Page 17 of Winter With You

‘I’m OK,’ Steffi announced, wriggling now to get free, her face buried in his shoulder. ‘I just wasn’t expecting an arm tap to warrant you looking like you were gonna turn full Marcello commando on me.’

He let her go and regrouped. What was she doing here? He could count on one thumb how many times she had been to La Façon and the one other time was when their father got arrested. Was there another family crisis?

‘Is Mom OK?’ His mouth leapt straight in, desperate for an answer.

‘Yeah,’ Steffi said, looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror to the side of the mannequin Luca had been dressing. ‘Well, as OK as you get when you’re a prison widow with a family who doesn’t love her. Her words obviously, not mine. You smooshed my lip liner with that hug.’

He relaxed slightly. ‘So, everything’s good. You just thought you’d drop in to my work? I mean, it’s great to see you, Steffi, but I’m kinda busy here.’ He indicated the mannequin currently wearing a russet-coloured Valdin Sahiti dress.

‘Ronnie came to see me.’

Luca held his breath. That thug had been to see his sister. Anger was already pulsing underneath his surface. ‘Did he hurt you?’

‘What?’ Steffi exclaimed, with a laugh. ‘No! He’s Babbo’s best friend. Why would he hurt me? I mean, I know he’s not friendly to everyone, but different circles, right?’

His sister was still a little naïve and sometimes Luca was grateful for it. But not on this occasion. She seemed to make allowances just because Ronnie had once balanced them both on his shoulders at the playpark when they were kids. But knowing the basic rules of babysitting didn’t automatically make the babysitter a good person.

‘Well, what did he say?’ Luca asked.

‘He brought me tiramisu,’ Steffi said. ‘And he said Babbo wants to see you.’

Of course he did. Luca had refused and now Ronnie had upped the ante and gone to the person he thought would make Luca comply. A little pressure here, a bit of coercion there. What was next? His mother’s pinkie in a plastic bag through the mail?

‘What did you say?’ Luca asked. He strode across the room, heading for the coffee machine. If any conversation warranted another coffee then it was this one. He set the machine to work.

‘I said I’d talk to you,’ Steffi stated. ‘Can I have a macchiato?’

‘Sure.’ He prepared the capsules. ‘Well, now you have. Spoken to me.’

‘And will you?’ Steffi asked. ‘Go see Babbo?’

Luca paused for just a second before answering. ‘No.’

‘Luca!’ Steffi exclaimed, arms shooting out in frustration. ‘This is different! Before now it’s been me and Mom asking you to go visit. This time it’s⁠—’

‘Dad’s second-in-command-o, busting into people’s apartments before the sun is up and threatening them.’

‘He didn’t threaten me,’ Steffi insisted. ‘I told you, he brought me—’ She stopped herself. ‘Ah, he came to see you too, didn’t he?’

‘Yeah,’ Luca said above the noise of the coffee machine. ‘And he didn’t come offering desserts.’

‘So you should just go see Babbo,’ Steffi stated, grabbing the finished coffee and cradling it in her hands, blowing on the top.

‘Oh, OK, yeah, I should absolutely do what the freaking crazy-looking thug tells me to do or what my sister tells me to do because the crazy-looking thug has coerced her with tiramisu.’

‘Well, maybe, you can think about it and let him know at Mom’s birthday dinner.’ Steffi took a sip of the drink, all wide eyes and full of hope.

‘He’s coming to Mom’s birthday dinner?’ Luca asked.

‘He’s family, Luca. Everyone is gonna be there.’

Luca shook his head. ‘Why is there no distinction between “family” and “business” anymore?’

‘There never was,’ Steffi reminded him. ‘You just decided to opt out. Of all of it.’

‘For good reason,’ he retorted. ‘Because it’s toxic, Steffi. You see that, right? You know that?’

His sister simply covered her lips in macchiato and stayed quiet. Maybe he had said too much. Steffi was in an impossible situation, as was he. The difference was, she had never tried to turn her back, but instead kept turning a blind eye. However, it was one thing wasting his breath, but quite another being in the middle of this power struggle his father had created.