Free Belonging by Alexa Land Page A

upholstered furniture and in the
artwork. That tasteful foundation all went a bit askew, because the
room was cluttered with family photos, random antiques and
knickknacks that appealed to my grandmother.
    “I um...I heard your family is in the
mafia and that’s how you made all this money.” He seemed
embarrassed to bring it up. “That’s not really true, is
it?”
    “It was true, for many generations. My
father started to move the family away from the illegal end of
things and my oldest brother Dante continued us on that path before
stepping back and letting our cousin Jerry run things. All three of
them have made a lot of smart investments and found ways to
generate legitimate income for the family, so overall, we’re not
really in that line of work anymore.”
    “Overall?”
    I took a sip of my drink and settled
back against the couch. “With a history as long as ours, you can’t
really throw your hands up one day, say ‘I’m done’ and then just
walk away. The Dombrusos made plenty of enemies over the years.
Because of that, there’s still a need to remain strong, if you know
what I mean.” He made an effort to take that in stride, even though
I knew how crazy it sounded.
    After we chatted for a few minutes, he
glanced at me and said, “This is going to sound stupid, but would
you let me photograph you? I’m taking a photography class at City
College and I’m supposed to find a model and do a detailed study.
If you don’t mind me saying so, you’re incredibly good-looking and
I think it would be fun to do you.” When I chuckled at that, his
blue eyes went wide and he exclaimed, “Oh shit! I just meant it’d
be fun to make you the subject of the study.”
    “I know,” I said with a
smile.
    “It was dumb of me to ask, though. I’m
sure you have better things to do besides helping me with some
community college assignment.”
    “I’d be happy to pose for you, and I’m
flattered that you asked.”
    “Oh wow, really?”
    “Sure. I have to ask, though. Why are
you taking a class at City College when you’re already a
professional photographer?”
    “Oh, I’m not a professional. Far from
it,” Chance said. “I just lucked into doing that wedding
photography for Nana and some engagement portraits for Christian’s
friend Skye. That’s the only time anyone’s ever paid me to take
pictures. That’s my dream job though, so I decided to take some
classes and try to put a portfolio together so I can work toward
that goal.”
    “Well, you could have fooled me. I saw
the wedding pictures you took and they were incredible. I doubt
that class is going to teach you much since you’re already so
talented.”
    “Thank you for saying that.” He looked
a bit embarrassed by my praise.
    “So, what do you do for a living?” I
asked.
    “I...um,” he hesitated, but then he
looked me in the eye and said, “I’m a prostitute.” He squared up
his shoulders a little, as if planning to go on the
defensive.
    Even though that wasn’t the answer I
was expecting, it didn’t really phase me. I smiled at him and said,
“You can relax. I’m not about to judge you for it.”
    “Is that because you’re a prostitute,
too?”
    I grinned at that. “No. Why, did
someone tell you I was?”
    “Shit. Sorry. Nana did say something,
but it’s none of my business.”
    “She tells people I’m a gigolo
sometimes,” I said. “It’s not true, but I guess in Nana’s mind,
that’s the only way she can make sense of me.”
    “That’s exactly what she said. So
you’re not a male escort?”
    “No, not at all. I have a habit of
dating older men and women, and some of them have happened to be
well-off. Since my preferences are totally incomprehensible to my
grandmother, she latched on to that idea as a way of explaining my
past relationships.”
    Chance looked surprised. “And you just
let her keep thinking her grandson is an escort?”
    I shrugged and said, “I don’t consider
it an insult, and she doesn’t