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Enzo
Walking into my office from a two-hour-long meeting that was a complete waste of my time, I find it on my desk: a large, thick manila envelope still sealed. It’s from my lawyer’s office, the office that has nothing to do with firm business. After twenty-two months of almost weekly correspondence, I hope the fuck to never see anything from them again.
Pauline comes barreling in, before she can say a word, I hold out the envelope. “Shred it.”
She takes it. “If you end another meeting with people fleeing from the room because you’re being too damn demanding, we might end up with an employee shortage.”
“Out of nine proposals for an investment, only three were worth my time. I have a hundred and thirty million sitting doing nothing; I’m not sticking it just anywhere. If they continue to do fucking poorly, I’ll fire them myself. With over a trillion dollars of assets under management only growing year after year, we won’t have an employee shortage either. I pay better than ninety percent of employers in this city with better benefits than any large company besides Sabatini Real Estate. We’ll have no problem finding people who want to be here.”
Pauline shakes her head. “I wonder sometimes why I put up with you.”
I’m not worried she’s going anywhere—she’s been with me since the first day I started. Twelve years later, I’m pretty sure we’re stuck with each other. Then again, at sixty-two she often threatens to retire. I’m betting she has at least another ten years in her gas tank. “Because you like a challenge and I pay you better than you’ll find anywhere else. Leave now and you can make Raymond’s graduation; Everett is waiting to take you.”
She rolls her eyes. “There may be some hope for you after all.” She stops, then sighs. I know what’s coming, I don’t welcome it. “Do you want to talk about, you know?” I’m vaguely amused at her attempt. Another sigh. “That’s what I thought. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Once she’s gone, I make a call. “Enzo, how’s my favorite brother-in-law doing?”
“I know for a fact you say the same thing to Dante.”
She giggles. “Yes, but with you I mean it.”
“Again, you say the same thing to Dante.” She laughs loudly. I don’t bother waiting for her to lie again. It’s annoying how infectious her laughter is. “I’m fine, Alicia. I want the foundation to look into a not-for-profit. One of my employees brought it to me for an ask to be considered for funding. I’ll send you the proposal on it. I think the foundation should see if they are doing things right, and if they are, kick some money their way.”
“Bethany accuses you of being hollow, but I know you have a heart buried deep inside that big muscle-bound chest of yours.”
I’m well aware of Bethany’s thoughts on my lack of emotion, she’s told me to my face often enough. “Bethany’s not all wrong. The only reason I want the foundation to consider it is because an employee’s mother started it. She’s a good employee, valuable, she’s of no use to me if she’s stressed and anxious trying to help her mother get it off the ground.”
Alicia groans. “Okay, it’s buried deep, deep inside you. What’s the scoop?”
I give her the details.
“I’ll run this through Diego for financials first then dig deep, hopefully within a week or two we can make a decision. And we’ll see you Sunday at the house. Now that it’s no longer freezing Cesare wants to barbeque. He learned how to smoke a brisket so it’s brisket for everyone. Tony and Dominic are coming too.” Christ, the last thing I want is— “It’s been months since we’ve seen you. If you try to get out of coming, I’ll send Bethany and Dante to get you.”
Smothering a sigh. “Fine. I’ll be there.”
“Yay, love you too bye.”
I’ll leave it to later to figure out how to get out of going. Now, I need to dig into picking investments.
It’s almost three hours later when my office door opens, then bangs against the wall behind it. I look up to find Dante wandering around my office, his gaze flicking around. It has been a while since he’s been in here, usually I came to his office or met him downstairs. For years Cesare, Dante, and I had dinner together at the end of the day. Then Cesare and Alicia moved to the suburbs and it was me and Dante, until Dante got married. In the last two years it’s only been a handful of times when Bethany was working late. There is no doubt in my mind I have Pauline to thank for him being here now.
“Go away.” I go back to the report I’m reading.
“Nope, come on, old man, it’s time for lunch. Actually, well past time, I got caught up with a client.”
I shake my head. “I’m not hungry.” Damn it, I am. My eyes flick to the time in the corner of my computer. It’s almost two.
“I can always order in. We can eat in here and stink up your office the way I know you hate. Hey, when did you get this? Is it who I think it is?”
He picks up my latest acquisition, a small bronze Eternal Springtime. “If you think it’s a Rodin, then yes, it is. If you drop it and break it I will beat you with it.”
“No you won’t, you’d be too worried about getting blood on it. How does fried fish sound? Tasty and stinky, I’ll make a call.”
My stomach growls. “Fine, since you’re not going to leave me the fuck alone.”
The asshole laughs. “Let’s go, I’m starving.”
Downstairs a Town Car is waiting, meaning Che isn’t coming as well. Which is a relief, I’m not in the mood for dealing with him in the dad mode he’s been in since everything blew up in my face. Dante reads me clearly. “Che is stuck with a client, he sent me in his stead. I’m supposed to make sure you don’t go out tonight to get fucked up because the divorce papers came today. I told Che no way were you going to break your usual pattern of finding some chick to fuck like you have five nights out of seven for the last year and a half. But Che pointed out Pauline hadn’t made dinner reservations like she usually does for you. So here I am.”
“Pauline is going to pay.” He doesn’t need to know I might take a woman out every night, but I’ve fucked less than half of them and none in the last six months. They were nothing more than a way of hitting back at Sheila, as well as an excuse to get space from my family’s sympathy. Family; sometimes they’re a good thing, sometimes they’re a pain in the ass.
“No, she’s not. You put her through enough shit anyway. God forbid she’s concerned enough about you to tell your brothers you got the divorce papers you’ve been waiting almost two damn years for, so we might be there for you in case you need someone to talk to. Are you really not going to say a damn thing about your ex-wife and all the bullshit of the last two years?” I’ve gone without food longer than this before. I check
the street. “Charlie, lock the damn doors. My dumbass brother thinks he’s going to escape out into crazy-ass traffic.”
The locks click. Exhaling slowly. “There is nothing to discuss. Sheila was a bad investment that didn’t pan out, a mistake I’ll never make again. A postmortem is unnecessary.”
Dante rolls his eyes. At least he drops it, for now.
We arrive at Porter’s, a favorite steakhouse where we come regularly. Since we come here often we are immediately shown to a table in the quiet back of the restaurant. Before the hostess gets two feet away I tell her I want a scotch. I’m going to need it to get through this lunch.
Dante asks for one as well. “You know what I think? I think you don’t like being reminded you’re human, thereby fallible, not completely perfect.” I ignore him as I give the waitress my order. He sighs. “At least the divorce happened the way you wanted it to. The prenup held, she only got fifty grand and her engagement ring. I’m sure her lawyers’ fees alone were more than that, even if she did manage to get the full value of the ring. Now you can finally get the hell out of the condo you hate so much. You got a new place in mind?”
I shrug. I loathe the condo, can’t wait to move out. I gave in to Sheila’s request to start our married life in a new home purchased as ours instead of just mine. Since I purchased it before we were married in my name, I refused to leave or give it up in the divorce, no matter how much I hated it. “No, not really. Send me your best residential agent to find me something.”
“Chloe is my best.” I’ve heard her name often over the last few years. Che handled the commercial side of Sabatini Real Estate and Dante residential. Over the last two years they put people in place to pick up the slack they created in no longer working the fourteen-hour days they used to. “You’ll have to wait a minute though. She’s working with a client. It won’t take her long, another day, maybe two. You’re going to owe me for taking up her valuable time. Come over for dinner tonight. Take one night off from pussy patrol, the women will be there tomorrow.”
He thinks he’s trying to help; arguing with him won’t work. “Fine.”
“I’m going to let you have first pick, but apparently we’re moving soon too. Bethany doesn’t want to move to the ’burbs, but she’s adamant we need a yard with grass and shit. No more condos, and she wants us moved in and settled before the baby comes.”
Bethany is currently six months along with their first baby, her second pregnancy but only their first to make it this far. She experienced a miscarriage a few years ago. The painful experience left them guarded in their excitement over this baby. “Three months seems like enough time. Why doesn’t she want to move to the suburbs? If she wants a house, there’s more room and choice there than in the city of Chicago.”
“She doesn’t want me doing the drive. I tried to tell her I’m good to cut down on work for her and the baby. But she knows me well, I love what I do. Che is content to come in twice a week, working the rest of the week from home. When I tried it I was bored out of my mind. Once the baby comes, I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay with cutting back too, but if not it’s best to stay close. What are you looking for? You ready to move out to the suburbs?”
I hadn’t thought much about it other than getting the hell out of where I’m living now. “I’m not ready to move to the suburbs either but a house, some space inside and out with a pool I don’t have to share sounds good.”
For the rest of lunch we discuss property.
We’re back in the car before Dante brings it up again. “You know, it’s not like you got what you deserved. You always say that shit and it’s not true. There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with wanting a family. Getting married to a woman you didn’t love to get it, maybe not the best way to go about it. But the yearning for kids and the wife and everything that comes with them is ingrained in our DNA the same way we want to be hot when we’re cold and to eat when we’re hungry. You didn’t get what you deserved, but you will.”
I hear the words, they mean nothing. I made an extreme error in breaking my long-held vow not to get married. After a year of weekly exposure to my nephew, Matteo, I wanted a child. At first, I was sure the desire would go away, only as time went on the longing became more intense. I should have ignored it. I’m sure now if I had it would have gone away, eventually. From now on, I’ll be content with my role as an uncle. Lesson learned, I have no desire to make another mistake or discuss it. The car pulls up to the building, I get out, Dante doesn’t. “You coming?”
“No, I have a client I’m supposed to meet. I’m late.” He shrugs without remorse. “Family first.”
I nod. Family; sometimes they’re a pain in the ass, sometimes they’re a good thing.
