“They probably would,” Carolyn admitted.
“Absolutely. And best of all, it's gonna make the Feds look fucking stupid, right?” Gio laughed. “Like they got nothing better to do than conduct surveillance on a goddamn mafia theme restaurant!”
The silver Corvette pulled up in front of Skizm, the hottest and most exclusive nightclub in Chicago. The neon signs danced and dazzled up the front of the three-story pink building, and throngs of stylish young man and women waited at the front entrance. The music boomed and thumped from inside, making the whole block seem to vibrate like a giant amp.
Gio turned to Carolyn with a sly wink. “Not bad, right? Bet you've never been here before.”
“That's...certainly true,” she replied, looking at the club dubiously.
A uniformed valet opened Carolyn's door for her. Gio got out, handing the keys over to him. “Here you go, Benny,” he said, slipping the valet a twenty.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Mancini,” Benny answered. He got in the car and drove it around to the parking garage behind the building.
“Isn't he supposed to give you a ticket for it or something like that, so you can claim it later?” Carolyn asked.
“Nah, they know which one's mine,” Gio said. “Come on, let's go.”
“How long do you think we'll have to wait to get in?” she asked, shooting a nervous look at the crowds out front.
“Pffft, fuck that,” said Gio. “We ain't waiting around like those assholes. Follow me.” He took Carolyn's arm and led her to a side door marked “Employees Only,” knocking on it.
The door opened a crack and a pretty blonde hostess in her twenties peeked out. When she saw who was standing there, she squealed happily, opening the door the rest of the way and giving Gio a big hug. “Gio! Hey! It's been weeks since we've seen you. What have you been up to?”
Gio grinned, patting her on the back. “Good to see you too, Brenda. I've been busy with my new restaurant. You should come check it out sometime. You still seeing that guy from DePaul, what's his name...Jason?”
“Yeah, he actually proposed to me last week!” Brenda chirped, showing off her new ring.
“Hey, salut', doll! Buona fortuna, I'm so happy for you,” Gio said, giving Brenda a peck on each cheek. He reached into his jacket pocket and produced one of the new promotional coupons for the restaurant, handing it to her. “Make sure you book your reception at our place, okay? Bring all your friends and family around. We'll take good care of you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Gio saw Carolyn standing to the side uneasily and watching this exchange. He knew he was being rude by not introducing her, but he was doing it on purpose. The longer he left her out of this warm exchange, the more jealous she'd become of the attention he was showing Brenda instead of her. Gio believed the best way to entice women was to keep them off-guard and to withhold affection from them just when they were starting to expect it.
Once they understood who was really in charge, they dropped the hard-to-get act and gave in. Every time.
Finally, as though it were an afterthought, he added, “Oh, this is Carolyn Aspen. She's an attorney. She's been working with me on the restaurant.”
“Nice to meet you,” Carolyn said, shaking Brenda's hand.
“You too,” said Brenda, turning to Gio again. “So you want your usual table?”
“Yeah,” Gio said.
“Okay, I'll have them set it up for you,” Brenda replied. “Just follow me.” She held the door open for them and they entered through the kitchen where cooks in crisp white uniforms prepared plates of tapas and barked orders at each other. Brenda snapped her fingers at a pair of busboys. Once they saw who was with her, the busboys immediately grabbed a small table and a couple of chairs, following them out to the main floor of the club.
The music thrummed and the dance floor was filled with dancing, gyrating bodies. As Brenda led them through the club, Gio paused at several tables to exchange greetings and embraces with people he hoped Carolyn would recognize—famous models, singers, hip hop artists, plus the children of Chicago's politicians and gangsters. He glanced over his shoulder at her, hoping to see how impressed she was.
But if she knew who any of these people were, she gave no sign.
The busboys set up the table and chairs, and Gio and Carolyn sat down. “Can I have them bring you anything?” Brenda asked.
“Yeah, give us a bottle of your best champagne,” Gio said. “We're celebrating. Also, who's the DJ tonight?”
“Vermicious T,” Brenda replied.