FULL DISCLOSURE: I was a fledgling actress-dancer-model in New York City. This is one of misadventures of the Human Fairy in her early twenties in Little Italy.
”Jill,” the producer yelled over the party noise, waving her to come over to the very table to where the handsome older guy was sitting.
Jill swished through the dancers on the floor.
“Jill…I want you to meet the Godfather.”
“Hi!”
The Godfather, in his Versace suit, slowly lifted his hand. Taking hers, he raised it to his lips and kissed it. Afterwards, his manicured hands lay quietly on the white tablecloth fresh from the local Chinese laundry.
Sipping her wine, she stared into his steel-gray eyes, wondering if her carefully bleached-teeth were getting stained.
A middle-aged Italian woman with way too much rouge and scarlet red lipstick whispered in her ear, “The Godfather wants you to sit next to him.”
Jill studied his perfectly-coiffed silver, wavy hair which didn’t move.
“So, prostitution and cocaine is the name of your game?” Jill asked as she sat down, feeling a bit tipsy.
Her producer date choked on his green martini olive, fearing that her question had lost him not only an investor for his next Broadway show, but maybe his life.
He laughed nervously.
“Oh, come on, Jill. You really didn’t mean that.”
The Godfather stared at the producer and rasped in his Brooklyn accent, “Be careful, you may end up in a car trunk in Jersey.”
Jill laughed.
The Godfather laughed.
Then, everyone in the room laughed.
“You’re a funny guy,” Jill said, poking him in the shoulder of his expensive Italian suit’s shoulder.
Through the restaurant’s front window, the glistening rain turned passing cars’ headlights into flickering red and white warning signs.
The middle-aged woman leaned in again.
“The Godfather wants you to dance for him.”
An offer she couldn’t refuse.
To be continued tomorrow…