Read Online By Any Other Name by J. M. Darhower - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: J. M. Darhower
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money, and New Yorkers didn't like to bet against the home team without some incentive.
And for gambling addicts, scrounging up a few bucks to play the game, sometimes an extra dime was enough to push them over to the other side of the fence.
Sports betting—it was a tedious business, but taking all of those statistics classes had certainly paid off. It had taken him a while to get used to the system, learning firsthand from the best bookie in the city: Gavin Amaro.
A steady flow of betters stopped by their table; some trusted to wager large sums with their word alone, while others were forced to pay in advance. Matty plugged in the numbers, making sure the bets didn't get too uneven, so he'd come out on top no matter who won the games, while he jotted down names in the notepad. The Blackberry started ringing after awhile, trusted guys with a direct line to him, so they wouldn't have to personally come down to The Place.
Two hours a night, a few days a week, depending on how he felt. Some weeks he only showed up twice, other weeks he immersed himself there every single night. They were at his mercy, much to their chagrin. He didn't do it for the money.
He did just enough to keep the peace with his family.
At exactly midnight, Matty turned the phone off and slipped it away, tearing the notes out of the notepad and sliding them over to his brother so Enzo would know who to hunt down if they didn't willingly pay up. He didn't care who was still there, who hadn't gotten a chance to get their bet in.
He was off the clock.
"So this girl of yours," Enzo said, nursing a beer across from Matty. He'd been staring at him the entire time, hardly able to restrain himself from interrogating him.
Nosey bastard .
"What about her?" Matty asked, motioning for the waitress to bring him another drink.
"How'd you meet her?"
"She was stuck in the elevator with me this morning."
"No shit?" Enzo looked notably impressed. "So the two of you took advantage of the privacy?"
"Hardly," Matty said, tipping the waitress when she delivered his drink. "I brought her back here for a drink afterward."
"And then you took advantage of the situation?"
"More like she took advantage of me," he muttered, sipping from his glass. "She hustled my ass in a game of pool. I nearly lost my car to her."
Enzo's eyes widened. " You ? But betting is your thing, man. I don't think I've ever seen you lose a bet."
"It didn't happened today, but only because she let me win. And thank God for that. I don't know what the hell I would've done otherwise. I put my car, my watch, and money on the game."
"Why the hell would you do that?"
"It's what she wanted."
"What did she put up?"
"Whatever I wanted."
Enzo stared at him, blinking rapidly. "And that was, what… pussy? Because you know, bro, that kind of makes her like a—"
"Shut the fuck up," Matty warned him again. As much as he loved his brother, he wasn't above beating his ass if he called her that one more time. "It's more than that. After the way she played me? I wanted her more than anything."
"She must be some girl."
He sighed, taking a gulp of his drink. "She is."
Little Italy, a neighborhood in lower Manhattan, was a melting pot of their kind. Unlike the rest of the city, Little Italy wasn't clearly defined by boundary lines, segregating the different families. Here they ran the same streets, frequented the same businesses, and rubbed shoulders with one another in a sort of restrained civility.
Ground zero , her brother called it. The point where all the explosions originate . So much brewing hostility, so much distrust, only escalated by the constant run-ins on ground they each considered part of their territory, tensions running high day in and day out. It only spanned about four blocks, but they were the last unclaimed blocks in an overrun city, the last piece of the pie up for grabs.
Primo hated Genna going to Manhattan as it was, forbidding her from venturing into Little
And for gambling addicts, scrounging up a few bucks to play the game, sometimes an extra dime was enough to push them over to the other side of the fence.
Sports betting—it was a tedious business, but taking all of those statistics classes had certainly paid off. It had taken him a while to get used to the system, learning firsthand from the best bookie in the city: Gavin Amaro.
A steady flow of betters stopped by their table; some trusted to wager large sums with their word alone, while others were forced to pay in advance. Matty plugged in the numbers, making sure the bets didn't get too uneven, so he'd come out on top no matter who won the games, while he jotted down names in the notepad. The Blackberry started ringing after awhile, trusted guys with a direct line to him, so they wouldn't have to personally come down to The Place.
Two hours a night, a few days a week, depending on how he felt. Some weeks he only showed up twice, other weeks he immersed himself there every single night. They were at his mercy, much to their chagrin. He didn't do it for the money.
He did just enough to keep the peace with his family.
At exactly midnight, Matty turned the phone off and slipped it away, tearing the notes out of the notepad and sliding them over to his brother so Enzo would know who to hunt down if they didn't willingly pay up. He didn't care who was still there, who hadn't gotten a chance to get their bet in.
He was off the clock.
"So this girl of yours," Enzo said, nursing a beer across from Matty. He'd been staring at him the entire time, hardly able to restrain himself from interrogating him.
Nosey bastard .
"What about her?" Matty asked, motioning for the waitress to bring him another drink.
"How'd you meet her?"
"She was stuck in the elevator with me this morning."
"No shit?" Enzo looked notably impressed. "So the two of you took advantage of the privacy?"
"Hardly," Matty said, tipping the waitress when she delivered his drink. "I brought her back here for a drink afterward."
"And then you took advantage of the situation?"
"More like she took advantage of me," he muttered, sipping from his glass. "She hustled my ass in a game of pool. I nearly lost my car to her."
Enzo's eyes widened. " You ? But betting is your thing, man. I don't think I've ever seen you lose a bet."
"It didn't happened today, but only because she let me win. And thank God for that. I don't know what the hell I would've done otherwise. I put my car, my watch, and money on the game."
"Why the hell would you do that?"
"It's what she wanted."
"What did she put up?"
"Whatever I wanted."
Enzo stared at him, blinking rapidly. "And that was, what… pussy? Because you know, bro, that kind of makes her like a—"
"Shut the fuck up," Matty warned him again. As much as he loved his brother, he wasn't above beating his ass if he called her that one more time. "It's more than that. After the way she played me? I wanted her more than anything."
"She must be some girl."
He sighed, taking a gulp of his drink. "She is."
Little Italy, a neighborhood in lower Manhattan, was a melting pot of their kind. Unlike the rest of the city, Little Italy wasn't clearly defined by boundary lines, segregating the different families. Here they ran the same streets, frequented the same businesses, and rubbed shoulders with one another in a sort of restrained civility.
Ground zero , her brother called it. The point where all the explosions originate . So much brewing hostility, so much distrust, only escalated by the constant run-ins on ground they each considered part of their territory, tensions running high day in and day out. It only spanned about four blocks, but they were the last unclaimed blocks in an overrun city, the last piece of the pie up for grabs.
Primo hated Genna going to Manhattan as it was, forbidding her from venturing into Little
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