Chances

  “Hey, wait a minute,” Gino objected. “Where’s the girls?”

  “There was another girl here,” she said, “couple months ago. But she left to get married. It’s just me, tootsie.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “You first?”

  He shook her hand off. “Naw, not me!”

  She turned to Costa. “Money out, let’s see it.”

  Costa was anxiously scrabbling in his back pocket for some money.

  “Wait a minute,” Gino said, “I gotta talk to my friend.” He turned his back on the woman and spoke rapidly. “Let’s get the hell out of here. She’s a beast. Who the hell wants to stick it into that?”

  Costa was glowing with excitement. “I do,” he said simply.

  “Oh, Christ!” He couldn’t help laughing. “If you’re that anxious—”

  Costa was already counting out his money. The woman grabbed him by the arm and hauled him off to a side room.

  Gino paced around, waiting. They were back within minutes, the woman hitching up her skirt. “You, now?” she asked Gino, licking cracked lips.

  “Some other time.”

  Then they were out of there, on the street, roaring with laughter.

  “How could ya? She was a pig.”

  Costa was flushed with success. “It was all right, Gino, honestly it was. I don’t think I could have done it with anyone… well, y’know… pretty or young or anything like that. This way was just right. I didn’t care what she thought, so I just did it.” He giggled. “I think I liked it!”

  Gino slapped him across the shoulders. “Sure you did, you’re my friend, ain’tcha?”

  Gino’s first Saturday in San Francisco, he and Costa went swimming down at the wharf. When they returned, a girl was standing in the hall, the most beautiful girl Gino had ever set eyes on. She was of slight build, with white-blond hair and luminous crystal eyes.

  “This is my sister, Leonora,” Costa said casually.

  For once in his life Gino forgot about his cock and concentrated on his head. She was so… soft. Like no other girl he had ever seen. And his thoughts were like no other thoughts he had ever had.

  “So nice to meet you, Gino,” she said, extending a small hand. “Costa never stops talking about you—it becomes awfully tedious!”

  “Yeh.” He could think of nothing else to say. He just gaped at her like some green kid. As far as he was concerned, it was the most important moment of his life.

  In two weeks he saw her twice. She attended a weekly boarding school for young ladies and only returned home on weekends. It was hardly a situation that was likely to develop into a romance. And romance was on his mind.

  They had never been alone together. Indeed, they had never even had a conversation. But still… she knew how he felt. He could tell. He had caught her watching him across the dining table: those luminous blue eyes following his every move, the delicate lips quivering, the small hand brushing a wisp of hair from her face.

  He didn’t lust after her body; the feeling he had for her was completely different. He wanted to look after and protect her. Maybe even marry her.

  Jeeze! That thought put a smile on his face. Here he was, nineteen years old, a jailbird with no real prospects. And after paying off the lawyer he had hired to represent him he had exactly two thousand and seventy-five dollars in the world. Hardly a fortune. But not bad. He had ambition, too, and whether he made his pile legally or illegally he knew one day he would make it…. And when that day came he wanted Leonora right along there with him.

  Finally he found a chance to mention his plans to her. Two more weeks and he would be ass first on the train back to New York. Mrs. Zennocotti liked him, but old man Zennocotti was a whole other story. Oh, he was polite, even generous. But his eyes showed how he felt about the whole situation. He wanted Gino out of his life as fast as possible. It was written on his face as clear as newsprint.

  Leonora Zennocotti was well aware of the way Gino kept on staring at her, and it embarrassed and excited her all at the same time. “I think he’s nice,” she confided to her best friend, Jennifer. “But he never says anything to me. He just sort of gazes across the table. What shall I do?”

  Jennifer thought the whole situation highly romantic. “I wish I had someone who sat and stared at me,” she lamented. “Costa doesn’t even know I exist.”

  “Oh, Costa! He’s younger than you. How can you like him?”

  “Only seven months younger, and I do like him—you know I do.”

  “Come to stay for the weekend then. It’ll be fun.”

  Jennifer came home with Leonora, and that very evening, a lot of staring went on across the dinner table. Mary and Franklin Zennocotti were unaware of the teenage passions zooming around the room. Franklin had a headache and retired to his room before coffee, and it did not take Mary long to follow him.

  For the first time Gino found himself in a room with Leonora without her parents cramping his style. “How ya doin’?” he mumbled. “How’s school?”

  She licked pale lips. “Fine, thank you.” A short silence, then, “And you? Are you enjoying San Francisco?”

  “He’s having a wonderful time,” Costa replied.

  Leonora pursed her lips. How Costa had changed since Gino’s arrival. She liked the fact that he had blossomed forth, but she didn’t appreciate his answering his friend’s questions for him.

  Another silence, then Jennifer broke it. “Couldn’t we all go for a swim? I’m so warm, and it would be such fun.”

  “Yeh,” Gino agreed. “Great idea.”

  “Poppa would never allow—” Leonora began.

  “Poppa would never know,” Costa interrupted. “He took his headache pills, and if we are very quiet—”

  “Why the pool anyway?” Gino asked. “If we went down to the wharf we wouldn’t hafta worry ’bout bein’ quiet.”

  “Oh, yes!” Jennifer loved a bit of excitement. “Please!”

  “We can’t leave the house,” Leonora declared primly.

  “Hey, dontcha wanna get t’know me better?” Gino was staring at her again.

  She quite literally felt a shock of excitement course through her body and changed her mind quickly. “I’ll get my bathing suit. Come on, Jennifer, I can lend you one of mine. We’ll change upstairs and wear our coats on top.”

  “Good girls.” Gino nodded his admiration.

  Half an hour later they were swimming in the murky dockside water. “This is so exciting!” Jennifer squealed. “Costa, come on, I’ll race you.”

  Gino moved closer to Leonora. She had pinned her long pale hair on top of her head, and they trod water next to a fishing boat. “I ain’t much good with words,” he blurted out quickly, “but I gotta tell you how I feel.”

  Leonora felt her pulse quicken. “Yes?” she breathed softly.

  “Well… like… y’know… well… Jeeze. I don’t know what love is supposed to be. But, Christ! If it’s like a cold, I got it—y’know?” He reached for her hand. “I really got it.”

  “I know what you mean,” she whispered, “and I think I’ve got it too.”

  “Hey!” He felt like bursting with happiness. It was a feeling he had never been hit with before.

  Together they swam in until they could stand. Then, very gently, he took her face in his hands and kissed that mouth. He was careful to avoid body contact, but she was leaning into him, returning his kiss, and he could feel soft breasts, warm thighs, and he knew she must be able to feel his hardness that even the cold water was failing to control.

  “I love love love you,” he mumbled between kisses. “Love love love you.”

  “Me too, Gino, oh—me too.”

  His hands automatically went to her breasts, and she didn’t push him away. He still hadn’t had a woman since leaving jail—but this was Leonora he was with, and he controlled his basic instincts.

  “Oh, Christ!” he muttered. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

  “Why? Let’s do what we want to do.” She was
kissing him passionately. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

  At that moment Costa and Jennifer came splashing through the water. “Come on,” Jennifer complained, “you’re no fun. I thought we were going to race.”

  Reluctantly Gino let go of Leonora. “Sure,” he said.

  “Yes,” agreed Leonora, her voice still breathy.

  “You two race first,” Gino said, “then we’ll follow.”

  “We already did,” Jennifer complained. “Come on.”

  “Maybe we should go,” Costa suggested. He was uneasy about what he sensed was beginning to happen. He had seen Leonora and Gino separate when he and Jennifer had returned. It didn’t thrill him. His friend was taking advantage, and that wasn’t right.

  “Yes, let’s go,” Jennifer agreed. “I’m getting cold and this water is ucky.”

  They all climbed out. “We forgot to bring towels,” Leonora groaned.

  The girls had only their coats to wrap over their wet suits, and Costa and Gino merely pants and sweaters. The walk back to the house was one long shiver.

  Gino put his arm protectively around Leonora and drew her close to him. “Listen. I know we ain’t had much time together, but I know what’s right, and we’re right—you and I. I knew it first time I set eyes on you.”

  “I think I knew it too,” she murmured. “When I looked at you I felt a closeness that I’ve never felt with anyone—not even my parents.”

  “I’m no angel,” he mumbled. “Done a lotta things I s’pose I shouldn’t’ve done. But I’m no bad person. You know, I never had anyone who cared what I did anyway.”

  “I care.” Her voice was soft.

  He squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll get married,” he said firmly, “that’s for sure.”

  Costa glanced round at them and glared. “Hurry up,” he said brusquely.

  “How?” Leonora whispered. “My father will never allow it….”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll get married. I give you my solemn promise.”

  She stopped walking and turned to look at him. “I wish it were possible. They’ll say I’m too young, and you haven’t got any money and—”

  He held her face in his hands. “Stop it.” His voice was harsh. “Just stop it, O.K.? We’re gonna get married, maybe not right away, but as soon as I can get some money together. We’ll wait. It won’t be easy, but we’ll do it. Right?”

  Her beautiful blue eyes were shining. “Right.”

  He bent to kiss her, his mouth hungry.

  Costa turned around, saw what they were doing, and ran back to drag them apart. “Jeeze!” he exclaimed, using one of the words he had picked up from Gino. “What’s going on with you two?”

  Leonora giggled. “We’re in love, little brother, we’re in love!”

  “Oh, no.” Costa groaned. “You can’t be.”

  “We are”—she smiled excitedly—“and we’re going to be married!”

  “How absolutely marvelous!” chirped Jennifer.

  Gino found that he was grinning foolishly. “I’m gonna be a married man!” he hooted. “Can you imagine that?”

  “No, I can’t,” snapped Costa. “I don’t know what’s got into you. I think you’ve all gone mad.”

  “Congratulate us,” Gino insisted. “I’m your best friend, she’s your sister—you should be dancing in the streets!”

  “Gino.” Costa’s voice was firm. “Think sensibly. What about my father?”

  Gino was cocky. “We won’t tell him yet. When I go back to New York I’m gonna make a pile of money and send for Leonora. He won’t object when I’m rich.”

  Costa shook his head in amazement. He couldn’t believe what was happening. And he was frightened, because the only result would be trouble. He was clear-headed enough to know that if his father even suspected what was going on it would be Gino on the first train back to New York and out of all their lives forever.

  Leonora, Gino, and Jennifer were dancing around in the street, giggling, laughing, and dripping wet.

  “Let’s go home,” Costa said dourly.

  “Oh, you’re such a grouch!” exclaimed Jennifer. “Don’t you like adventures?”

  “Only when they have happy endings,” replied Costa grimly, suddenly feeling much older than his sixteen years.

  “This’ll have a happy ending,” Gino assured him. “I know it. I’m Gino Santangelo, and when I know something you can be sure I’m right.”

  Costa nodded. “I sure hope so,” he said. But in his heart he knew that his friend was wrong.

  Gino returned to New York fired with ambition. For the first time in his life he had something—someone—to work for. Leonora would wait for him. Their future was in his hands.

  The remainder of his visit to San Francisco had flown by, with only one more intimate moment alone with her, but they could say more with their eyes than most people could say in a lifetime.

  Even Costa began to realize how serious they were.

  On the night before his departure Gino sneaked into Leonora’s bedroom, and they had a long talk, firming up their plans for a future they intended to spend together. They kissed, chastely at first; then it started to become more. “You can take me if you want,” Leonora had breathed softly. “I’ve never… you know. But Gino, with you… well, I don’t want you having to go with… other women…. I know that men have certain needs.”

  He forced himself to draw away from her. “I can wait if you can,” he said simply.

  “But we don’t have to, Gino.” Her cheeks were flushed. “We love each other, and if two people are in love then surely nothing can be wrong?”

  He looked at her, so soft and lovely and vulnerable. He wanted her so much that he felt his hardness might burst through his trousers there and then. “It’s not wrong, it’s just something we should save,” he said.

  Whoever thought that Gino the Ram would be coming out with those sentiments? Certainly not Gino himself.

  In New York the first thing he did was get himself a room. Two blocks away from his previous place and another dump, but he only needed it to sleep in until he got himself in action. Anyway, he had to think seriously about saving every cent and dollar he could. He still had his bank account, which held a big seventy-five bucks, but better than that was his safe deposit box with over two thousand in crisp fresh bills. He reckoned he needed a lot more than that before he could even think of sending for Leonora. He would need a decent place to live, a car, and a lot of money. Franklin Zennocotti would never let his daughter go unless Gino could support her in some style.

  His first move was to go straight over to Fat Larry’s and check out what was happening. It was early evening and the place was crowded, but no familiar faces, just a lot of green kids sucking on milkshakes.

  “Where’s the old gang?” he asked.

  The counterman looked around furtively. “Things bin changing ’round here, Gino. Go in the back and knock twice on the door used to lead to the storeroom.”

  Gino whistled with surprise. Fat Larry’s had become a speakeasy. He made his way through the old storeroom, down a flight of stairs into what used to be the cellar, and there it was—a dimly lit room with round tables, jazz music played by a four-piece band, and leggy waitresses in fluffy little costumes. It must have taken plenty of money to make the transformation.

  Sitting at a table was Pinky Banana in a real sharp pinstripe, with a cigar stuck in his fleshy lips, and a glass of hooch which he was feeding to the little blonde sitting on his knee.

  And wasn’t the blonde Miss Cuteness? Older, because of the lipstick and permed hair, but with the same arrogant spoiled look about her. Miss Cuteness. The girl that had occupied his thoughts wholly until Leonora had entered his life. Now she was just another dame, and a cheap-looking one at that.

  “Hey.” He headed in their direction. “Pinky?”

  “Gino!” Pinky Banana was on his feet at once. “When they let you out, chump? How was it?”

  He made a face. “What can
I tell ya, pal? Only thing I know is I don’t recommend it as a vacation spot.”

  Pinky Banana laughed and hugged him. “So I’ll buy ya a drink, ya can tell me all about it.”

  “Excuse me,” Miss Cuteness said sharply, tugging on the sleeve of Pinky Banana’s jacket.

  “Huh?… Oh, yeah…. Gino, you remember Cindy, don’tcha?”

  “Sure I do.” He grinned at her. “She was always so friendly, how could I ever forget her?”

  Cindy glared at him. “Oh, yes,” she said tartly, “Gino Santangelo. G - I - N - O. Wasn’t I supposed to be hearing a lot about you?”

  “Y’will, doll, y’will.” He ignored her and turned to Pinky Banana. “Look at you then! Y’look like you’re makin’ out pretty good. Last time we was together you was flat on your back in the hospital with a coupla busted gams. What happened?”

  Pinky Banana tapped his head. “I got smart. Remember that talkin’-to ya gave me in the hospital? You was right. Who the hell busts their ass gettin’ covered in other people’s shit? I got smart, an’ I’m a big man ’round here now, Gino. You better believe it. A big man.”

  They sat down, and Pinky Banana snapped his fingers for drinks.

  “So what d’ya do?” Gino questioned.

  Pinky Banana lowered his eyes. “I—uh—take care of things for people. Important people.”

  Gino was silent. Didn’t want to press any further. Taking care of things could mean anything. Better discuss it alone together, not with Cindy breathing down their necks.

  “Cindy an’ I live together,” Pinky explained. “Got a nice place over on a Hundred and Tenth Street.”

  “Say, things really changed around here. You’re the last person I’d expect to see gettin’ hooked up.”

  “And why’s that?” Cindy demanded.

  She was still as pretty as ever, if a little hard around the edges.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. Pinky just never seemed….” His words hung there. How could he say that Pinky had never seemed the kind of guy to hook up with one skirt? Pinky, the last of the great flashers. He changed the subject. “Hey, ain’tcha at school any more?”