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Casso laughs loudly. “Ah, don’t hold it against him. Fynn spent a while in a coma and now he’s making up for lost time by torturing you, apparently.”
“I need to entertain myself somehow.”
“Yes, well, I’ve been torturing him right back. Except my torture has a purpose and will make him better in the end, while all he wants to do is get a rise out of me for his own pleasure.”
“That’s the difference between a therapist and a sadist.” Casso sits back and studies Mirella. “My wife seems to like you, by the way, and I trust Olivia’s judgment. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you’d like, assuming Fynn is happy with your situation. My brothers and sister have a wide latitude when it comes to their personal lives, and while my word is final, I do want them to make their own decisions. Consider yourself a welcome guest from my point of view.”
“We’ve got some time left on the contract,” she says, evading that comment.
“Speaking of time.” I cut into the conversation before it goes somewhere I don’t want it to go. I’d rather not discuss how long Mirella’s going to be staying with us right now, not when I haven’t even decided myself if I can handle having her around for much longer. “Casso, there’s a brunch coming up with the Phoenix Business Alliance. I want to make an appearance.”
Casso scratches his chin. “It’ll be a small group. Mostly a sit-down affair. But you’ll have to make an entrance, and I suspect there will be talk if you use a cane.”
“I’m hoping I won’t have to.” I look at Mirella expectantly, and she stares back at me with a deep frown.
“When is this brunch?” she asks carefully.
“In a week,” Casso says.
“It won’t happen. You’re making progress, but a week isn’t enough time.” Mirella rapidly shakes her head like the idea is totally out of the question.
I lean forward, digging my fingers into the bookshelf. A picture of my family rattles in its frame. “All I need to do is walk twenty feet from the back to a table. You can remain seated when the meeting ends and our guests will be escorted out so nothing looks strange there. The meeting is at a restaurant we control, so we can make sure the kitchen’s stocked with our own loyal people. Twenty feet, no cane. That’s all I ask.”
“Brother, maybe we can wait a bit longer. This isn’t exactly important.” Casso’s looking from Mirella to me like he’s not sure who to believe. “The Business Alliance is just a bunch of old men with too much money.”
I stare at Mirella sharply. She has to understand this is about so much more than some brunch with a trade organization. It’s about showing myself to the city again and about getting some modicum of self-respect back. It’s about proving to myself that I can set a goal and reach it, even if that goal’s difficult to achieve. I need this to survive, because otherwise I’m only drifting from one session to the next, waiting and hoping to improve and seeing modest gains at best.
“Why this brunch?” she asks quietly. “I mean, why do you even need to show up?”
“In our line of work, responsibility flows two ways,” I say, speaking before Casso can answer. “The people in our organization and all those related in some way owe us fealty and respect, but in return we owe them as well. If they do things for us, we do things for them. Going to these meetings is one way we show that respect and provide counsel. We listen to their problems and offer solutions if possible, but mostly it’s about putting in the effort. If we start snubbing one of our clients, then our power is diluted. It’s important we do these meetings, even if they seem trivial.”
Mirella glances at Casso, who nods. “He’s overstating it a bit, but he’s right. It would be good for him to attend, even if it’s entirely unnecessary.”
“One week, twenty steps. That’s all I ask.”
Mirella chews her lip. I can tell she doesn’t want to agree, but I waited to ask in front of Casso for a reason. The weight of the Don might pressure her into agreeing, and if she says it’s okay and possible, then Casso can’t try to argue that I’m not able. It’s a bit manipulative, but it’s all I’ve got at this point. Nobody’s going to believe me when I tell them that I can handle this—I need to either show them proof or force them to accept it.
“We can try,” she says finally, but she doesn’t look happy. “We’ll practice and do what we can, but if you’re not ready, I want you to promise you won’t try to kill yourself just so you can go to a meaningless brunch.”
