Cut & Blow: Book 1

by Giannoccaro, Ashleigh

  She says with her head in her hands.

  I let myself out and go home to my wife.

  Twenty-Five

  Layer

  AILEE

  Calling Chelsey, asking her to come over to my new home, made me feel sick. But I don’t want to lose my friend, so she’s going to have to try and understand that this is my life. If I want it to be or not.

  I don’t want to be alone and I have no clue how late he will be out. Business can mean all sorts of things for people like us. I don’t want to know.

  He said it was personal, and I have a thought. What if he’s going to see another woman? What if he loves someone else? What if he’s getting what he needs from another woman?

  Albert has gone to fetch Chel’s and I can’t shake the feeling that I don’t want him to be with another woman, that he’s mine even if I don’t want him.

  In that thought I see how it must have felt for him when I started dating Trent. Surely, if he brought me here and did this all now, there isn’t someone else. Last night it didn’t feel like there was someone else. It felt like we were the only two people on Earth.

  When I hear the car pull up I am outside the back door, inhaling my fourth cigarette in about ten minutes. I snuff it out in the pot plant beside the door and go back inside to greet my friend, and show her where I live.

  “Hello!” she calls from the front door, as I make my way to the entrance.

  “Hi, I’m coming.” When I get to her, she has wide eyes and she’s looking around like a child in a toy store.

  “Jesus, this is where you live?”

  “It was a wedding gift.” I say like it’s nothing.

  But, there’s no denying it, the house is impressive. Chelsey doesn’t come from money, and her and her two sisters have supported the whole family for years now.

  “I’d marry for a house like this.” She laughs, trying to make light of things.

  “Come inside, we can’t stand here all night.”

  She follows me back to the kitchen. “Coffee or wine?” I ask, knowing her answer already.

  “This is a wine situation I think, don’t you?” Her voice is far away, as if she is still taking in her surroundings.

  “Wine it is.”

  I grab two bottles, two glasses and an opener, passing some to her to carry, and we head to the den where I was watching TV.

  “Where is the husband?” she asks, looking around, like he’s going to jump out of a closet somewhere.

  “He had to work tonight.” I’m not sure what else to tell her, because that’s all I know. “I told him I was having you over. You can still visit as much as you want, Chel’s. I just moved, I’m not dead or in jail.”

  Well, maybe it’s a little like jail, but I’m not telling her that.

  She uncorks the expensive looking bottle of wine and pours it into the glasses. Filling them to the brim, as if she knows how much wine I need to deal right now.

  “It feels weird,, LeeLee. I feel like I don’t know you. How could you not tell me any of this? On Friday you had a boyfriend. One I liked. Then by Monday you have a husband, new address, and this sad look in your eyes that makes me worry. Should I call the cops? Have you been kidnapped? Is this that Stockholm thingy that you read about in books?”

  I want to laugh, but my mouth is full of red wine and I’m sitting on a white sofa.

  “No, I haven’t been kidnapped Chel’s. Good Lord, your imagination sometimes. I know it’s a lot to take in, and that you don’t understand, but this is just how it is for people from families like ours.”

  “You mean for the children of organized crime?” she says, sniffing her wine and making a face. “Romi explained to me a little. I still think maybe I should call the cops.”

  “Calling the cops is the opposite of what you should do. The exact opposite.” I shake my head. Chelsey puts her full glass down without taking even one sip. “Don’t you like my expensive wine?” I ask. She’s usually two glasses ahead of me by now.

  “No, it’s not the wine. I don’t feel so great. I think I ate a dodgy sandwich at lunch today. My stomach is all mushing and I’m a bit green.”

  Her description is already TMI for me, so I don’t ask more.

  “Want a water instead? Rain doesn’t drink, he has a whole refrigerator full of water.”

  “Your husband doesn’t drink? He might need to start now that you live here.”

  She laughs, and I feel like maybe this is all going to be okay.

  I remember the wedding, how much he drank and how he changed when he did, and a shiver makes me shake a little.

  No, I don’t want him to drink. Maybe I shouldn’t either. I put my glass down, which is only half empty.

  “So, want to tell me about the gray haired man in Armani from this morning?”

  She blushes, and I know something is up. She never blushes, nothing embarrasses her.

  “I met him at the club a few weeks ago, well in the restrooms at the club. He’s a lot older than me, like he could be my dad, but my goodness can he do stuff in the bedroom.” She’s bright red now. “Like he knows exactly what he’s doing with what God gave him. I can’t get enough.”

  My friend is a nympho. I have known this awhile, but now boning old men it just seems gross. Then I think about the gap between Rain and I, and how good last night was, and I’m blushing.

  “Spill it LeeLee, that face says you’re keeping gory details from me. I want to know.”

  I don’t know if I want to tell her, biting my lip I think about it. “I got very drunk last night and did a very stupid thing. But, it was good. I want to regret it, but damn I just can’t stop thinking about how I want it to happen again. You might be right about the older man thing. He’s not old enough to be my dad, but he’s older. A lot older.” She is lapping up every word.

  “You fucked him, didn’t you, you dirty bird? Was it good? How drunk were you? Do you remember? Drink that wine, if you are wasted then you have an excuse to make it happen again.” She laughs, shoving the wine glass at me and almost spilling it. “I need the details. And wait, how old?”

  “Rain is thirty-three. And I am not giving you details.”

  She shakes her head with a cheesy smile. “It’s fine, I’ll just imagine them for myself. They will be so much dirtier that way.”

  We both laugh and I finish my glass of wine.

  “He’s a lot older than you,” she points out.

  It hadn’t bothered me until now. I image that gray haired old man she was with and feel a bit gross about it. “You have zero room to talk. How old is lover boy?” I ask, turning things back to her.

  “Fifty-eight,” she says sheepishly.

  “Are you kidding? Please be kidding! Chelsey, he’s like grandpa age. Can he even get it up?” The wine is making me relax and I throw my head back, laughing with her.

  “If he can’t then he’s got a prescription for viagra, because we’ve had no issues,” she says, trying to contain her giggles and be serious.

  “I can’t unhear that!” She swaps my empty glass for her full one, adding to the healthy buzz that I already have.

  These glasses are huge.

  I make a note to myself to fill them halfway next time. “You have issues, woman.”

  “I have issues? I don’t have a secret husband coming to claim me in the middle of the night. Let’s not start on our issues.”

  She’s right.

  The two of us are still chatting and laughing on the sofa, sitting cross legged, two empty bottles of wine on the table in front of us, when I hear the front door open. It must be Rain.

  Chelsey looks at me with big eyes like, she’s going to be in trouble for being here, and goes really quiet.

  “It’s fine. He knows you are here, Chelsey. I actually think you’d like him. Organized crime aside he’s not bad.”

  She gives me a look and I know she thinks I’m crazy.

  “I’ll get a taxi home.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket.

&
nbsp; “You don’t have to go.” Please don’t go, don’t leave me alone. I’m not ready to be alone again.

  “Ailee, I have work in the morning. So do you. And one of us will have a hangover.”

  She laughs at me and points to the wine bottles. Shit.

  “I’ll ask Albert to come fetch you,” I say, looking around for my phone.

  “No. I’ll catch a taxi. Driver guy gave me the willies, it’s fine Ailee.” I let my head fall a little with disappointment.

  I missed this. I got so caught up in Trent that I forgot how much I love spending time with her.

  “Okay, but you are waiting inside. This isn’t the stand on the sidewalk sort of neighborhood. Someone will call the cops.” I eyeball her outfit of fishnets under booty-shorts, and a very cleavage-revealing tank top with glitter on it.

  Chelsey has her own style. It falls somewhere between 1983 and hooker. We burst out laughing, and when Rain enters the room I am still trying to control my giggles.

  “Hi,” he greets, standing at the door, like he’s unsure of whether or not he is welcome.

  “Hey.” I stand up and go over to him, taking his hand and pulling him into the room. “Rain, this is my best friend Chelsey. Chel’s this is Rain, my husband.” It sounds ridiculous, and I can see she wants to laugh.

  “Hello, Rain. It’s nice to meet you.” She stands and shakes his hand, then looks at me. “I’ve called for a taxi, so I’m going to go. I’ll see you at work in the morning.” She winks at me, being naughty, focusing on where I’m still holding his hand in mine.

  I let go quickly. “I’ll walk you out.”

  “Why isn’t Albert driving you? Taxies aren’t safe,” Rain says.

  “He gave me the willies, sorry, but I’d rather take my chances with a taxi.” She smiles and starts out the room, not giving him a chance to answer or argue, and I follow her.

  When I open the front door, her the taxi is pulling up. She hugs me tight, and says, “I expect all the details tomorrow. And if you are kidnapped I’ll break you out of here somehow.”

  I laugh at my friend and her sense of humor, but I know her heart is in the right place.

  “Night Chel’s. I love you.”

  I let her go and she jogs down the steps, hugging herself as it’s cooler out now and she’s exposed in that silly outfit.

  * * *

  When I get back to the den Rain has cleared up our mess and straightened the throw pillows on the sofa, turned off the TV and made sure everything is exactly where it belongs. He comes in from the kitchen, and we just stand and face each other for a second.

  “I would have cleaned up, I just wanted to say goodbye,” I say, because I actually would have.

  “It’s fine, Ailee. Did you two have fun? You certainly looked like you did.” He has a small smile while he strokes his beard with one hand, the other shoved in his pocket.

  “We did. I needed her to see that I was okay. She wanted to call the police.” I laugh a little, but he doesn’t seem to find it funny at all. “She won’t. I’m joking, Rain.”

  I shake my head. He is very serious, all the time, intense, like he wouldn’t know fun if it slapped him in the face. I sway a little. I am drunk, maybe that’s why it’s funny to me.

  “You’re drunk, aren’t you?” he asks, coming closer now.

  His hands hold on my shoulders, to steady me.

  “A little.” I giggle.

  “Let’s go to bed, Ailee. And I mean sleep. I’m not doing this. Not while you are drunk.” He sounds pissed. “We need to talk in the morning when you’ve sobered up.”

  Talk, that’s never good.

  I nod my head. I’ve disappointed him. I can see it in his eyes, he’s upset that I’m drunk.

  In the bedroom I pull on one of his t-shirts, brush my teeth and climb under the covers. When he climbs into bed I get the faint smell of a woman’s perfume and I roll over, hug myself and try not to cry.

  I was right, he went to see another woman. That’s why he said sleep, he was with someone else already.

  We fall asleep with our backs to one another, both angry.

  Twenty-Six

  Blow

  RAINIERI

  She was angry at me, and I wasn’t exactly happy with her, but I didn’t want to fight. I want to try and be reasonable, to understand even when I actually don’t.

  We both just went to sleep, angry and confused. My alarm goes off at five-thirty in the morning and I roll out of bed to get showered and make breakfast.

  When I stand up I see she isn’t in bed. I look around, but I don’t see her. I don’t think she’d just run away, so I go and get in the shower. It’s a busy week and I need to get things set up for the salon to change hands. I want it done quickly now.

  I don’t want Gina to have time to resist, or find a way out of this. I was excited to come home and tell her last night, but when I saw how drunk she was it upset me; put me off. I didn’t want her reaction to be diluted by alcohol. I’m doing this for her, to show her that I am more than what she thinks I am.

  My father has called a family meeting this afternoon and hasn’t said more to me about it. I worry when he does this sort of thing, usually he talks to me first.

  My mind is busy with all these things, and adding Amelia into it right now was probably not the best idea I’ve ever had. Even if my father does actually seem happy about it.

  Dressed for work, I make up the bed neatly and tidy the bedroom, before I go and see where she is. But before I can find her the overwhelming smell of smoke and the blaring smoke alarm from the kitchen alert me to her whereabouts.

  She certainly isn’t very good at being a housewife at all.

  When I see the flaming pan on the stove and her panicked face, I laugh. It’s not really funny, it’s dangerous, but damn if it isn’t hilarious to me.

  “What are you doing?” I grab the pan, dumping it in the sink and turning on the faucet. A cloud of steam hisses and sizzles. Grabbing a chair I stand on it and turn off the smoke alarm.

  “I wanted to make you breakfast, but I really shouldn’t be allowed in the kitchen.”

  That’s an understatement. I look around at the mess and silently thank the lord that my cleaning lady is coming today. Shaking my head, I open the windows to let the smoke out, and turn to her. “Go shower. We will stop for breakfast on the way to work. I’ll take you to your diner.”

  I can’t be mad, not when I see her face light up.

  She dashes out of the kitchen. I think it’s more to get some fresh air than anything else. I follow her, and wait on the chair in the bedroom while she faffs about in the bathroom for way too long. I hear the hair dryer and the sound of bottles and tins clanging about in there.

  I scroll through my emails and send my sister a message while I wait. My dad is still seriously pissed off about her running off to study, but I tried to rationalize it to him as best I could. We all miss her, especially Viviana. She’s lost her other half and is driving us all crazy with her neediness. Maybe Ailee and her will hit it off, I can only hope. They seemed to be okay at the office.

  When Ailee comes out of the dressing room she’s wearing silver heels, stone washed skinny jeans, a white cut off t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. Her hair is down and mussed in waves and curls, and the pink lipstick makes her lips look even more kissable than normal.

  I am staring at her, but I can’t look away.

  I’ve seen her ready for work before, but always from a distance. The last two days she’s not been herself and didn’t put any effort into dressing for work. Not today, today she looks hot as all hell, and the twinkle in her eyes tells me she knows it.

  “Come here,” I say out of nowhere, and certainly didn’t expect her to actually listen to me.

  When she walks towards me her hips sway, and I catch a glimpse of her stomach between her jeans and that too-short shirt. She stops right in front of me, between my stretched out legs, and looks down with a playful smile.

  For me, t
he attraction to her is something so deep it’s impossible to ignore, and I wonder if she feels the same fire burning between us that I do? If she wants to kiss me, like I want to kiss her?

  I reach out to where her hand is hanging at her side and grab it, pulling her onto my lap. She laughs, and the sound makes me want to bottle it and keep it forever.

  “What are you doing, Rain?” she asks playfully.

  “Inspecting this outfit. I don’t think you should be going to work in it. You will drive the men crazy and I might have to shoot someone.” I joke with her. I like this side of her, the laughter and the smile, it’s a good change from the fear in her eyes.

  She grabs me by beard and pulls me close so our noses touch. “No shooting anyone, Rain. Not today, please.”

  Before I can say anything she kisses me, the grip on my facial hair tightening, and pulling painfully.

  She really has me by the short and curly’s.

  I hold onto her, my hands on her ass, and I allow her to kiss me, knowing I’m going to have pink lipstick all over my face when she’s done.

  The sensation of her body on top of mine and the scent of her perfume makes me grip her harder, and I kiss back with a force that matches the fire building inside me.

  When she stops kissing me she rests her forehead on mine, looks me in the eye, and asks me, with a shaky voice as if she doesn’t want to know the answer, but needs to, “Where were you last night? And don’t lie. I won’t lie to you, but you can’t lie to me either, Rain. You came home smelling like another woman and I want to know where you went.”

  She’s possessive of me. My chest swells at that thought, her anger was from jealousy. She doesn’t want me to be with anyone else, and that thought alone gets me hard.

  “I went to see Gina.” I have nothing to hide. I planned to tell her at breakfast, but this seems so much better. “I made her an offer, and she accepted it.” This time I kiss her, the temptation too much for me to handle. “I bought the salon for you, it’s yours. You are the boss, and you can do what you like with it. I told you Ailee, I won’t take anything from you. I want to give you the world.”