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“What do you think your pops would want for his birthday?” Jefa and I are going on a shopping spree in Brooklyn and buying a gift for her dad is one of the most difficult things to do.
One, the man has everything so getting him something he doesn't already have is tricky. Last year I managed to acquire a custom made Brioni suit for him, not an easy thing to do especially when there's a long wait list. Luckily I made a connection with a tailor who owed me. Two, because theman is picky as hell. I've never met a man so damn anal about material or smells. Jefa got him an expensive bottle of cologne but he said it smelled like cow manure!
Jefa cocks her brow at me, “You know damn well I don't know what the hell he'd want.”
We both laugh at this but continue our search for the perfect gift. The man may be stubborn and picky but he's also one of the kindest men I've ever met. To me and his daughter anyway. I've seen him cut someone down without a second glance, but with me, he's always been caring.
“Well, I think I'm going to hit up that antique store. I think he'd like that stylish parchment-like paper and I'll have a custom made wax seal to pair with it! I think he'll like the uniqueness of it.” I feel much better having figured out my gift for Diego.
“I think I'm just going to get him those rose gold Bvlgari cufflinks. They'll pair well with the rose gold bracelet I got him last year. Now that we got that out of the way, I want to have a girl talk with you. Let's go eat!” Jefa bounces on her feet with a couple of claps which make the ominous words sound less dreadful but more than likely, I'm going to hate this chitchat.
Forget waiting until we have food in our faces, I want to know what she has on her mind now. I speed walk to catch up to Jefa and stop her from crossing the street.
“What is this conversation about and why can't you just spit it out now?”
“Calmate, Silver.”Calm down. “It's nothing important. Just girl talk, that's all. Sheesh.” She runs across the street flipping off whoever honked at her as I walk leisurely behind her. I'm not going to be running in these heels.
The hostess leads us to a quiet table towards the back. We always sit with our backs to the wall, keeping our eyes on the dining guests and the exits. I may not be a made man but I've seen and done some things that I must keep an eye out, even with our guards nearby. You won't catch me slipping.
La Cucina,The Kitchen, is a fairly new restaurant that the Renzetti family opened about four years ago. The menu is said to be from their grandmother's recipe book and I hear they're planning on expanding the locations. Diego enjoys the high-class vibe and delectable menu so much that he has offered to buy buildings in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona and California, the four states his cartel controls, just to have the menu nearby.
This particular restaurant is designed in a way that tells you the story of how the Renzettis came to America; the beautiful story of the Italian pilgrimage to the states. The wall behind me is a huge mural of the old country, Italy. It depicts a vineyard in Sicily that the Renzetti Familia comes from. The wall beside that is a printed photo that's been turned into wallpaper. It shows a large ship filled with immigrants coming to the shores of America. The bottom corner of the wall has a handwritten date on it; April 8th 1899.
The beautiful photo always hits me in the feels. An era when immigrants were welcomed and only stopped to check for lice. A time when America was building it’s population with different colors and cultures.
“Miss Mazzi, miss Blanca. So good to see you two in here. What can I get you to drink?” The manager Paul Fazioli, says while placing two glasses of water on our table and his charmingly accented voice pulls me from my musings. Paul always seesto us personally and he makes sure we have everything we need. He’s a good man, the kind every little girl needs as a grandfather.
“Hey, Pauly boy. How's your wife?” I love calling himboyeven though he's about seventy years old. He gets a kick out of it so it makes me smile.
“Sta facendo del ben.”She’s doing good. “She’s got her garden growing well and plenty of books to read so that keeps her off my back.” I smile at his playful words
“Why do you need her off your back, Pauly? You got some hot girls who need tending to, huh?” Jefa joins in on the teasing. Her words still make the old man smile and it’s easy to see the handsome man he was in his younger years.
Pauly chuckles as he answers her, “Solo voi due donne.”Only you two ladies.
“Ah, you’re too sweet, Pauly. We’ll have the house wine and fresh salad.”
Once he leaves to take care of our order I turn to Jefa and wait for her to finish checking her phone before demanding to know what it is she wants to talk about. I’m fairly certain she’s going to want to talk about Twitch. She hasn’t asked a single word about him but I know Johnny told her about Twitch being in the shower with me three years ago. I gotta give it to the girl, she’s patient as fuck but it was only a matter of time before she began pestering me about us.
Us.
That’s a funny thought because there is no us. When he acted as if I were just a piece of meat it pissed me off, not because of the disrespectful words but because of the cowardice behind them. I know he didn’t mean those words, I know because I witnessed his walls crumble. Just as I witnessed them build back up when he saw that his feelings for me were returned in full. I felt the same and he bitched out.
That’s the only reason I’m so pissed.
Emotional weakness is a turn off for me. I’m not looking for a man to cuddle and tell me sweet nothings all day, hell no, but I want a man who isn’t afraid to love and be loved. Being talented with your mouth and fingers is wonderful. Having a mouthwatering dick is fan-fucking-tastic, but being a bitch about your heart? No thank you. Not with Twitch at least. Any other guy I’d have been good withhit it and quit itbut for some inexplicable reason Twitch is my kryptonite. With his beautiful face, stormy hazel eyes and gorgeous body, how can I not want more than a quick fuck?
Honestly, those thoughts have never crossed my mind before this damnable man. I’ve never givenlovea second thought because I saw what love can do to even the best people. It can be your strength or your weakness and I was never willing to find out what it’d be for me.
Until Twitch.
“Hellooooo.” Jefa’s voice pulls me outof myfrustrated thoughts just as the server brings our wine and salad. It’s three o’clock in the afternoon but a little wine during the day never hurt anyone. In fact, I’m pretty sure you can die of a brain hemorrhage or possibly kill someone if you don’t have a little alcohol to chill your mind while people-ing. Don’t believe me? Google it.
“Sorry I was thinking about drinking this wine before strangling you. What were you saying?” I give Jefa a sweet smile over the rim of my glass. The fruity tanginess of the wine glides smoothly over my taste buds and loosens my shoulders.
Jefa chuckles as she picks at her salad. “Good, drink up because I want to tell you who I invited to pop’s birthday party.”
She looks at me from beneath her lashes weighing my facial expression which I’m pretty sure is blank unless the snarl I heard in my head actually came out.
