144 - Stay Out of Trouble

“According to police reports, the name of the shooter in last evening’s incident at Angelina’s Ristorante is Anthony Michael Bongiovi, brother of rock star Jon Bon Jovi.   It is still unclear at this time what the nature of the altercation was, or how Anthony came to be in possession of a weapon at the time.  The name of the victim still has not been released.”

“Fucking tremendous,” Tony muttered.  “They’re making me sound like a gang-banger going around and popping a cap in somebody’s ass for fun.”

“You know better than to listen to that,” was Dorothea’s bland statement from the sink.  Tony was finishing his coffee, and she was loading the dishwasher.  The kids had inhaled breakfast and gone about their lives in the various corners of the house.

“No, actually, I don’t.”  Shoving back from the table, he took his empty mug to the sink and rinsed it out.  “I’m not the one who lives in the media’s fish tank, that’s my brother.  Are you getting us confused?”

Eyebrows flew into her brow with shock before slamming down over angry eyes, and she very slowly and very deliberately pivoted to face him.  Droplets of water from her wet hands spattered across his shirt when she slung them at him.  “What did you just say to me?”

Smooth move, Einstein. Of all people, she doesn’t deserve your frustration.

“That’s not the way I meant it.” 

She snatched her hand away before he could grab hold of it.  “I get that this is stressful, but you’ve been around this long enough to know how it plays.  Don’t start taking jabs at me.  I know exactly which Bongiovi was in my bed last night.”

And he had been.  All night.  Just after four this morning, when he tried to sneak away  to the guest room, she’d sleepily asked him to stay.

“What about the kids?”

“I’m not an abusive crack whore,” she informed him muzzily.  “I’m doing my part to be a responsible mother.   If sleeping with my fiancé scars them beyond repair, Jon can pay for therapy.”

He had burrowed back into the bed and pulled her close, chuckling into her hair.  “Sounds like a plan, Babes.”

Tony’s phone pealed from where it lay on the table before Dorothea could lay into him any further, or before he got the chance to crawl out of the hole he had so effortlessly dug.  It was Jon’s ring.  No doubt something about the flurry of news blurbs.

“It’s Jonny,” he said apologetically, snagging the phone and then leaning back to capture her wrist.  “Don’t go anywhere yet.  Please.”

Hair swinging with the indifferent shake of her head , she extracted her hand and went back to loading the dishwasher. 

“Yeah, bro?” Tony sighed into the phone.

“Sounds like you’ve been watching the news.”

“Yeah.”

“Fun times,” was Jon’s sarcastic reply.  “Calling for two things… Well, three.  One, the wedding has been moved back a day.  We’re getting married tomorrow afternoon instead, so tell Dottie there won’t be caterers invading the house today.”

“Okay.”

“Two, Petey wants to go ahead with the bachelor and bachelorette parties if you guys are cool with it.”

Tony glanced warily at Dorothea.  “Yeah, I’m cool.  I’ll check with Dorothea and see if she still wants to do the bachelorette thing though.”

Her response was to arch one disdainful eyebrow.  She would be more receptive once he’d smoothed things over.

“And three,” his brother went on, completely unaware of the tiff he was interrupting.  “Petey and I have talked about it.  We’re going to make a statement to the press this afternoon.  Neither one of us has any desire to watch this shit leak out one bit at a time while everybody builds it into some big organized crime thing.”

“Amen to that.”

“So, since you’re in the thick of it and they’re throwing your name around, if you wanna be there...”

“Are you going to answer a bunch of questions after?”

“Hell, no.”  His brother declared adamantly.  “A prepared statement and that’s it.”

“I have to think about that, but tell me where and when just in case.”

After providing the information, Jon went on to ask, “Can you and Rich work out the bachelor party details and let me know?  Petey and I have about another dozen calls to make.”

“Yeah, sure.  I’ll give him a call.”

“Thanks, Tone.  For everything.” 

Petey piped in from the background, “I know this is sudden, but I love you, Tony!”

Tony grinned.  Who would think the little Mistress of the Dark would have fully wormed her way into their fold in such a short time?  This was what it was all about.  Screw the press.  They could say whatever they wanted as long as all the assorted family members were safe.  “Yeah, I love you, too.”  What the hell?  “Both of you.”

Jon’s, “Yeah,” was gruff.  “See you later, man.”

“Later.”  He’d barely depressed the right spot on the screen before he tossed the phone aside and sidled up to Dorothea, who had moved on to wiping the countertops.  Curling an arm around her waist, he hauled in her in close and bent to nose in her hair. “Babes, I’m sorry for being a dick.”

“You should be.  Now kiss me and we’ll call it done,” she haughtily demanded, offering her pursed lips.  When he obliged, she smiled with satisfaction.  “What did Jon want?”

“Bachelor and bachelorette party stuff.  That, and he and Petey are doing a press statement this afternoon and asked if I wanted to be there.”

“Are you going to?”

Did he let big Brother handle it all, or did he make his face present?  He was really a background guy, and preferred to keep it that way.  “I don’t really want to, but I don’t want anybody thinking I’m ashamed of what I did.  What do you think?” 

She went back to wiping the island, not looking at him.  “That’s your decision to make.”

“But I’m asking your opinion.”

“Okay,” she said slowly, folding the dishcloth and hanging it over the sink.  “My opinion is that you should go.”

“And…?”

“And nothing.  Jon’s name is the one drawing attention to this, but you and Petey are the ones who are facing legal repercussions.  Even if you don’t say anything, it’s just like you said, you did nothing to be ashamed of.  People should know that you’re not.”

“Okay.  Will you go with me?”  He fully expected her to say no.  Without a doubt.  But he wanted to make sure she knew he wanted her at his side.

She pushed a hand through her hair, sighing.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.  It will just start a whole other tangent for them to feed on.  Idiots will probably have me in a three-way with Petey and Jon rather than engaged to you.”

“Okay,” he repeated, closing in to brush her mouth with a light kiss.  Tony tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear with the rest of its friends.  There was no need to belabor the point.  “Just letting you know you were wanted.  Speaking of which, Petey wants to go ahead with the Last Night of Freedom parties.  Are you still in for the bachelorette gig?”

Her hesitation was easily read.  She didn’t want to, but she was going to anyway.  Tony knew she would, because it was the right thing to do. 

“Sure.”

“There’s nobody like you in the world, Dorothea.”  Another quick kiss and he slid away, telling her, “I need to call Rich about the guys’ party.”

☠ ☢ ☠

“Yeah?” Richie’s voice cracked and he cleared his throat.  It had been a long-ass night.  By the grace of God, he’d stayed away from the honor bar, but a long night with nothing but his guitar and his thoughts had given him a pity-hangover.

“Get your lazy ass up,” Tony chortled in his ear.  “You’re not on the left coast today, California boy.”

“Fuck you, little brother.”  His eyes were gritty and he dug at them, trying to get what felt like sand out of them.  “What the hell do you want?”

“Jon hasn’t called you?”

He might have.  Richie could be a heavy sleeper sometimes.  “I dunno.  I just woke up.  Maybe.”

“Well, the wedding’s not ‘til tomorrow and Petey says the traditional night-before parties are still on.  You and I are supposed to figure out the details for the guys.”

Details. 

“Yeah.  Okay.  Still wanna do the Lanes?”  The carpet tickled his bare feet as he slowly worked out the kinks and moved around the bedroom.  He flicked his laptop to life to see if there were any urgent emails.  Nothing from Denny.

“Unless you’ve got something better.” 

A traditional bachelor party with a stripper was sounding a whole lot better than a family bowling trip to the Lanes in Richie’s mind.  He needed to get laid. 

“I’ll have…”  He’d almost volunteered Denny to make the arrangements, but thought better of it, and mentally recruited Jon’s PA instead.  “…Monique make a coupla calls and see what she can set up.  You take Obie, Southside & Matty.  I got Dave and Teek.”

“You take Southside, I’ll get Petey’s brother.”

Richie had forgotten about him.  And the Senator.  Between the Senator and Jon’s kids, his opportunity to troll for a little feminine company was effectively nixed, and that sucked ass.  He could use the diversion of blowing off a little steam.  For once, he wished he had a regular east coast hook up.  Somebody tall, blonde and leggy.  Somebody like…

“Sure, sure.  No problem.”  He cleared his throat and took a shot.  “Hey Tony, don’t you have some Amazon blonde on your crew?  I think I met her at the Christmas thing.  Cindy?  Candy?”

“Candace,” Jon’s brother supplied hesitantly.  “Why?”

Act like it’s no big deal.

“Think she’d wanna go to a wedding with me?”

“What the..? No.  Nuh-uh.”  Tony’s voice went hard.  “What the hell happened to Denny that you need to make a move on Candace?  I thought she was coming to the wedding?”

Not going there.

“Denny’s in California living her own single life.  As my assistant.” Richie’s voice had its own edge. 

Soft cursing came over the line.  “And you can’t find somebody else to hook up with besides my crew?”

“You know what, never mind.  Forget I asked.  I’ll let you know about the plans as soon as Monique calls me back.  Later, man.”

“Hold up a damn minute,” Tony swore with a gusty sigh.  “Yes.  I’m pretty sure Candace would give her right arm to go to a wedding with you.  You want I should give her your number?”

“Why not just give me hers?”  He knew it was a shot in the dark, but it would give him more time to consider the wisdom of what he was doing.  Sex could be good with anybody.  He’d made it good with anybody.  But would this chick turn into a clinging vine afteward?

“No, motherfucker.  We went through this with Petey.  I can pass along your number if ya want, but that’s it.”

Could this woman give him anything he couldn’t get at his own hand?  Was she worth the hassle? 

Probably not, but she’ll keep my mouth and hands out of the honor bar.

“Yeah, pass it along.  Thanks, Tony.”

Next post: Thursday, August 2nd