Page 30 of Mafia and Gold Digger

“How are you ever going to get her to like you if you don’t spend any time with her? She just needs to get to know you a bit, and then she’ll start to understand all the amazing things I see in you.”

And as he gives me his special smile, I give in. “Let me just get something from my locker.” He nods with a grin as I flee to the staffroom out back.

“You’re early, Ma,” I hear Ronnie say.

“I wanted to spend some time with my favorite boy before my birthday party starts…”

I groan. Ronnie didn’t tell me that it’s his ma’s birthday—or that she’s having a party at the casino tonight. Dumping my bag in my locker, I wonder what I’ve done to deserve this? If I’d have known that Ronnie’s ma was going to be here, I definitely would have turned down this extra shift, even if it meant that I would lose out on the much-needed cash. Because Ronnie’s ma takes iciness to a level that goes beyond the coldest temperatures at the North Pole. She really hates me. Although Ronnie says most of it is in my head.

But every time I see her, she ignores me. Or if she does lower herself to look at me, the only thing I get from her is a dirty look. My friends say all mothers are hard to win over; but if you ask me, Italian mothers are a whole different species. To them, looking after their precious sons is akin to participating in an extreme sport—they devote endless energy to the pursuit of this single cause and would even lay down their life if needed.

Looking in the mirror, I straighten my dress—a gorgeous number in a shade calledMetallic Melody.

Pulling back my shoulders and standing up tall, I walk back to the main floor. But as I approach, I can clearly hear his ma’s not so dulcet tones ringing out across the casino.

“Why are you so upset, Ma? I don’t get it. What’s up?” Ronnie is trying his best to calm her down.

“What’s up?” she snaps. “I’ll tell you what’s up. Marjorie Martinelli just called me and told me that Elsa Liabardi’s ex-aunt’s cousin’s wife’s best friend just saw you in a restaurant with that God-awful girl who’s a slut just like her hooker mother?—”

The wordslutrings in my ears.

“Ma,” Ronnie interrupts, “Emerald’s mom isn’t a hooker. She’s an escort.”

“Oh please, her mom can call herself whatever she likes, but everyone knows what she really does when men pay her.”

“Ma, you’ve got it wrong?—”

“How could you let me hear it from Marjorie Martinelli of all people?” she yells. Oh jeez, Marjorie is the biggest gossip in town. “The shame! Have you no consideration for your own ma? I raised you to be better than this, Ronnie Mainetto.”

“Ma, Emerald’s a nice girl.”

“A nice girl,” she scoffs. “What, with a family like hers! Everyone knows that Emerald Fiorelli is nothing but a gold digger who thinks that her way back into our wealthy mafia circle is by acting like a whore just like her mother.”

“Ma, you should just give her a chance and let yourself get to know her.”

“What, like youlether give you blow jobs in the back of your car? Don’t think I don’t know how she got her claws into you in the first place!”

I wince, a tide of heat rushing up my cheeks. I haven’t actually ever done that in his car, but it’s clear she has a pretty low opinion of me. And now everyone else in the casino knows this as well, given how loud her voice is.

“Why don’t we all go out to dinner together one evening so you can talk with Emerald properly?” Ronnie is suggesting.

I peek around the corner and watch as she cuffs him around the ear. “I don’t want anything to do with that girl.”

“Ma, you’ve got it wrong. Emerald doesn’t do that sort of work like her mom does.”

“Oh, please. Like mother, like daughter. She spread her legs so that you’d notice her. Why else would you even glance at a girl like her? You’re a great catch, while she’s not even worth as much as the trash in the gutter.”

Anger and upset swirl within me.

“I’m not having that girl anywhere near me or our family. Think about what you’re doing to our reputation after all the years your father spent building it up! Keep away from her, Ronnie. I know her type. She’ll get herself pregnant just to trick you into marrying her.Don’t ruin all the plans I have for our family.” I wonder what plans she means…

“You just have to get to know her, Ma.”

“I know her type, thank you very much,” she snaps. “I knew her family before her dad betrayed the organization. And let me tell you, Emerald Fiorelli is just as much of a whore as her mother is.”

Ronnie gives a light chuckle. “I know you don’t really mean that, Ma.”

Er,doesn’t she?She sounds pretty darn convincing in her hatred of me.Sometimes,I really have to wonder about Ronnie’s powers of deduction.

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