Page 31 of Dante

“Uh, sure,” I say, after looking at Dante for permission to proceed. Dante nods slightly.

“To be honest, I don’t know the full story. Just that it’s ridiculously romantic. My West Coast dad traveled to NYC for some sort of tax convention. Mom fell in love at first sight. Then her family cut her off in shame, lest the New York organization cut them off too. In those days, there was a lot of rivalry between the East and West coast.”

My eyes sweep over the brothers.

“My mom’s so grateful your dad decided it was high time to unite the two branches of the organization,” I say, looking at Dante.

Dante nods. “It was his last act as reigning don,” he says, crossing himself at the mention of his father. The gesture surprises me. He doesn’t strike me as a religious man.

Luca breaks the silence with a question. “If Irvine was so boring, what did you do for fun?”

“Surfed. And hung out with my best friend, Alice. She was my next-door neighbor. I worked part-time for her parents.”

“Doing what?”

“Waiting tables,” I say after a brief hesitation. The Riccis are a wealthy family. If they look down on me for this admission, so be it.

“Alice’s family owned a restaurant. As kids we watched it being built from the ground up. Just last year it received a Michelin star.”

“I worked as a server, too,” says Lorenzo, calming any insecurity I might have had about my part-time job.

“Dante made me,” he adds, with a good-natured grin. “He said it would be a good way for me to understand people. But reading people was always my skill.”

“True enough,” says Luca, pointing his loaded fork at him.

“But Dante, you’re the one who should have been a server,” says Lorenzo. “You don’t have much insight into the human psyche at all.”

“Au contraire, middle brother,” says Dante, pointing his fork at his sibling. “My mind is more calculating than a master chess player’s.”

“That’s right,” says Luca. “He’s won every chess game I’ve ever played with him. And I’m the one with the math smarts in the family.”

I smile, watching the brothers spar. That’s what I missed growing up: siblings, friends, even cousins.

Mom carefully monitored all my interactions. Alice has been my friend since we were toddlers because she lived next door. That’s the only reason Mom allowed me to get close to Alice’s family. Everybody else had to stand a mile away.

I was taught at a very early age to keep our family business private. Alice knew my dad was a tax attorney. But neither she nor her family knew he worked for the West Coast mob.

“Shopping with Angie must have been fun,” says Luca, breaking the silence. “Spending sprees with Dante’s AmEx card were the best part of Mary’s⁠—”

When he catches the fierce expression on Dante’s face, he shuts his mouth. Then he quickly finishes his pizza slice to give his mouth a task to prevent him from talking.

“Shopping with Angie is always good fun,” says Lorenzo diplomatically, turning the conversation.

“Gina will need to shop again,” says Dante, turning his attention to me.

“Next Tuesday she’ll join me at the dinner party Silvio’s throwing at the Long Island house. She’ll need something suitable to her station.”

“Uncle Silvio has a home in Long Island?” I ask.

“It’s not his house,” says Lorenzo with an irritated tone. Dante shoots him a sharp look.

“What I mean to say is that the house belongs to the three of us. We brothers all grew up there. So did our dad.”

“So why does Silvio have the house now?”

“Our father lent it to him when we three moved out to live in New York City. We use the house for family get-togethers. So when we visit on Tuesday, know that Silvio’s just playing host.”

“Got it,” I say. But I don’t get it at all. This East Coast mafia family is hard to understand. And Angie has only revealed the tip of the iceberg.