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Returning the chain around my neck and tucking it back into my tank top, I decide to get a cup of coffee I might actually have the chance to enjoy. That should give me the extra energy I need to run a few errands and let these thoughts of hot tattooed men go. For all I know, he’s married to Mimmo’s mother or living with her. Besides, it’s not like you’re interested in starting anything with him or anyone else.
Or at least, you shouldn’t be.
I need to focus on seeing if Georgia can help me track down his phone number on Friday and put this whole situation behind me. Until then, I’ll keep wearing the necklace, so I don’t risk losing it.
I reach up, rubbing the gold pendant through my top. Maybe St. Michael can protect me from myself until he makes it back to Luke.
Luca
“Hello?”
“Luca. It’s Giovanni. Luigi told me you’d been in the hospital. Are you okay?”
“Cugino, I’m good. I’m back at work. Almost didn’t pick up when I didn’t recognize the number.”
“Sorry. I’m at the club. Wanted to call you before the day got away from me. Is there anything you need?”
“No, I’m good.” The phone line goes quiet, and I wonder if my cousin has been interrupted momentarily.
“You sound like you’renotso good. What’s really going on?”
“I can’t hide anything from you. But then again, I never could.” My cousin Giovanni is one of the sharpest men I know. Plus, he’s loyal to a fault. His father, Romeo, is my father’s younger brother and the Underboss of the Messina crime family. The difference being, his father is a good man. I’m not sure if he works under my father out of the same loyalty I see in Giovanni or if he’s hoping he can prevent my drunk ass dad from doing something more sinister than he already has. “There’s a lot on my plate, so to speak.”
“What can you give me? To make it easier? Should you come by the playground and have a drink and we talk?” Giovanni, or Gianni Black as he calls himself here in the states, runs a very profitable private sex club called The Devil’s Playground just outside of Washington D.C. A night away surrounded by beautiful women, a cigar, and a glass of scotch is tempting. But my hospitalization has already put my work behind.
“I’ll manage. Luigi offered to help out with Antonia and Mimmo. I worry about bringing Vincenzo Messina’s wrath on Luigi and Maria, but I think it could be good for Antonia. Maybe Maria could encourage her to be more active and return to therapy.”
“You’re right. Maria is a good woman. I’ll get extra security there, Luca. What else?”
“It’s a good problem to have, but my business has gotten much busier than I ever anticipated. I need to hire a protégé or two.” I wasn’t sure how successful my metal works businesswould be once I moved to America. Hanover, Virginia, is known for their tomatoes, not innovative metal art sculptures.
I’ve had to put my more creative endeavors on hold temporarily, as they don’t pay the bills. The bulk of our revenue comes from supplying upscale restaurants and high-end hotels with furnishings. Custom Metal Works mass produces bar stools, chairs, mirrors, clocks, lighting, and artwork. Not the detailed museum worthy pieces I love getting lost in, moreover small statues you’d see in an art niche or metallic murals to occupy an otherwise empty space.
“It’s a shame Nico couldn’t be here. You two would be quite the force together.”
My brother, Nico, is arguably the more talented of the two of us. From an early age, it was understood that Matteo, the oldest, would train under my father to work in the family business. And while it was expected eventually Nico and I would as well, we were paired with proficient, well-respected craftsmen who were gifted in the art of metal and glass artistry. I worked alongside a renowned metalsmith and Nico an accomplished glass blower.
It never made sense how this would fit in to my father’s world, and I often assumed it was my mother’s wish we develop a skill beyond the Messina family business. But after watching my father destroy my mother little by little until she was gone, I’m convinced her opinion meant nothing to him. It’s more likely we were going to be a believable front for money laundering or the like.
“Well, life is about choices. And he made his.” My jaw grows tight at the memory of Nico’s betrayal. We’d been so close growing up. The idea he’d prefer to stay and work with my father than to come with all of us to the states was eye opening. Apparently, the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. My brother was more loyal to the idea of power and wealth than we knew.“Let’s not bring him into this. Besides, being in the hospital has gotten me even further behind. I need to get to it.”
“Take it easy, Luca. It’s barely been a day since you went under the knife. You probably shouldn’t be doing any lifting for a while.”
“I’m not lifting anything heavy.”
“Are you back to eating normally?”
As if on cue, my stomach rumbles. “I’ve been trying to go slow. I might have dinner with Luigi tomorrow.”
Muttered voices filter into the receiver, pulling Giovanni away from our conversation momentarily. “Ah, that’s it. Soup today, feast tomorrow.” He chuckles. “One of these days, I’ll make it there for dinner. It’d be good to see you, Matteo, Antonia, and Mimmo. And Luigi.” He laughs. The presence of additional sounds in the background returns. “I have to go, Luca. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”
“I’m fine, G. Grazie.” Hanging up the call, I decide to stop and get a small bite to eat before tackling a few more things on my to-do list. Then I might knock off early so I can have a difficult conversation with Antonia.
Antonia isn’t a fan of change. Hell, she’s supposed to use her new name, Luna, now that we’re in the states, but half the time she doesn’t bother trying. The rest of us say it more than she does. If nothing else, we use it to try to prevent Mimmo from accidentally repeating his mother’s real name.
“It’s time, Sorellina.” Pulling her from her favorite chair, I kneel down before her. “We skipped last month, but this is important.”
“Luca,” she bellows.
