"Tonight I win!" he declared, his voice hoarse with enthusiasm, the convergence of the Bostonian and Sicilian accents giving it an earthy texture of conviction.
You are a winner, Joe." It was Carmen. She touched her lips to the corner of his mouth and he felt her tongue linger and probe for a moment.
The girls love this, he thought. Carmen and Ginger were the beauties, the best pieces in the house, and he took them out like this because he knew they would go back and tell the other girls and they would all aspire to be his favorite. They would watch their figures and they would try to impress him with their popularity among the customers. They would work on the skills of seductionÐthe fluttering eyes, the bashful smiles, the surrendering and slow parting of the lips that whispered an invitation to delights no one can describe. He smiled at the clarity of his vision, the purity and potential of his stable of women. Has there ever been a better time than right now? It was 1959 and the country was blossoming. People had money, and the scent of contentment and opportunity hung in the air like the sweetness of lilacs in the evening air. There were fortunes to be made, and Joe Conforte wanted his.