The lawyer took her aside to assure her that Manny hadn’t changed the will recently; in fact, it had read exactly this way since the day they divorced.
“He told me that you brought him beauty,” the lawyer said.
So Madeleine, already rich from her own efforts, is now wealthy. She can easily afford the half million dollars she dropped on this party.
A full big band from one of the shows is playing “All the Things You Are”—one of Manny’s favorites—and earlier a big recording star with her own show sang “My Funny Valentine.”
One of Manny’s favorite comedians, one of those “insult comics,” did a roast of him—“When Madeleine said ‘I do,’ the minister asked, ‘You do?’ No, but Manny really liked the horses, you know. Why not? He had a face like one. Hey, don’t tell the horses I said that . . .”
Madeleine had brought in the whole Las Vegas circus—musicians, singers, comics, jugglers, acrobats, musicians, and, of course, the showgirls. Now they all circulate among the guests, performing their tricks or just displaying their beauty, and it’s a party that she knows Manny would have loved.
She’s admiring one of the showgirls when Pasco Ferri walks up to her.
The old mob boss traveled from Florida to pay his respects and to represent other bosses who didn’t think they should make an appearance in public. He was an old friend of Manny’s and Madeleine has known him for years.
“A beautiful party, Maddy,” Pasco says.
“I think he would have liked it,” she says. “Tell me, how’s my son?”
“Danny and me, we don’t talk much.”
“I know the feeling.”
“He’s a good kid, Danny,” Pasco says.
“He’s not a kid,” Madeleine says. “He has a child of his own now.”
“I heard. Every happiness.”
Madeleine shrugs. “I haven’t seen my grandson.”
“Danny’s like his old man,” Pasco says. “Stubborn. You heard about Irish Alzheimer’s? They forget everything but the grudges.”
“I worry about him,” Madeleine says. “This thing with the Morettis. Anything you can do there, Pasco, I’d appreciate it. You know I can open certain doors here. I’m not without influence with the gaming commission, for instance.”
“I didn’t come here to do business, Maddy,” Pasco says. “Just to show respect.”
“Of course.” As if, she thinks, showing respect isn’t part of doing business.
The party finally dies down, the guests drift off; the cleanup crew starts its work, tearing down tables, taking down tents, hauling out garbage.
Later that night, Madeleine lies in bed and strokes the young man’s cheek.
It’s soft, almost downy.
“That was nice,” she says.
Kelly smiles. Straight, white, perfect teeth. “I was hoping for something a little better than ‘nice.’”
“You didn’t get sufficient praise when I was moaning your name?” she asks. “You need more affirmation than that?”
He shouldn’t, she thinks. He’s a lovely, lovely young man and he knows it. The quarterback for the local college football team, he must have cheerleaders and coeds all over him, and yet, for some reason, he likes to come and bed me.
It’s not just the gifts she gives him—the clothes, the watches—it’s also something in him that likes older women.
And thank God, she thinks.
Madeleine has no illusion that she’s exclusive, she doesn’t want to be, and she certainly doesn’t want him falling in love with her. All she wants is a regular, reliable, good fuck with a beautiful body, and Kelly is all of that.
His physique is perfection.
It’s been a good thing, and she’d like it to continue, but he’s starting to get a little needy.
And arrogant.
Right on cue, Kelly says, “I made you come like a rocket and all you can say is ‘nice’？”
She props herself up on an elbow and looks at him. “Kelly, do you know the difference between you and a vibrator?”
He looks puzzled, and a little scared.
“The vibrator can twirl,” Madeleine says, “and it costs far less to maintain.”
She’s about to elaborate when the phone rings.
It’s Terri.
She’s crying.
Thirty
Sal knows he’s gotta do something and do it quick.
Right now he has Peter’s support, but that ain’t gonna last forever. Peter Moretti is the original “what have you done for me lately” boss, and with rumors swirling that Sal is gay, he wants something done for him lately. Already guys are starting to turn their faces when Sal comes into a room. He hears the whispers as he walks past them at a bar, sees the smirks from the corner of his eye, knows that Frankie V has been running his mouth.