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“I have it on good authority that the Esposito’s are exactly who did this,” Massimo offered. “The person they put up to it was an employee of our company. They bribed and threatened him that if he didn’t institute the system, that put our company and all our finances at risk.”
“But our finances are not at risk,” Costanza countered. “Your father has ensured us of that, and our own risk assessment has seconded that reassurance.”
“It doesn’t surprise me that you had our assurances checked,” Giordano huffed. “I would do the same in your position.”
“And now that you know your money and investments are safe, we can collectively go after the Esposito’s,” Massimo suggested.
“Our fight is not with them,” Francesco suggested.
“Oh, but it is,” Massimo replied. “They don’t have a singular focus of just my family to exact their revenge on. Our families, both our families, jilted them. That’s how they see it. We were just the fallback to your original plan. Sure, they may have beef with us, but I assure you,” Masimo continued, growing in confidence as he spoke, “they have even more beef with your family. I think it's just a matter of time before they make a direct threat against your company.”
Francesco listened to the young man. Surprisingly, he made a lot of sense. Costanza also saw the point of the young Ricci’s position. There just might be some truth to it. Either way, she was willing to hear him out and said as much.
“Listen, we may have had a few bumps in the road, but truthfully, we are stronger together. Our combined efforts can shut them down.”
Everyone fell silent. They each considered their own family’s position and what they had to lose or gain if they entered into the fight.
“I say we go for it,” Giuseppe chimed in. “What have we got to lose?”
“A lot,” Francesco replied. “But,” he visually checked in with his mother, “we are willing to hear what you have to say.”
“Excellent,” Massimo smiled. “Let’s get started.”
Rosa did her best to keep Isotta busy, trying to take her mind off whatever Massimo was involved in. Rosa suggested they bake cookies, a sweet treat for when he returned. Isotta agreed, but it was only half-heartedly. She offered a smile, but Rosa could see lines of worry etched on her forehead. Rosa was determined to take her mind off what troubled her, keeping up a lively conversation and even playing music that they both enjoyed. But that still didn’t seem to be enough to pull Isotta from her concern.
“I just hope things are going okay,” Isotta muttered. “I can’t say it is going well because that may be too much to ask.”
“I’m sure it is,” Rosa offered, even offering a smile, but still, it didn’t seem to impact Isotta’s countenance.
“Let’s dance,” Rosa suggested.
“What?” Isotta guffawed.
Rosa walked over to the oven. Isotta stood in front of it and removed the gloves she wore.
“I said, let’s dance.”
Rosa didn’t only suggest it. She led Isotta by the hand to the middle of the kitchen and started to shake her hips. Isotta got tickled but still tried to pull her hand away to attend to the cookies. But Rosa was not dissuaded, not in the least. She pulled Isotta toward her. Even though Isotta stumbled, she found herself laughing. She laughed even harder when Rosa wrapped her arm around Isotta’s waist and forced her to sway to the beat with her.
“You’re kidding me, right?” Isotta laughed even harder than she had before.
“Nope,” Rosa laughed. “Not at all! Shake it, sister,” Rosa laughed.
Isotta was giggling so hard that she gave in. She fell in step with Rosa, and they both danced. When Rosa twirled her around, Isotta put on her fancy girl façade and overacted, prancing on her tiptoes and dancing like nobody was watching.
For just a moment, she lost focus on her worry and enjoyed herself. The two danced until they were so consumed with laughter that their feet stopped moving. In the middle of their giggles, the oven sounded.
“The cookies,” Isotta gasped. She quickly moved to the stove and replaced the padded gloves she’d previously worn. Rosa meandered up to her side. “Let me just check to make sure they’re done,” Rosa interjected, putting on a pair of gloves of her own.
She eased Isotta out of the way and opened the oven, making sure to turn off the timer before she did. Rosa pulled the tray back and then pulled off one of her gloves and finger-checked the cookie's responsiveness to her touch.
“Yes, they’re ready,” Rosa announced.
Isotta had a moment too long to think. Her thoughts returned to the meeting that her husband and her family were entangled in.
“I’m still worried, Rosa,” she admitted.
“It’s going to be okay,” Rosa said, wrapping her arm around Isotta’s shoulders. “I promise you. Everything is going to be okay.”
