Don Bowed To Me Chapter 06
The next day.
Newport’s most famous wedding venue. The Chanler at Cliff Walk.
Black Escalades lined the drive.
Men in dark suits with earpieces stood at every entrance, checking names against a list.
Every Family on the Eastern Seaboard had someone in that ballroom. Boston. New York. Philadelphia. New Haven. Providence.
Halfway through the toasts, Isabella stood up from the head table, walked onto the platform, and picked up the microphone.
“Everyone, thank you for coming out to celebrate Matteo and me today. While I have the mic, I wanted to do a little something for my sister Hazel…”
Isabella’s smile was flawless.
I stiffened.
Every head in the room turned toward me.
Isabella’s smile was so earnest.
“Hazel Vitale. Twenty-eight. High school diploma. She’s not made. She doesn’t work for any Family. Right now she’s pouring espresso in a little shop up in Queens. Eighteen an hour, plus tips.”
A ripple of quiet, incredulous laughter moved through the ballroom.
“But she’s a wonderful person. So grounded, so genuine. If any of the single gentlemen tonight are open-minded enough to overlook all that, please come say hi.”
She gave a small bow, humble, almost apologetic.
“Please don’t hold her situation against her. For my sake, as the bride, give her a chance to join a Family.”
A heavyset man in a shiny suit stood up on the right side of the ballroom.
“Frankie DeLuca. I run the vending route out of Cranston. Divorced, three kids. What do you say, sweetheart?”
A shorter man stood up in the corner, no taller than five-five, associate ring on his pinky.
He raised his glass.
“Bobby, out of the Ricci crew. I do the books for a strip mall in Warwick. Never married. Still living with my mother, but that’s temporary.”
My brows pulled together.
“I’m not doing this.”
My mother’s face turned an ugly shade of red.
“These men are respectable. They’re willing to overlook the fact that you’ve done nothing for the Vitale name in ten years, and you’re being picky?”
She lowered her voice.
“Give someone your number. Do not humiliate Isabella in front of Don Salvatore’s people.”
I looked up at the stage.
Isabella was biting her lower lip, her eyes glossy, doing the wounded doe.
“Hazel, is it that you don’t like any of the ones I picked out? But given your situation, I don’t know what else I can do for you besides trying at my own wedding.”
Matteo slid his arm around her shoulders and frowned at me.
“Hazel, Isabella was up half the night worrying about you. She’s trying to give you a way back into a respectable life. If they aren’t your type, just take a number. Why are you doing this in front of every Family on the coast?”
Whispers rippled across the ballroom.
“The bride went to Yale. Associate at McKinsey. And her sister is…”
“Barista in Queens. No wonder the Vitales don’t talk about her.”
“A Vitale girl serving strangers coffee? For tips? I’d have sent her away too.”
My mother’s finger jabbed at my face, trembling.
“Today is Isabella’s wedding! You just have to ruin it for everyone, don’t you? Get out!”