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“I’ll think about it.”
“All right. Get some sleep.”
“Good night.” I hang up, set the phone down. I slide the large sheet out from under my new sketch and roll it up, put it away. I give Natalie’s sketch one long look before switching off the lights and going upstairs to try and sleep, hoping for just a few hours of oblivion.
God, what I’d give.12SergioRoman lives about an hour out of the city. We’re not supposed to meet until this afternoon, but I want the element of surprise.
“Sergio,” he checks his watch. “Did I confuse the time?”
“No, Uncle. I’m early.”
“You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”
“I don’t mind.” I look around the elaborately decorated house. It’s an older structure and dark, with wood everywhere. Not my style, but it’s what he likes. “I have some business out this way anyway.” It’s a busy fucking day for me.
We walk directly into his study. Roman takes the seat behind his desk. I remain on my feet, studying the paintings along the walls. “This new?” I ask about a watercolor I haven’t seen before.
“Yes. Bought it at auction a few weeks ago, actually.”
“It’s very nice.” And quite expensive, I’m sure.
“Thank you. How are you holding up after the hospital?”
I face him, lean my back against the wall and fold my arms across my chest. I purposely don’t take the seat before the desk. Before him.
“It’s shitty news.”
“Yes. Your father’s very upset.”
“Understandable.”
“There are some meetings coming up that I’m not sure he’ll be able to attend.”
I nod. “I’ll take his place.”
“I can sit in as necessary.”
“As his son and eventual successor, I’ll take his place.”
“As you wish.”
“How did old man Vitelli know about mom, Uncle?”
Roman has been with my father for longer than I’ve been around. He has learned well to conceal any emotion. Mastered the art. It’s not that I mistrust him, but there’s something that’s always niggled at the back of my mind with him.
“When we were talking about Joe’s situation, it came up.”
“Why were you talking to him about his son’s situation?”
“I’ve known him a long time, Sergio. He had nothing to do with what his sons were arranging.”
“It sounds like you’re friends.”
“You know as well as I there are no friends in this business.”
“Does he know you would have dealt a harsher punishment than I had it been up to you?”
At that, there’s a brief narrowing of his right eye. I only notice it because I’ve trained myself to watch people closely.
“What are you saying, Sergio?” he finally asks.
“I’m saying loyalty is of utmost importance, Uncle. Equal to family. Perhaps surpassing it.”
“Are you questioning mine?” He’s direct. We all are, I guess. “I’m your mother’s brother, remember. Your godfather. Are you questioning my loyalty to you or your family?”
“Explain to me how it came up.”
He raises his eyebrows. The chair creaks as he leans back. “I don’t think the Benedetti family needs another war. Not right now.”
I agree with him on that. The DeMarco war damaged us, at least a little. We won, but between that and my mother’s illness, Roman is right. This is not the time for war. Vitelli—hell, any ambitious family—would use my mother’s illness, see it as a weakness, an opportunity.
“I gave a little, to gain a little,” he says. “I apologize if I overstepped.”
“I don’t like being caught off guard.”
“And it wasn’t my intention that you should be.” He rises, walks around his desk and comes toward me. “Sergio, you’re my nephew. My blood. And when the time comes, I hope I’ll be of service to you as I am to your father.” He gives a brief bow of his head.
I watch him do this, know what it takes to do what he’s doing. He’s right that we’re blood. And to have to bow to a man almost thirty years his junior, whose only privilege is birth, must burn a little.
I nod, check my watch. “Anything new from the Vitelli boys?”
“No. Quiet as can be.”
“Which we both know is not really a good sign.” Silence always precedes an ambush. A deafening, deadly stillness.
“Yes, we do.” He moves back behind his desk. Sits. “I’ll keep my eyes on Vitelli.”
“Do. I want to be kept up to date on any happenings. Let’s keep my father out of this for now.”
“I agree with that.”
“Are you coming to Dominic’s birthday dinner?” I ask to change the subject.
“Of course.”
“I’ll see you then,” I say.
“You don’t want to stay? Have something to eat?”
“No, thank you. I have some personal business to take care of.”
“All right. I’ll walk you out.”
When I’m done at my uncle’s, Eric drives me to my next destination, the Dayton Architecture offices. As in Professor Harry Dayton, the prick. He touched her, expecting her to fuck him for a fucking internship. Fucking asshole. I’m about to do this town a service.
