At the End of a Dull Day by Massimo Carlotto, Anthony Shugaar Page A

Back then, I’d sworn to myself that I’d never do it again, because I believed that I’d never need to eliminate stumbling blocks along my straight and narrow path to a normal life. Turns out, I was wrong, but that wasn’t my fault.
    When Martina reached her orgasm I reflected on the fact that it hadn’t been unpleasant at all.
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    The Nicoletta Rizzardi who walked into La Nena the following day was a very different woman from the one I first met. Her brash, tough attitude, the assumption that she could keep any man in line, had been replaced by the certain knowledge that she was in a situation with no way out and her future dangled by the very thin thread of my benevolence. For the first time, she had no silk scarf around her neck.
    I told the waitress to set a table for two in the back room. The second seating for lunch was drawing to a close, and once I was done ringing up the checks I joined her. I was gleefully cruel.
    â€œI expect love from you, Nicoletta. Lots of love.” I started the conversation in a syrupy voice.
    Her eyes widened. “Love?”
    â€œHave I or have I not become the single most important man in your life?”
    â€œI’m afraid you have.”
    â€œThen you’re going to have to love me, or at least you’re going to have to do such a good job of pretending to love me that I can’t tell the difference.”
    â€œStop it, Giorgio, please.”
    I changed my tone of voice. “Do you think I’m joking?”
    She stared at me. “Not for a second.”
    A waitress walked in with our bowls of pasta. I was hungry and I greedily dug in to the
tagliatelle con ragù di sorana dei colli Berici
. But my partner didn’t seem to have much of an appetite.
    â€œHow’d it go with the girls?” I asked, wiping the sauce off the bottom of the bowl with a hunk of bread.
    â€œFine. They bought the fairytale.”
    â€œWe’re going to have to find a replacement for Isabel.”
    Her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t take it anymore. Let’s sell the girls and shut down the business.”
    I ignored her. “Next week is Carnival, and Venice is going to be packed with horny tourists. Don’t tell me that you don’t have anything planned.”
    â€œSure, there might be a few things . . . but they’re all foursomes, I can’t imagine that I’d find a girl in time . . . ”
    â€œWell, do your best, or you’ll be standing in for her.”
    For a second she was on the verge of getting up and walking out. “I’m forty-one years old, Giorgio,” she said calmly. “Don’t you think I’m a little old for the whore’s life?”
    â€œYou’re an attractive woman,” I shot back with conviction. “And anyway, it’s your fucking problem.”
    She looked down into her bowl and said nothing more until dessert. I even caught a distinct whiff of her despair.
    â€œThere’s something else that I have to talk to you about, something that concerns you.”
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œIf I tell you though, you have to promise not to make me do things I don’t want to do,” she said in an attempt to negotiate. “It’s valuable information. Priceless.”
    â€œMake you do things? What an unfortunate way of putting it. Anyway, the answer is no.”
    She gave in and told me anyway. “Brianese is planning to rip you off. Actually, the right term for it would be annihilate you.”
    I shrugged. “Bullshit, I don’t believe that.”
    â€œHis secretary Ylenia told me.”
    â€œI didn’t know the two of you were on such close terms.”
    â€œShe called me up . . . ”
    â€œAnd . . . ” I pushed.
    â€œAnd suggested I work with her to push you out of the business with the girls. She told me that you were through anyway, that you’d become an unpredictable danger.”
    â€œBut she