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“Yeah. All the usual stipulations. No guns, no contact with witnesses, yada yada. But he will be getting out soon. Once shit is settled, I’m gonna send someone in to do a sweep of his place. Check for bugs. Cops were all over his place. Then I’m gonna have someone run him over a new, clean phone.”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
“I want to see him eventually, but I know they’re gonna have eyes on him for a while. Visitors are always immediate family.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “But we can figure that out. We have eyes everywhere. At least his ma and Silvano can see him. Maybe Sil can get some information for us.”
“I want to look him in the eye and ask why the fuck he did this,” Lorenzo said, voice rough.
Lorenzo wore the crown well, but that didn’t mean that it didn’t get heavy sometimes.
“Yeah. He owes you an explanation,” I agreed.
The rest of the day involved waiting to hear from Santi that the bail was posted, then waiting for updates on Cosimo’s release. Amongst the usual work shit that was always going on.
Especially knowing the scrutiny was going to be on us again for a while, so we were reaching out to fucking every capo to make sure they kept their soldiers in line and that the soldiers kept the associates in line.
Organizations like ours were much bigger than they looked on the surface. It took a lot of juggling to keep all the balls in the air.
I was feeling run the fuck down by the time Lorenzo finally decided to go join Gia in putting the kids to bed.
“You heading out soon?” I asked Ant as I moved down the steps.
“Yeah, my relief is on his way. Thinking of dropping into Mom’s place to snag some food. Want to come?”
“Nah, man. Thanks. I didn’t sleep much last night,” I said. “Gonna try to catch up.”
“Alright. Give the girl a break tonight,” he said, making me turn back.
“What?”
“She’s been running herself ragged all day,” he explained. “In and out, over and over. And each time she came in, there was a new stain on her shirt,” he added with a smile.
“You’re just glad that there’s someone else who has half as bad of luck as you.”
He chuckled at that as I made my way down the street, unlocking the door, and moving inside.
I let out a little whistle tune to announce my presence, making her back walk out of the kitchen with a smile, still holding a big bowl against her chest.
Her hair was pulled up in one of those claw clips, leaving just a couple of strands to fall around her face, something that made it even fucking prettier. Because I needed that with my already complicated feelings going on with her.
“I know that song,” she said, eyes scrunching up like she was trying to place it.
“‘The Stranger,’ by Billy Joel,” I said.
Then watched as her eyes went huge, a deer in the headlights look.
Weird.
“My mom is a huge Billy Joel fan,” I said, confused by her reaction. “All the Italian-American musicians really. Billy Joel, Sinatra, Dean Martin… I always default back to them,” I said. “You cooking?”
“I wasn’t expecting you so early,” she admitted, wincing. “I kind of just got started. Haven’t really figured out your schedule yet.”
“That’s because I don’t really have one,” I said, shrugging. “Cook whenever you can fit it in. I can always heat something up if I’m late. Or keep myself busy until it’s done. How was shopping today?”
“Oh, so… do you mind coming in here? I’m really trying not to overcook these lasagne noodles. Or, you know, burn the sauce.”
Fuck.
Lasagne.
One of my favorites.
I followed her into the kitchen, taking in her chaos all around. Bowls here, opened containers of ricotta there, half-shredded square of mozzarella, spice jars all over.
There was no order to this chaos like you might find in my mom’s or my sisters’ kitchens. But, somehow, I kind of liked the crazy. Gave you a look inside Avery’s chaotic mind.
“As you can see, I kind of focused on the kitchen mostly,” she said, putting down her bowl to go stir the sauce. “I figured with the bedrooms being mostly done, this was kind of the next most important spot.”
“Yeah, I agree,” I said, scooting some of her mess over so I could get to the coffee pot even as the scent of tomato, basil, oregano, cheese, and the sizzling ground meat in the pan met my nose, making my stomach grumble at its emptiness.
“So I got the dinner set. Pretty, but very basic,” she said, reaching up into a cabinet to show me the stoneware she’d picked out. White with a slight speckle in it. “I picked this one because they actually had a pasta bowl option. And, I mean, if you’re going to have a dinner set, pasta bowls are kind of a necessity.”
