The Sopranos: Caliper Story

EPISODE SEVEN (Part One)

EPISODE SEVEN (Part One)

Turns out, it was a tie between Mattan Farley and Ryan. The prize money was split in half and both got their reward.

      When things calmed down, we all ended up sitting in the middle of the road beside our cars. Courtney was in Ryan’s arms and Jess was sitting in the corner, conversing with Mattan Farley.

      Mattan Farley was attractive. Everyone in Damien’s crew were guys and they were all hella attractive.

     I sat on my Agera and watched Ross converse with the guys while a guy approached me. It was Damien, throwing his trench coat over my shoulders. “You’re cold.” He says, and it was obvious as I had my arms wrapped around myself.

      “Had a nice night?” I asked, 

      “Yeah, I did.” Damien had a deep but smooth voice that would make your insides churn. He sits beside me and pats the Agera. “Nice car. Expensive.” He says,

      I was too shaken up to schmooze.

      “Look, how about you and your crew drop by my house.” He offers.

      “Hold on, your . . . house?” I ask, “No offense, but it’s going to get crowded in there.”

      “Well, how about you take a look before you say no. Okay?” He says, then flashes a smirk at me that I found insanely hot. I had to take my eyes away from it.

      “Fine.” I said, looking at my shoes. “Guys, pack it up!” I said, my crew nods and we all rode as a group.

~~~

Damien’s beach house was huge. I took in a breath as we entered the foyer through the glass elevator. You could see the moon through the glass walls.

     We stepped into the opulent foyer where everything was made of glass. Strong glass I hoped as I stepped on the glass floor, seeing the hill under the house.

      There were large connecting white cubic sofas situated in the center of the room, inviting people that sit on it to converse. Surely that was the reason why it enclosed you.

      We gape at the faraway terrace across from us where we saw the fantastic view of the beach. Part of me wanted to relax, but the other part of me wanted to run down there and laugh uncontrollably and just slide into the cold night sand.

      The overhead lights were placed sparsely on the smooth black carpet-ish ceiling, and cast a low purplish light. No one even dared speaking as we cautiously stepped further into the foyer as if we could break the glass we stepped on.

      “Go on, don’t be shy.” Damien says, motioning to the connecting sofas.

      “Damien, this is-“ I begin, but realize that I had no words to end my statement.

      “Anyone want drinks?” He asked, and almost in perfect unison, my crew raises their hands as if there was a robbery.

      Damien smiles, amused. “Alright then.” He says and exits the foyer to disappear into the adjacent room to our left. Actually, he didn’t disappear, we could practically see him through the glass walls.

     Courtney enters the connected sofas and plops herself down onto it. She sighs and inhales. “So soft.” She muttered. Ryan joins Damien in the kitchen to get him and Court a drink.

      When Ryan comes back with a drink, I go into the large kitchen. Nothing in this house was cheap. Either things were made of glass or perfect stainless steel. I catch Damien (who now had his trench coat off, revealing his buff arms and built body in his tight black shirt) dropping a cherry into a full glass.

      “Hey,” He smiles, handing me the drink. “My own special creation.”

      “What is it?” I ask, dipping the cherry repeatedly into the drink.

      “Please excuse the sparkling water.” He says, sheepishly. “I haven’t had a chance to refill my alcohol stash.”

      We laugh. “It’s alright.” I said, “So, your place. It’s . . . it’s . . .  extreme.”

      He laughs, “Yeah, well, my mother really liked the idea of glass houses.” He said, “When she passed, I inherited the place and well-“

      I was reeling. Not literally, but my mind was. Damien was rich before this? That explained his territory coverage. If it weren’t for the Sopranos, he’d have Caliper all to himself.

     Noticing how blank I’d become, he asks, “Wanna go upstairs?” He asks,

     I was taken aback. “Um, upstairs?” 

     “Yeah, I have a pool table.” He says, his voice smooth and alluring.

      My face reddened. And here I was thinking he was going to hook up with me. I would’ve said no of course.

      We climb up some glass stairs and we see a room decked for entertainment, but still didn’t lose its elegance.

      Of course the pool table was made of beautiful black steel and the cues were made of the same thing. I take a sip of my sparkling water and took in the sights. There was still that awesome view and the second floor made you feel as if you were flying.

      Damien grabbed a cue and handed it to me. “I don’t really know how to play this.” He says,

      I shrug. “Neither do I, but I’ll try.”

      “Must be rough, huh?” He asks, taking the triangle frame off the billiard balls. “People posing as you. Causing mayhem.”

      “Oh, so you believe us now.” I said, “Thought you had doubts.” I said sarcastically, not keeping eye contact with him.

     “Well, now that I’ve met you in person, it’s kind of surreal.” He says, striking a ball clumsily into a corner. 

     I take another sip of my drink and place it momentarily on one of the seats behind me that had arm rests. “Well, it’s not.” I said,

     “Are you alright?” He asks.

     “Honestly, no.” I said, “Let’s talk about something else.”

     He shrugs, “Um, okay.”