Mister Gregory by Sveva C Modignani

Mister Gregory by Sveva C Modignani

Author:Sveva C Modignani [Sveva Casati Modignani]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781497636545
Publisher: Mondadori


14

OPENING night at the Piccolo Club was proving to be a roaring success. The place was packed and people kept pouring in. The kitchen and bar were running at full tilt; smileful waiters were serving the tables impeccably. Al Tarantino played the role of gracious host to a tee, exchanging witty banter with clients he had known for many years. On their part, the Hollywood celebrities took turns basking in the limelight amid thunderous applause, the flashes of the paparazzi and abundant laughter.

Outside, bouncers kept the crowd in check as people elbowed and shoved to get into the glitzy new temple of entertainment.

Upstairs, hidden from sight behind a mirrored glass wall, Sal Matranga and Anthony Rapello looked down on the festivities, pleased that the club was starting off on the right foot.

Despite the noise and commotion, everything was running smoothly. No plates or glasses had been broken, nobody was getting drunk, not a single waiter had committed a misstep, and Al Tarantino was brimming with pride.

As he waited on the tables, Gregorio put aside the generous tips that at the end of the night would be split up among the waiters - they were adding up to a hefty number of dollars.

At a certain moment, a woman’s shouting could be heard, coming from the area next to the entrance. She was a stunning creature in an evening gown, railing against a bouncer for blocking her way. Out of nowhere, Al Tarantino was at the scene in a split second. All eyes converged on the spectacle. The flashbulbs of the photographers popped. Gregorio planted himself in front of them to obstruct their view, since the stunning and irate creature, dressed in a sky blue taffeta gown and throwing insults, was none other than Nostalgia, Sal Matranga’s daughter.

“My father owns this place and I could have you all fired,” she yelled. Then she saw Gregorio. “Not you again! Everywhere I turn, there you are,” she snapped.

He put his hand gently on her shoulder and said softly: “It’s all right, Nostalgia.”

She calmed down at the sound of his voice.

Just then, Anthony walked up. “Call a car and take her home right away,” he instructed Gregorio.

In an instant, calm was restored.

Gregorio picked up the mink stole that had slid off of Nostalgia’s shoulder and slung it around her. Holding her firmly by the arm, he guided her outside where a Corvette was already waiting with the motor running. Gregorio opened the door and let her in, walked around to his door, climbed behind the wheel, and set off for Brooklyn.

Tears streamed down her face as he handed her his handkerchief.

“It’s all right,” he repeated in a low voice.

“I don’t want to go home,” she stuttered, drying her eyes.

She was clearly drunk and he didn’t want to contradict her.

“Maybe you should collect yourself first. Your hair’s a bit messy and your mascara’s running.”

“I hardly had anything to drink. I had a right to be let into that party. My father shuts me out of everything. And for the record, I couldn’t care less about my mascara.



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