Chapter 7CANDI

Chapter 7

CANDI

"The boss wants a word." Nina, one of the cocktail waitresses who makes a habit of kissing Gino's ass, waits expectantly.

Like I'm going to stop getting ready and rush off to talk to the jerk-off assistant manager right this second.

Not happening.

I'm on in fifteen minutes and I still have to apply my false eyelashes. My least favorite part of doing my makeup for the stage, I always leave it for last.

"Did you hear me?" Nina demands.

I hold my breath as I get the second eyelash affixed to my eyelid.

Only when it's in place, do I reply. "Yes."

"He's not going to be happy with you making him wait," Nina says in dour warning.

Rolling my eyes, I turn from the mirror. "Unlike you, Nina, I don't spend my time here trying to make Gino happy."

Kissing up to the smarmy assistant manager might be worth it to the cocktail waitress to get preferential treatment in the schedule and backroom access, but I'd rather find another club to dance in than kiss up to that jerk.

I'm thinking about leaving regardless. Gino is putting pressure on both me and Bianca to offer extracurriculars. Not content with the extra cut he's taking out of our tips, our boss wants us to earn him a percentage of the more lucrative backroom business.

We're the only two dancers who don't and if Bianca gets the job at Amuni, I'm out of here.

"Maybe you should." Nina gives me a smug look. "He's your boss, Candi."

"Leave her alone, Nina. Candi is the only dancer who makes as many tips as I do." Piper, the OG dancer glares at Nina. "Unlike your replaceable ass, Gino isn't going to fire her if she doesn't hang off his dick."

"Whatever. I'll tell him I gave you the message," Nina huffs. "Don't blame me if he's pissed."

I don't roll my eyes again, but I want to. As long as I refuse to sell my ass so he can get a cut of the proceeds, Gino is going to be pissed at me. And I'm more than okay with that.

"He's in his office, if you're interested," is Nina's parting shot.

It's Ugo's office, but if Gino is playing top dog, the GM must not be in. Ugo was a better assistant manager than general manager, that's for sure.

He didn't care about the welfare of the dancers or club staff, but he sure as heck never tried to push me into selling my ass either. He respected our boundaries and no way would he let employees suck his dick for a better schedule.

Doesn't make him a hero though, because he's letting his assistant manager get away with it.

With ten minutes before I have to be onstage, I hotfoot it to Gino's office. Being a Wednesday night, the club's only about half filled.

I knock on the door and wait for an answer, not out of respect for Gino, but because both my biological and foster moms raised me right. I only had Bonbon until I was ten years old, but she was a good mom and Mira is the best.

"Come in," Gino yells after making me wait nearly a minute.

Opening the door, I see one of the other cocktail waitresses rising from her knees as she swipes at her mouth. Smirking at me, like blowing the boss is some kind of badge of honor, she leaves.

Poor Nina might be out in the cold when it comes to next week's schedule.

I stop about midway to the desk. "Nina said you wanted to see me?"

"I'm sorry for what happened last Saturday. You will be paid for a full night even though you left early and without a word to me." The words say one thing, his disgusted expression says another.

Someone else is behind this apology. Ugo? Maybe he cares more about the dancers than I thought.

But that last dig was pure Gino.

"Angelo said he would square it."

"Angelo Caruso is a customer, not management."

"Okay." If Gino's waiting for me to say I'm sorry about leaving on Saturday, he'll be disappointed.

"Have you thought any more about taking on more responsibilities?"

That's what he calls selling my ass and mouth. Taking on more responsibilities . What a joke.

"I'm fine with the responsibilities I have."

Gino narrows his eyes but he just flicks his hand toward the door, dismissing me.

I don't linger.

The bouncer who was in charge of the floor last week steps in front of me on my way back to the main room. "Hey, Candi. You got a second?"

He's got a black eye and busted lip that are at least a few days old. Did things get rowdy Saturday after I left? None of the dancers have said anything.

So, probably not. Gossip spreads like an STD without a condom around here.

"I'm due on in a couple."

"Won't take long. Listen." He pauses, then shakes his head. "I'm really sorry about Saturday. I should have got to you before Mr. Caruso. I was closer."

"Then why didn't you?" I ask.

"Gino waved me off. He doesn't like me interfering with the dancers and clients."

"Isn't that your job?" It's looking more and more like I'm going to have to find a different one soon.

"It should be."

"Meaning it's not?"

"Not since Gino took over." He touches his split lip. "But I'll be doing it for you from here on out."

"Why?"

"Because Gino can just fire me. Angelo Caruso can cut off my hands."

"Cut off your hands?" I gasp. "What do you mean?"

"What do you think he did to Ronnie?" The bouncer frowns, looking scared. "Never mind. Forget I said anything. Just don't worry about being safe on the floor, Ms. Candi. I got your back."

"You should have all our backs." Mira would be proud of the scold.

I sound just like her.

"Yeah, I should." He squares his shoulders. "Gino's not my boss. Ugo is."

I don't need the reminder, but maybe he does.

"Okay, well, good." He nods and turns to walk away, favoring his left leg.

Did Angelo beat him up for not doing his job?

After the way he broke Ronnie's wrist, it's entirely possible.

I reach backstage with seconds to spare, but the girls are huddled in a circle talking and I'm as addicted to gossip as the next dancer.

I rush over. "What's going on?"

"Bianca quit without notice. She's not coming in tonight."

"She got the job?" I don't do a thing to stifle my delight at the prospect.

Piper nods. "I guess. All I know is she's not coming back."

A grin takes over my face. "Good."

With Bianca gone, there's nothing holding me to this club.

"Listen, girlie, don't you go looking for another club to dance in," Piper says, like she's reading my mind. "Gino's not going to force you to offer extracurriculars. I'll make sure of it."

We all know that Piper has connections with the mafia that owns this place. What those connections are is unclear, but when someone needs to talk to management, she's the one to do it.

No one knows about my relationship with the Genovese. My biological father made sure of that long before my mom, his former mistress, died.

"If Gino doesn't want the same thing happening to him as it did to Ronnie, he'll back off," one of the other dancers says.

"It's true then?" I ask. "Angelo cut off his hand?"

Piper nods. "It's true all right. I've got a friend who works the ER. She confirmed it."

"Is he in jail?" I ask, more concerned for my dark savior than the perv who assaulted me.

"Are you kidding?" Piper shakes her head. "Ronnie told the ER it was a home improvement accident. No way is he ratting out the Genovese Mafia's top enforcer."

Something weird pings inside me when I learn who Angelo is. And it's not revulsion.

"It had to be him. My customer came rushing back into the room after we finished. I thought he wanted more." She makes a face that the others share sympathetically. Some johns get clingy.

Not that I've experienced, but the other dancer's talk.

"Only he didn't want anything to do with me. He was trying to hide from something in the hall. I cracked the door to see what was going on and overheard Mr. Caruso talking to Ugo and the big boss, Nerissa De Luca. He was saying something about not killing Ronnie and just cutting off his hand."

She gives me a pitying look. "I'm sorry, Candi."

The other dancers look at me with equal concern.

Only I'm not worried.

"That's all kinds of messed up," another dancer says.

I don't say anything. I think I'm messed up too. Because the only thing I feel toward Angelo Caruso is gratitude.

"Candi, that's you," one of the dancers yells and I realize we're already 16 bars into my intro music.

I rush onto the stage and leap up onto my pole with an exuberance I haven't felt in a long time, whipping my hair and smiling at the punters.

Angelo Caruso cut off a man's hand for touching me.