And Nova’s own sins, but he was going to have to deal with that later.
All the shit he ignored because he was too fucking busy working or too distracted by ecstasy and sex to give a shit. He’d been selfish. Incredibly so. He didn’t want to babysit Tino, or micromanage his life like Romeo would have, because replacing Romeo meant acknowledging Nova was the reason his older brother was in jail. That was Nova’s fucking burden to bear, but right now it was making him feel better to take it out on everyone else.
He was halfway through that client list when the meeting was called.
Nova took a long drink of the coffee next to him, making Carlo wince.
“You just brushed your teeth.” Carlo reached out and tapped the corner of Nova’s eye with something cold and wet. Nova jerked back, and Carlo said, “Don’t move.”
“What is it?” Nova brushed under his eye and stared at the white, sticky smear on his fingers. He rubbed them together, because it didn’t feel like lotion. “What the fuck is this, stronzo?”
Carlo showed him the tube, and Nova jumped back with the agility born from a lifetime of martial arts and growing up with two brothers who sometimes enjoyed fucking with him when they thought he was getting too uptight.
“You’re trying to put ass cream on my face?” Nova asked incredulously. “Fuck off!”
“It’s a trick.” Carlo grabbed his chin, because that motherfucker was very fast, but Nova deflected him and shoved him back. “Listen!” Carlo shouted when Nova ducked another grab for his face. “You look like death. My ma was a model. This’ll help. I’m not fucking with you ten minutes before the commission meeting. This is a real thing. Trust me.”
“You carry that on you.” Nova tilted his head and gave Carlo a concerned look. “Motherfucker—”
“No, I had Gino pick some up on the way back from Frankie’s.” Carlo leaned in and touched the corner of Nova’s eye again. “Look up.”
“Minchia,” Nova cursed under his breath. “Does it have a smell? Am I gonna walk into this fucking meeting smelling like ass?”
“Nah, you’re good. I use it all the time. Do I smell like ass?”
Nova took a deep breath, trying to see if he could smell it, but he knew his sense of smell wasn’t that strong. He could smell some things if they had a distinctive scent, like weed or women’s perfume, but not the same way others did.
“I can’t tell. I’ll have to trust you.” Nova kept looking up as Carlo worked on his other eye. “Was your ma really a model?”
“Yeah. Her picture was in Times Square. You think the old man gets cheap ass? My ma was hot. She was living here on a work visa when she met him, and he decided to give her an excuse to stay.” Carlo tossed the cream on the counter. He reached over and grabbed a bag of peas from the bodega bag. “Hold these on your eyes for a couple of minutes.”
“This is the weirdest shit I’ve ever done in my life.” Nova held the peas on his eyes anyway, if for no other reason than the cold did a better job than coffee at waking him up. “So your ma got knocked up by the don on purpose?”
“Yup. Otherwise they would’ve shipped her back to Italia.”
Nova snorted. “At least me and Tino were a fucking accident.”
“Yeah, but there’s two of you,” Carlo reminded him. “My ma got wise and stopped after one.”
“True. If your ma had her picture in Times Square, why’d you grow up on the bad side of Washington Heights? Money-management issues?”
“Life-management issues.” Carlo ran his hands through Nova’s hair, leaving something sticky on his forehead, making Nova realize he was putting gel in it. “The old man, though. He wasn’t like Frankie. He tried to help her, but you know, smack can be a real sexy boyfriend after a while.”
“I’m sorry,” Nova whispered, knowing he’d stepped into a sore subject.
“It’s okay. We all got a sad story.” Carlo sighed. “Some more than others. Mine’s not that fucking bad.”
“Yeah, I guess mine’s not either.” Nova tossed the peas on the counter and looked to Carlo. “Are you gonna be cool in there?”
“I don’t know.” Carlo sounded haunted. “I have to look at those motherfuckers and know what they’ve done to her all this time. I just—” He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“We’re gonna fuck the Brambinos,” Nova promised him. “One way or the other.”
“We are.” Carlo nodded in agreement. “One way or the other.”
Nova turned to the mirror and studied his reflection. He didn’t see a difference in his eyes, but he wasn’t paying too much attention. Instead he ran a hand down his chest and huffed. “Fucking gold tie.”
Carlo snorted. “You look Siciliano.”
“I look Siciliano, all right.” Nova tilted his head and eyed himself wearing the tie the don bought him for Christmas last year. “Like a Jersey guido shopping for sticchiu.”