entrance and Kelli’s eyes bulge with excitement. She watches a blonde A-lister get out of her car, stretching elaborately for the paparazzi. “Is that…?”
Dario looks up long enough to nod. “That’s her.”
“This place is really going off!” Kelli says happily. “Now, where are the drinks?”
“Let’s actually get into the club and I’ll see what I can do, you lush,” he said, laughing as the valet opens his door.
I’ve noticed that he always smoothly brushes off an attendant or bodyguard who tries to get my door, he’s there first to help me out and slide a possessive hand around my waist. I’m glad for it tonight, holding Kelli’s hand firmly on my other side. I’ve trained myself for so long to be invisible that the barrage of lights and shouted questions is making me queasy.
“Hey,” Dario leans down and whispers in my ear. “You are the hottest fucking woman on this planet. Smile and own it.”
It hits me that I really want this to go well for him, I want him to succeed. I know there’s a lot resting on his ability to make the Toscano holdings in Boston flourish. So, I raise my chin and give it my best effort.
“We’ll start in the club section and see where the night takes us,” Dario says in my ear as we navigate our way to one of the elevated platforms looking down on the first dance floor. There are three of them, including one on the roof and the one in theotherclub.
“With Kelli here, I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I said nervously.
“I don’t think you need to worry about Kelli,” he laughs, “I’ve assigned Gianni to her.”
Looking over, I see her flirting madly with the tall, blond bodyguard and roll my eyes. “I see your point.”
“He’ll be here to cater to all of your friend’s needs,” he says with his signature filthy grin. It fades a bit as he strokes my cheek. “This is a good surprise, correct?”
Throwing my arms around him, I kiss his beautiful lips, loving the feel and taste of him. “She is a wonderful surprise and you are a wonderful man. Thank you so much for thinking of this.”
He’s a little surprised by my exuberance, but he grins and deepens the kiss before pulling back. “I know you’ve been a little lonely here. I thought you might like some company when I’m busy.”
Running my fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly, I kiss him again. “You aresogetting lucky tonight.”
“Oh, good,” he nips my ear lobe, “because I want you to suck my dick like you’re mad at it.”
I nearly spit up my mouthful of champagne and press my lips together, trying not to laugh.
When it's time for Dario needs to make the rounds, he brings me with him as Kelli drags Gianni onto the dance floor. I know so many of these people; I've seen them at my parent's house for a myriad of parties and ridiculous fundraisers. Seeing them again on Dario's arm is different, it's irritating that they view me with respect and some fear, but only because of my mobster spouse.
“Congratulations, the club is gorgeous,” Mayor Flannery is here and gushing slightly, shaking Dario’s hand and then mine.
“Thank you,” he says smoothly, “this isn’t the night, Mayor, with so many reporters here, but we’d love to take you on a tour of the upper level of the club sometime.”
Her eyes widen and she titters. Shetitters.This woman is known as a ball buster and Dario’s made her giggle like a schoolgirl.
