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14
New York City, 2000
Catherinelle and Hugo only moved in together after the wedding, but he’d gotten the four-bedroom apartment in Brooklyn Heights for them about eighteen months ago. Cat had been decorating the place ever since, bringing in designer after designer to turn that into their new home, and she had the time to do it right since her mother would never allow them to live under the same roof without being married in church. I would bet that was one of the reasons that pushed Hugo to propose in the first place. Not that he didn’t want to marry her, but she was so young.
Actually, I was the one who got them their new house. I’d won the building at a craps table in Atlantic City while Gino and I had a sit-down with some Russian bosses who were looking to solidify their relations with the Nucci family. Since it was mutually beneficial, some agreements were made, but this guy, Russlan, he’d had very shitty luck. In the end I decided to let him have his money and the apartment in Moscow that he also lost, but since the building in New York was on our territory, on Willow Street, and to my liking, I kept it. I wasn’t that good of a man. It was a Big Apple classic with three stories, a view over the Brooklyn Bridge, a red brick exterior, and large windows. On the top two floors, Cath built their home, picked wallpaper, had couches brought from a manufacturer in France because only they had the color of velvet she wanted – she even sent people in Italy to buy her some plates and mugs that apparently were some big, fancy, deal. She made the top two floors their home while Hugo kept the two apartments downstairs for a business office and a gym. Ever since they’d gotten married and the summer nights became hotter, we’d moved family reunions from Gino’s house to Hugo’s. Catherinelle loved her rooftop garden and apparently, she loved to play host, especially when Hugo was God-knows-where, beating the shit out of someone. She hated being alone, so Muse and the baby, or Lola, or Bianca, Cat’s cousin, were always around for emergency brunch. Now she’d have school to keep her busy and I was ecstatic to see how she’d do because Catherinelle was many things: she was young, spoiled, beautiful, funny, warm, sometimes mean, but most of all she was smart as a damn whip. I was glad she decided to follow this path.
Since my penthouse was right across the bridge, I decided to take Romina for a walk and show her a little of the city. I was sure she would come to love it. While we were halfway across the bridge it dawned on me that I’d lived here all my life and never walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. I crossed it almost every day with my car, but never did what a million tourists came here every year to do.
“This is big!” She stopped to look around, but didn’t let go of my hand. “What’s this water under us called?”
“This is the East River and,” I explained, pointing to the bay, “it goes into the Ocean. The same Ocean your mama is flying over right now.”
I checked my watch and saw that Salva’s plane should be leaving Genova any minute now.
“It’s the same river I can see from your apartment?”
“Yes. See that tall building right there?” I pointed to the fifteen-floor building that hosted my penthouse apartment. “That's where we live.”
“And we’re going to see your friends?”
“Yes.”
“Why couldn’t Max come?”
“Because every time Max comes home from a trip he needs to go to the doctor and get checked out.”
“Did Paul take him?”
“Yes.” The vet was more than happy to see Maximus without an appointment.
“I like Paul, he is nice. He gave me chocolate when you weren’t looking.”
“I’m glad you like him, baby girl. Listen, I might ask Paul to watch you sometimes, if your mom and I have somewhere to be. You can ask him for everything you need or want.”
“What if I want more chocolate?”
“If it’s not too much, he will give it to you.”
“What if I want to go to the park? I’ve never been to a park.” Portofino was a tourist city for people with fat wallets. The fact that there weren’t a lot of parks for kids to play didn’t surprise me at all. In fact, except for Romina and Francesca Carrara’s son, I hadn’t spotted any kids at all. Now she’d be around more kids; I’d enroll her in the private school Catherinelle went to, and she’d make tons of friends. I was dedicated to making her life better and if she missed Portofino, no problem. We could go there any time she wanted.
“Then he will take you to a park.”
“Oh, I want that. What if I ask Paul for a pony?” Oh, here we go. “No ponies in the house, that’s a rule, but he could take you to the Central Park Zoo and you can play with a pony there. Deal?”
“I love New York.”
I laughed and picked her up right when we were walking on Cat’s street.
“I’m glad to hear. This is where your mother grew up.” Salva’s story was not a New York fairytale by far, but it was still part of her. We had a chance to re-write that story. “We’re here.”
I walked inside without knocking and took the elevator to the roof where I knew I could find everyone, and I was right. Gino, Hugo, and Vincenzo were grilling some meat; Lola, Vincenzo’s wife, was with Ignazio, a close family associate, and both were cooing over Enzo while Muse and Bianca were helping Cat to arrange the table. My family. They were all here. Salvatrice was the only missing piece.
“You have a lot of friends,” she whispered in my ear before hugging my neck and hiding her face away.
“Don’t be shy, baby girl.” I kissed her forehead. “They will love you.”
After I swallowed my own nerves, I stepped right into the middle of the action. Cat was the first one who saw me.
