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Dad walks awkwardly, leaning heavily on his walking stick. Mom stands at his side, looking dignified as always, her gray hair tied up. She’s recently started wearing a pinned-up veil, a strange addition to her wardrobe that makes it look as if she’s in mourning. Dad breaks my goddamn heart. He was a lion before the stroke. Now, it’s a struggle for him to walk to the table. Russel stands at his other side, holding onto his elbow, helping him.
What thefuck?
I stand and rush over to my parents, taking my dad’s arm, ignoring how Russel looks at me. It’s like this bastard thinks he has any right to touch my father. “Hello, Father,” I say. “Mother.”
“Elio,” Mom says, smiling at me warmly. She always looks loving and affectionate when she’s talking to us. It’s when she forgets to put on her brave face that the real misery slithers out.
“This is a nice surprise,” I say, struggling to keep my composure.
“Your father thought it better we attend in person. Russel is a shrewd businessman.”
I don’t have to look at Russel to know this has him beaming. I canfeelthe arrogant sense of victory emanating from him like a big wave. I give Dad my chair, holding it out. He looks like he barely knows where he is. When Mom sits beside him, she leans in, offering Dad her ear. That’s how he communicates these days, through Mom.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” I ask Mom and Dad.
“I’ll have a glass of red wine,” Mom says, “and a water for your father.”
Dad sits there, all six feet two of him, staring blankly ahead. Luca sits on the other side, with Russel beside him. Russel, the leader of theShanks, with his wide stoned eyes and a grin on his face that makes me want to beat the bastard bloody.
“I wasn’t aware you all knew each other,” I say, gesturing to the waiter. “I knew you were business associates, of course, but not friends.”
“Russel helped your father with a project a while back,” Mom says, waving a hand as though it’s not important when it’s more important than any business we’ve handled in the last several years. The fact this piece of shit is somehow affiliated with us…
Scarlet approaches the table. I see Russel leering at her with his beady green eyes. The way he looks at her is more than a leer. It’s like he’s trying to send a message. Maybe I’m seeing things that aren’t there, or perhaps my instincts are dead on the money.
“Yes?” Scarlet says.
“A glass of red and a water,” Russel grunts, talking to her like she’s filth.
She flinches and stares at him. I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing I am.
“It says a lot about a man,” I say once Scarlet walks away, “how he speaks to waiters and waitresses or anyone who is supposedly beneath him.”
“Does it?” Russel says, way too damn confident with those wide eyes and that punchable face.
“Yes,” I growl, “it does.”
I know for a fact that Mom agrees with this—hell, she’s the one who taught me—but she doesn’t say anything. This is unusual for her. Mom is usually one of the most talkative people in the room, but she’s not accustomed to being involved in business. She’s only here because it’s the only way Dad can or will speak.
Scarlet returns with the drinks. Like every other time she’s been close to me, I have to fight the urge to touch her, but it’s a little different this time. Instead of wanting to indulge all my steamy fantasies, I want to place my hand gently on her and softly tell her everything’s going to be okay. She shoots me a look as she leaves, with terror streaked across her features.
“So,” Mom says, “how much longer until we’re done? Is the business almost concluded?”
“I believe so,” Russel replies. “All that’s left is to shake hands.”
I grind my teeth and almost explode at the prick. “You still haven’t answered my question about income streams,” I snap.
Dad makes a moaning noise. Mom leans in and listens. His voice must be so quiet. Mom has to lean right up against him. After a short while, she sits up and folds her hands. “Your father says the stadium contract is far too valuable to risk with petty squabbles. He wants the Marinos and the Shanks to shake hands and get on with it.”
I almost tell Mom that listening to Dad in his current state is not advisable. However, just like Luca, she doesn’t seem to be able to accept that Dad isn’t the man he was. Anyway, he’s still the don of the Family. The only way to change that would be to get rid of him. I’d kill before I allowed that to happen.
“That sounds good to me,” Russel says.
Yeah, no shit. Ofcourse,it does.
“We’re all going to make a lot of money,” Luca says, looking at me as if to remind me to keep my cool.
I swallow. “Yeah, I guess we are. Excuse me.”
