Chapter One

Calogero was smoking his third cigarette of the hour when she finally came into sight. The first thing he saw was a beautiful pair of legs, long and shapely even in a conservative pencil skirt. His eyes lingered there just for a second before they rose slowly over the rest of her body and up into her beautiful face. Her eyes were amazing- he had always thought they were her best feature. It was strange that the first compliment she'd ever given him was that he had beautiful eyes. Because he'd been thinking the exact same thing about her. It was as though she had stolen the words right from his own mouth.

"Hi," she said it shyly, the way good girls usually do and he grinned at her, a big shit eating grin that he reserved especially for her.

"Hi." He put out a hand and cupped her soft cheek before kissing her hello. She tasted of mints and she smelt like shampoo. He wanted to kiss her forever but it was only a few seconds before they were brought crashing back to reality.

"Traitor!" Came a yell from across the street.

He released her and threw a glance in the direction of the voice. It was a broad, three of them in fact, all black and all from Jane's neighbourhood. He threw his cigarette out into the road and glared at them all.

"What you looking at, white boy? What's the matter? Can't find any white girls?"

Jane was tugging at his hand but he didn't respond to it. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the girls.

"Jealousy sure is ugly," he called back coolly.

They scoffed at his response and there were more insults and mutters but they didn't bother him. It never bothered him when they took a pop in his direction. When they called Jane names though; that was when he couldn't contain himself.

"Come on." He pulled her towards him and after a few seconds, he looked down at their hands entwined. His slightly tanned skin looked almost a milky white next to her smooth dark hand. She followed his gaze and smiled down at their hands.

"You think they'll ever give it up?"

"Sure," he said breezily. "They'll get bored soon enough. Screw 'em." He was careful to say 'screw' instead of 'fuck'. It wasn't exactly polite but it didn't make her wince like the F word did.

They walked quickly, and soon enough, the black neighbourhood gave way to Italian, and the sights and smells changed from Jerk chicken and reggae to pasta sauce and doo wop. He didn't like to say it out loud, but he was more relaxed now. Sure, the Italians liked their relationship as little as the Blacks did, but at least here, he was on home turf. At least here, he felt better equipped to defend Jane.

It still hurt to pass the Chez Bippy. He knew Carmen was in there now instead of Sonny. In charge instead of Sonny. Breathing instead of Sonny.

Jane squeezed his hand and he glanced over at her in surprise. She wasn't looking at him but her grip remained comforting and he knew she knew what he was feeling. And that was exactly why she was his girl.

"You tell your Mom yet?"

Jane sighed and shook her head.

"Willy says I shouldn't. But someone's gonna tell her one of these days anyway."

He digested this. He didn't blame her for not wanting to tell her mother. He hadn't wanted to tell his Pop but it had seemed the manly thing to do- to come clean and stand up for what he wanted. It hadn't gone as well as he planned.

"I started seeing this girl, Pop. I really like her." He shouldn't have blurted it out the way he did, at the dinner table with his Mom there, but he needed it off his shoulders.

"Oh yeah? Who's the girl? We know her?"

His Mom was smiling encouragingly at him as his Dad dug into the chicken and he had hesitated for a moment. Just a moment though.

"She's a black girl, Pops. From Webster Avenue."

You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife.

"Say that again, Son?" His Dad was gesturing with the dinner knife and for a moment, he looked for all the world like one of Sonny's crew. Somebody that could be smiling one second and slice you from throat to gut in the next.

"She's from Webster Avenue."

The knife and fork clattered down onto the table top.

"That's not acceptable, Calogero. Not acceptable. Where do you think something like that is gonna lead? Marriage? 'Cause let me tell you, men from this neighbourhood do not marry girls from Webster Avenue."

"Whoah." Calogero raised his hands in a typical Italian gesture and forced a laugh. "No-one's talking marriage, Dad. I like her, that's all."

He threw a glance at his mother who was staring at him like he had just grown another head.

"Is it true they eat goat?" She asked him, like because he was with Jane he was now the official guru of black culture.

"What's that gotta do with anything?" His Dad demanded. "It's not about what they eat. It's not about what they are. It's just that you should find yourself a nice Italian girl. Someone who understands you, and the Italian way."

Calogero pushed his food round his plate and tried to remain calm.

"I don't like an Italian girl. I like a black girl. And I'm gonna go out with her. I'm not asking permission."

"You're not-" His Dad started to echo the question before he took a breath. "Calogero, I can't make you do as I say, but I will never support this. I'm disappointed in you."

His Dad pushed back his chair and walked out into the bedroom. Calogero looked across the table at his mother.

"What about you?" He asked her.

She shrugged, and he realised it wasn't very often he asked his Mom's opinion.

"Is she a nice girl, Calogero?"

"Yes," he said, wholeheartedly. "Real nice."

"You know people are gonna give you a hard time for this?"

He shrugged.

"I don't care about that."

"Then neither do I." She reached over and squeezed his hand. "You just be careful, okay?"

He couldn't remember a time when he loved his mother more.

"Calogero." Jane nodded behind them. "Somebody's calling you."

He'd been lost in thought and hadn't heard the calling or the patter of someone trying to catch up but now he could see it was Dante, Slick's older brother.

"Hey, how you doing?" Calogero let go of Jane's hand to shake Dante's. Dante looked at Jane and paused for just a second before he extended his hand in return.

"What's happening, C." It wasn't a question, just a form of greeting so Calogero only nodded in response. "Haven't seen you around much lately. My mother's been asking after you."

At the mention of Slick's mother, Calogero felt queasy inside. He hadn't seen her since the funeral of his friend and in some small way, he was glad. He felt guilty to be alive when Slick wasn't.

Calogero glanced at Jane and suddenly remembered his manners.

"Dante, this is Jane. Jane, this is Dante. His brother was a good friend of mine."

He saw Jane's eyes cloud over as she realised Dante's brother was one of the boys killed in the car fire but she handled the situation with her usual grace and tactfulness.

"Hello." She gave Dante a wild smile. "Calogero, I'm just going across the street for a drink. You want anything?"

He didn't want her going into the Italian store alone but she was giving him and Dante some space and he respected her for it.

"Nah, I'm good," he told her.

"Alright then, I won't be long. It was nice to meet you, Dante." She walked out into the street, looking both ways as she crossed. Calogero loved her walk. She had the sexiest walk in the world.

"Yeah, likewise." Dante said, and Calogero knew she'd charmed him some by the look on his face.

Neither of them said another word until Jane was inside the store.

"Nice looking chick," Dante said.

Calogero smiled his thanks.

"You think you'd avoid that sort of trouble though. After what happened to Slick."

It was always strange to Calogero that they had all called him Slick. Even his mother had.

"She's not trouble."

"Maybe not her, but her family, her friends, her neighbours..." Dante's eyes were dull and lifeless. The anger from the funeral was gone.

"She's more important than any of that shit." It felt good to say it out loud but he still felt bad for his friend's brother.

"I hope so," Dante shrugged. "You should come over for dinner soon. My mother misses you."

Calogero wished he could agree whole heartedly to the invitation.

"You give her a kiss from me. And take care, okay?"

Dante shrugged again and patted him on the arm before he began to walk away. Calogero made his way across the street and into the grocery store.

Jane was at the register. He leaned in the doorway and smiled as he watched her. He loved to watch her. She had two cokes on the counter, (one for him despite his refusal) and she was smiling politely at Mrs Dimarco. But it was when he looked at Mrs Dimarco that his face fell. She was glaring at Jane like she was something the cat had dragged in. And when Jane held out her money, Mrs Dimarco made a real show of not wanting to touch her hand.

Calogero felt his blood boil.

"Hey, there you are," he said, swooping in. He put an arm around Jane and kissed her full on the mouth. Jane looked mortified but Mrs Dimarco gaped at them both. Nosey bitch, Calogero thought. She'd been in his business since he was tall enough to see over the counter.

Calogero held out his hand for the change but Mrs Dimarco now looked like she didn't want to touch him either.

"It's okay, Mrs D. It's not catching," he said to her as she dropped the coins into his open hand. He hadn't thought she could look any more shocked but she proved him wrong. Calogero guided Jane to the door and opened it with a flourish. "After you," he said, winking at her.

She gave him a wry smile and he followed her out into the street.

"Did you have to?" She sighed.

"Yeah," he told her, giving her the coins. He thanked her for the coke as he took it from her.

"How was your friend?" She was changing the subject but it was no use. Whenever they weren't talking about the two of them, the prejudice toward their relationship always came back to topic.

"Not so good. That was Slick's brother. His mother wants me to go over for dinner."

Jane digested this carefully as they opened their cans.

"You gonna go?"

He shrugged, wrapped his free hand in hers and took a swig of the ice cold coke.

"I might. What you doing Saturday night?"

She gave him a sideways smile.

"Something with you?"

There was a naughty gleam in her eye and he smiled right back.

"I was hoping you'd say that. There's this party on..."

Her face fell immediately and it was all he could do not to sigh. How did she expect anyone to accept them if they hid away all the time?

"Aw, come on, Jane. The fella's a friend of mine. There'll be booze and music-"

"And racist jokes and spiteful girls."

"I'll sock every one," he teased. But when she looked at him like that, he couldn't get mad at her. "Okay, what if we go for an hour and then go to the movies?"

A smile tugged at the corner of her lips until she finally gave in to it.

"Okay. But just an hour."

"I promise," he said. He backed her into a streetlight and kissed her long and hard, wanting to crush her against it. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him back just as fervently. When she finally pulled away, he smiled dazedly down at her. Man, she was hot.

The only dampener to the situation was the familiar noise of the bus rumbling by. Calogero glanced up at it and right into the eyes of his father. He raised his hand cautiously in greeting but Lorenzo Annello gave him one last look before turning away.

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