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14
Enzo
Iweave by the patrons waiting to be seated, finding Dom at his usual table at the Trading Post. He’s already scarfing down his lobster mac and cheese. Most people would say Dom is intimidating as hell, but I don’t think they’d have the same opinion if they saw him eating mac and cheese for lunch. Come to Trading Post any Thursday and you’ll find Dominic Mancini in the flesh.
Before sitting, I shrug off my jacket. Seriously, when is summer going to arrive? “How nice of you to wait for us.”
Dom barely looks up, chewing his mouthful of pasta.
Our waitress arrives almost instantly. “Hey, Enzo.”
“Kate, how’s it going?”
She grabs the pen from behind her ear and positions her notepad even though I’m sure she knows our orders by heart. “Doing all right. You?”
“Good. I’ll have the goat cheese pizza and a water for right now.”
She nods, doesn’t bother writing it down, and peers across the restaurant toward the doors. “Carmelo coming too?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll grab his Stella.”
“You’re the best.” I smile at her before she leaves.
Dom wipes his mouth with his napkin. “Since you failed at your mission, we have something new to discuss.”
“Which is?” I unroll my silverware from my napkin and place the napkin on my lap.
“I don’t want to waste time telling just you. We’ll wait for Carm.”
I nod. “So what, I’ll watch you eat?”
“I have shit I need to take care of. Do you have any idea what happened today?” He grabs his fork again.
“Do you carry antacids around with you, big brother?”
He narrows his eyes, piling another mouthful of food onto his fork.
“Sorry I’m a few minutes late.” Carm walks in, sans coat, and sits down, eyeing Dom already halfway through his meal before shifting his vision to me, silently asking ‘what the fuck?’
“He’s in a hurry,” I say.
“Hurry? Do you know how long it took me to get all the way down here? How many times have I said we shouldn’t meet at lunch?”
“Yet here you are,” Dom says.
Carm rolls his eyes, then smiles and looks at me. “Hey, thanks for the other night. Turns out Trina and Kitty were into having fun as a group.”
“You know those are fake names, right?”
“No. Why would they use fake names?” Carm seems alarmed by the thought. “Should I have used a fake name?”
“Since your half-naked body is plastered on Times Square, I’d say don’t bother,” Dom deadpans.
“Here you go.” Kate comes by and puts down our drinks.
“Kate!” Carm’s boisterous personality alerts everyone in a five-foot radius that he knows our waitress.
