Page 45 of Marcello

You’re making me look bad

After I HELPED you

You fucking ingrate!!!!!!

You piece of shit asshole

Motherfucker

I sighed and put the phone on airplane mode.

Tick-tock, Marcello.

Tick-tock.

As I was putting on my new orange vest, Pasquale came over with an ashen look on his face. “DUDE, Fede’s blowing my phone up. She says you quit the pizzeria without even telling them.”

“It’ll be fine,” I reassured him.

“It’s not fine if she keeps harassing me!”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I’ll handle her later.”

Pasquale gave me a dubious look, then said, “Whatever. You’ll be shadowing me today. Pay attention to everything I do. I’ll show you the emergency exits so you can help anybody who wants to leave the tour early.”

“Okay.” As he started to walk away, I said, “Hey, man – thank you. I really appreciate you going out on a limb for me, and I’m sorry I dragged you into my drama with Federica. I’ll clear it up with her tonight and make sure she doesn’t bother you anymore.”

“…okay,” he muttered.

After that, I started my first day of work.

Working at Sotto Napoli was awesome. It was a hell of a lot more pleasant than washing dirty dishes all day long.

When I clocked out that afternoon, I went to the walkway of arches and graffitied columns, my heart thudding in my chest.

But the Camorra drug dealer wasn’t there.

I waited a half hour.

He never showed up.

Shit.

Oh well…

Maybe tomorrow.

Then I turned on my phone.

Eighteen missed calls, five voicemails, and 97 texts came pouring in…

All from Federica.

I rubbed the cornicello keychain in my pocket for good luck.

I hope you can protect me from the chick who gave you to me, I thought as I headed home.

The fight with Federica that night was a marathon from hell.