“How was your breakfast?” Dominic asked.
“Filling,” I answered and patted my tummy.
“I’m glad you ate something. I’ve been worried about you.” He reached over and caressed my cheek.
“I know. I just needed some time and still do.”
“Take as much time as you need. I won’t rush you.” I could see the love he felt for me reflected in his eyes. Even as broken as I felt, he still loved me.
There was light knock on the door and Dominic jumped up to answer it. He was talking to someone and the voices grew louder as he walked towards the living room. When he appeared in the doorway he was accompanied by two women, one blonde and one brunette, who were wearing what looked like hospital scrubs.
“You can set up in here, by the windows,” Dominic instructed. Both women turned and headed back towards the front door.
“What’s going on Dom?” Several options raced through my mind: were we going to get tattoos…maybe a piercing?
“You’ll see,” was his cryptic answer.
The women returned seconds later and each carried a folding table. They assembled the tables side by side. Once set-up I realized they were massage tables. I forgot the concierge had reminded Dom of our massages when we checked in. They draped cream colored sheets over the tables followed by a deep red chenille throw and set out an assortment of oils.
The blonde woman turned to me. “Hi, I’m Helen and your massage therapist.” I shook her hand.
“I’m Natalie.”
“Have you ever had a massage before?”
“No, I haven’t,” I admitted.
“You and your-“ she quickly looked at my left hand before continuing, “boyfriend are getting the Live Like A Rock Star massage and you have a choice of Swedish or Deep Tissue.”
“What’s the difference?”
“Deep tissue is deep, and really works the muscles. It works out any toxins that are trapped in your muscles and tissues. Swedish massage is gentler and helps to increase circulation and release stress. Since you haven’t had a massage before, I would recommend the Swedish.”
“Ok.” I took her word for it. “Dom, which one are you going to do?” I turned to look at him and found he was already face down on the table and it looked like he was naked, except for a towel draped over his butt. He looked just fine wearing nothing but a towel. His massage therapist answered for him. “Deep Tissue and he’s already asleep.” She smiled and then continued on massaging Dom’s broad shoulders, the oil making his tattoo seem darker.
Helen gestured for me to hop up on the table, like a pediatrician to a child. I started to climb up, when she stopped me.
“You should probably take off your robe first.”
I hesitated before I disrobed. My body was probably going to be a shock to this woman. I shyly shrugged the robe off and placed it in Helen’s outstretched hand. She looked at my body and didn’t have to say anything, her expression said it all. I looked at her apologetically as I climbed up on the table. I was uncomfortable at first having a stranger touch my body again, but Helen’s hands were gentle and the repetitive motion was soothing. It didn’t take long for my muscles to loosen up and for me to doze off.
“Baby, wake up,” Dominic whispered in my ear. I jerked awake, my face felt squished from being pressed against the massage table. “The massage is over.” I rolled over onto my side and Dom helped me up into a sitting position. I was sleepy, but felt refreshed at the same time. All the tension that I had been holding in my shoulders had been released and the tightness in my neck was gone.
“Wow, that was amazing!” I exclaimed. “I feel awesome!”
“You look radiant,” Dom commented. “I didn’t think you could be more beautiful.” I blushed and looked away. “I mean it,” Dom added and kissed the top of my head. I eased off of the table and held onto the sides until I knew my relaxed legs would support me. Helen smiled when she saw me upright. She must have seen that she had done her job well. Dom handed me my robe and I quickly slipped into it.
The massage therapists packed up their things and left. I lounged on the sofa with my legs stretched across Dom’s lap.
“Is there anything else you have planned?” I eyed Dom with suspicious eyes.
“No, this was it. Now we can just do whatever we want.” He traced his fingers along my shins. “Is there anything you want to do?”
I looked out the window at the cloudless, sunny sky and realized it was too nice to stay inside. I jumped up of the sofa and reached out for Dominic’s hand. “Let’s go to the boardwalk!” I hadn’t felt this good in over a month and wanted to keep the demons at bay as long as I could. He picked up on my enthusiasm and grabbed onto my hand and heaved himself off the couch. I ran into the bedroom to get changed. He followed right behind. I pulled on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved v-neck black shirt. Since Dominic was watching me get dressed I think he noticed that I didn’t put on a bra or any underwear. I turned to watch him dress and he stared at me with hungry eyes. I knew what he wanted, what he had so patiently been waiting for. The thought of being intimate with him made me nervous, but I knew I needed to try.
“Later,” I promised.
“Really?” He beamed at me.
“Yes. We’ll try,” I assured him. Now it was his turn to be radiant and his excitement didn’t help to quell my nerves.
Even though it was the weekend, the Boardwalk wasn’t as crowded as during the summer season. After Labor Day the crowds slowly dwindle. This late in September, the days were still warm and the Boardwalk businesses remained open. Dom and I first visited the Ripley’s Believe It or Not! Museum and made our way down to the Central Pier and Arcade Speedway. With each video and skee ball game we regressed. The fried food on the Fairway didn’t smell particularly appetizing, but I wound up eating it anyway. At the end of the day, we sat to watch the sunset. First we shared a bench that faced the ocean. The water changed pink and orange to match the hues of the sky. As the sun set further, we crossed the boardwalk to face west. The clouds were as pink as the cotton candy I held in my hand. Once the sun had dipped below the horizon, Dominic and I strolled slowly down the boardwalk, hand in hand. We took a cab back to the Borgata. The casino was teeming with activity and we quickly made our way to the elevators and up to our room.
Dominic led me to the bedroom and I knew what was on his mind. It had been on my mind all afternoon too. Only, it was with more dread than anticipation. I was afraid of not being able to give in and allow myself pleasure. My hands felt cold and clammy and my mouth went dry as Dominic turned towards me. He leaned in to kiss me and I froze.
“Dom, I want to try, just take it slow with me okay?” I pleaded.
He pulled me close to him and ran his hand down my cheek. “I’ll go slow, just let me know if you want me to stop and I will.” His words helped me relax. I knew I didn’t have to worry about him hurting me. He placed his lips on mine and the connection flared. This wasn’t an ashtray disguised as a mouth. These were Dominic’s soft lips that still held traces of cotton candy. I greedily returned the kiss. All the dread and hesitation dissipated with that first kiss and we fell onto the bed together.
Dominic kept his word and went slow, deliciously slow. The massage had left every nerve ending in my body awake. He trailed soft kisses down my neck to my breasts. His touch was magnified twenty times on my sensitive skin. I begged him to enter me. When he did it was a perfect as our first night together. All the sparks were still there. I hadn’t lost them after all. Tears of relief escaped my lashes and Dom kissed them away.
“Are you ok?” he whispered.
“I’m more than ok.” I kissed his neck. “That was incredible and I am so glad for that. I really didn’t know how I was going to react.” I nuzzled up close to him and he hugged me closer. And despite sleeping in and napping through my massage, I fell asleep again.
Dominic’s cell phone pierced the silence. He gently rolled away from me to answer.
“He
llo?” His voice was husky with sleep. He sat with his back to me, hunched over. Suddenly his shoulders stiffened and he sat up straight as the person on the other end spoke. I was more awake now and listened in the dark to the one sided conversation.
“When?” Then after a long pause, “Shit!” Another pause. “No, I’ll tell her.” He hung up the phone and continued to sit there for a few minutes with his back to me. The silence was killing me.
“Dom, what is it?”
“I don’t know how to tell you this…”
“Tell me what? Is Grant okay?”
“Yes, Grant’s fine. It’s Brittany,” he turned to face me and grab my hand. “She’s dead.”
“What!” I pulled my hand away from his and sat up. “How…what…when did she die?”
“She hung herself. Grant went by to check on her this afternoon after nobody had seen or heard from her in a few days.” I sat in stunned silence. Just hours ago I had made the decision to live; maybe right around the same time Brittany had decided to die.
“Oh my God,” I choked out as grief consumed me. Dom moved over to sit behind me and I leaned back against him. He let me cry.
It was a long, quiet ride back to the city. Dom held my hand as he steered with the other and let me be. A million thoughts were competing for attention in my head and I had to sort through them to try to make sense of Brittany’s death. Why didn’t she ask me for help? Hadn’t I done enough to reach out to her? Didn’t she know that things would get better? I should have never let her move out of the condo when clearly she wasn’t ready to live alone. Did I betray her by beginning to move forward without her?
As we crossed the Walt Whitman Bridge and the skyline loomed ahead, Dom broke the silence. “Baby, how are you doing over there?” He massaged the side of my hand with his thumb when he asked.
“I’m just trying to make sense of it, you know? Why would she do that? She had options. I should have made more of an effort to be there for her.”
“Nat, this is not your fault, please do not blame yourself. Brittany had a lot of issues before…well, you know. Her coping skills weren’t there.”
“Yeah, but I should have known something was wrong when she didn’t return my calls.”
“Babe, maybe she needed some distance. You know, to sort things out.”
“Yeah, she sorted things out alright.” For some inexplicable reason I was angry at Brittany. I had heard people say that suicide is a selfish act, now I understood. What Brittany did was selfish and left me feeling guilty for being able to pick up the pieces of my life. Of course, I wasn’t gang raped at gunpoint, so I shouldn’t be angry. This shitstorm of emotions sent me into silence again. Dom left me alone as he concentrated on navigating through the inner city traffic.
When we pulled up in front of our building I was surprised to see a familiar sedan sitting in the visitor parking area. The FBI was back. I hadn’t seen them tailing me since our initial encounter, so I assumed that I was no longer of interest. Yet, there they sat. Fabulous. The dark cloud that had been looming over my head grew darker. Dominic felt me tense up.
“What is it?”
“See that sedan over there?” I tilted my chin in the right direction.
“Yeah.”
“My FBI friends are back.”
“Hmm. That’s interesting.”
“More like annoying. I hate being watched.” The valet opened the door for me and as I stepped out I waved at the occupants in the sedan and then walked through the lobby doors.
I leaned my head against the elevator wall and closed my eyes. I was exhausted. We had been going non-stop since Dom received the call about Brittany, immediately packing up our belongings and checking out of the hotel. Dominic was busy talking to Grant on his cell phone and getting the latest details about Brittany’s death. I tuned him out, not able to hear anymore.
The next few days passed in a daze. I was actually looking forward to going to work, just to be busy. I hadn’t been to Crimson since Brittany’s death and should have known that work was not going to take my mind off of it. Everyone was sullen and Allegra kept bursting into tears and running for the employee lounge. Not many people knew about what Brittany and I had been through and rumors were flying around about why she did it. Many thought she had just gone off the deep end and the party lifestyle got the best of her. Others speculated that this was a hit disguised as a suicide. Please! Even I knew that a mob hit was made to look like a hit every time – that was part of the message.
I mainly kept to myself and Grant, Dominic and Miranda were quick to shelter me. Miranda had me on the schedule to work the gun check for the next two weeks. Less interaction with my co-workers would be good. There were too many reminders of Brittany in the main part of the club, being sequestered into gun check was a blessing.
The funeral was held on a Tuesday, a week and two days after Brittany was discovered hanging from the ceiling fan in her living room. The coroner said that had Brittany weighed fifteen pounds more, the ceiling fan wouldn’t have been able to support her. Despite suicide being considered a sin and the fact that Brittany was raised Roman Catholic, the funeral was still held at the Saint Monica’s Church in South Philly. The church was a colossal, stone structure that dominated the corner it was built on. Brittany’s mother, a single mom like mine, sat in the front and was consumed with grief. Family and friends filled the first ten pews and even with the hundred or so that had gathered, the church seemed empty.
The priest began the service and his voice echoed off the walls, bouncing around the vaulted ceilings. Several people went up to read and speak about Brittany. They touched on her zest for living and how tragic her death was. How could someone so full of life and energy take such drastic measures to end it so suddenly? I knew the answer.
I wept openly and Dominic kept his arm wrapped around my shoulders through the service. I managed to glance around the audience and was stunned to see Marco sitting in the back. He had some nerve showing his face here.
“…let’s hope that this free spirit, who felt trapped here on Earth, has finally found her freedom and most importantly, she has found Peace,” the priest spoke his closing sentence.
After the service, the funeral procession drove to Woodlands Cemetery where Brittany was to be laid to rest. Dominic and I followed Grant and Miranda to the cemetery. The early October day was bright and sunny and it seemed odd to be attending a funeral on such a nice day. Wasn’t it supposed to be raining and dreary?
“I can’t believe Marco was there,” I blurted out.
“At the funeral?” Dom asked, trying to make sense of my random statement.
“Yeah, if anyone is responsible for Brit’s death, it’s him,” I spat out bitterly. “He let her get abused and raped; he in no way made any attempt to intervene!”
“You’re right, he let it happen. Maybe he was trying to make amends. That whole Catholic guilt thing is hard to shake.”
“Don’t make excuses for him. It was disrespectful for him to show up today,” I snapped.
“He couldn’t not show up, Nat, Brit was an employee of Crimson and therefore Marco’s employee. He needed to be there.” I crossed my arms in front of me and sulked the rest of the way. That would explain Marco’s presence at the funeral. He was just keeping up appearances – being a concerned former boss. I was still pissed that he had shown up.
To add insult to injury when we arrived at the cemetery and made our way over to the plot, I saw Marco standing off to the side. He didn’t have to attend the burial service too. Didn’t he know enough was enough? I was incensed; he had gone too far. I broke free of Dom’s hand and stormed towards Marco. He saw me coming and pretended to ignore me.
When I reached him I grabbed his arm and yanked him to face me. “You have got some nerve showing up here,” I hissed.
“Remember who you’re talking to Ms. Ross.” His cold, dark eyes seared into mine.
“You’re responsible for Brittany’s death and I hope that ha
unts you until you die.”
“Brittany was expendable. I’ll find another whore to replace her in no time. Are you interested in the position?” He cocked his eyebrow and smirked.
Without thinking I slapped him. All the rage, hurt and fear I had felt since my assault gathered behind my hand and he actually flinched. I reached back to strike again and was stopped. Dominic had caught up to me and held me back. Grant stood beside me and Marco addressed him.
“You better get your sister under control Grant. I’ll let it slide this time, but the next time she tries anything like this again…” He didn’t have to complete the sentence to convey his message. He turned and walked off towards his black Cadillac. Dominic continued to hold me back until his uncle was inside the car. I was trembling with the adrenaline surge - it had felt so good to slap that son of a bitch.
“Natalie, what the hell were you thinking?” Grant demanded.
“He had no business being here. Brittany needs to be left in peace.”
“Nat, that was not a smart move,” Dom chimed in on Grant’s side.
“I’m not sorry. He deserves many more slaps.”
“Please Nat, don’t push it with my uncle. You know how dangerous he is.”
“Fine,” I agreed. The rational part of me was returning as the adrenaline surge quieted down and I realized how lucky I was that Marco let me off easy. I turned and spotted Miranda on the edge of the crowd watching us nervously. No one else seemed aware of the exchange. We walked back together to join her. When Brittany was lowered into the ground, except for the sounds of grief, the cemetery was quiet as if nature paused to pay its respects too.
Dominic and I attended the small gathering at Brittany’s mother’s home. She lived in a small row home on Fitzwater St. The home was too small for all of the casseroles, lasagnas, stuffed shells, cookies and pound cakes let alone the fifty or so people stuffed into the living room and dining room. I made my way through the crowd to pay my condolences to Brittany’s mother. She sat on a faded blue loveseat and looked up at me with red, puffy eyes.
The Beautiful People (The New Mafia Trilogy) Page 20