Teddy looked at him. “What shit?”
“I still can’t believe a man like Sal Gabrini would hire a gay underboss. I know I haven’t been in the family long and I don’t know him like that. But the great Sal Gabrini with a gay underboss? He just don’t seem like the type to me.”
“He’s not.”
“Then what gives?”
“Robby gives. He was Sal’s underboss before Sal found out about his sexual preferences.”
“And he kept him anyway?”
Teddy nodded.“Yes.”
Marco nodded. “That takes guts. I’m not gonna lie. That takes guts. I see the way they still treat Nikki sometimes just because she’s a black underboss. I can’t imagine how much flackRobby Yale gets. Because let’s face it. Sicilian mobsters aren’t exactly the model of open-mindedness.”
Teddy grinned. “Ya’ think?”
Marco grinned too.
But their smiles dissipated when an SUV drove up and that same Sal Gabrini, with his underboss Robby Yale, stepped out.
Marco shook his head. “Look at Uncle Sal in his patented double-breasted suit. Always sharp as a knife. And I hate to say it, but no matter how hard he tries to pull it off, he can’t shake that mob boss image the way you and Big Pops can. He can’t shake it.”
“Maybe he doesn’t want to,” Teddy said, as he and Marco began walking toward the SUV. “If it ain’t Salvatore Luciano,” Teddy said when he got up to that man who was his cousin in actuality, but whom he called Uncle Sal as a sign of respect. They did the customary half-handshake/half-hug bro greeting. “How the hell are you doing, Uncle Sal?”
“I’m here,” Sal said as they stopped embracing. Then Sal looked at young Marco. They were moving him along a little too fast for his taste. “Hey.”
“How you doing, Uncle Sal?”
“I’m here,” Sal said again. “But what your ass doing here? Anything dealing with Cleo should be highest level only.” Then he looked at Teddy. “And Ted knows it.”
“Take it up with Pop,” Teddy said with his hands up. “If it was left up to me my son wouldn’t be involved in none of this shit. Especially not with that bitch. It was Pop’s call.” Then Teddy looked at Robby and smiled. They were close. “What up, Dog?” he said as they embraced.
“I’m good, I’m good,” Robby said. “Frankie Paletti tells me you put your money on the Dodgers over the Yankees and had to give him a small fortune for your error in judgement.”
“You listen to Monk if you want to,” Teddy said. “I didn’t give him shit.”
Robby laughed.
“Where’s Nikki?” Sal asked. “Looks like she would have been the one riding shotgun in this situation.”
“She’s on her way to Essence.”
Sal frowned. “What the fuck is Essence?”
Marco was astounded. “You’re married to a black woman and never heard of the Essence Festival, Uncle Sal?”
“Oh you mean that thing-a-ma-thing in New Orleans they have every year?”
“Yeah, thatthing-a-ma-thingis the Essence Festival. Auntie Gemma’s not going?”
“She can’t,” said Robby. “She’s in the middle of a hotly contested court case, and she’s the lead attorney. That’s why Curtis, as her office manager, can’t go this year either.”
“I’ll bet he’s pissed.”
“He is,” Robby said and then glanced at his boss. Sal took a lot of heat for keeping him on as his second-in-command after he came out of the closet. But that didn’t mean Sal ever wanted him discussing his private life, orboyfriends, on the job. Robby hated it, especially when he had to listen to all the other capos talk about their girlfriends, but he knew it was what it was in their world and he’d better be glad to still be standing. “I’m gonna check it out one of these days when Pop and Big Pop aren’t working me like a Hebrew slave.”
Robby laughed. But Teddy knew Sal Gabrini didn’t fly to Philly for the hell of it. “What brings you to town, Sal?”
