Boss (Chianti Kisses #2) Read online

  I roll my eyes as I help her through the push doors from the emergency ward and out into the main reception area, just in time to see a cardboard tissue box hurl across the room and barely miss Carmine as he dodges clear of it.

  V and I quickly stare at each other in disbelief.

  “You! You jerk!” Theresa screams at her ex crush as he dodges once again, this time escaping the thick magazine Theresa sends his way.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Forget it, alright?” he begs her.

  And then another magazine is tossed. The few people in the far side of the waiting room are staring in awe at the display.

  “Enough!” Dom demands. Both Carmine and Theresa freeze at the sound of the imposing voice. “We’re leaving. Now. Can we please not act like children?”

  ~*~

  The tension in the air is palpable. Theresa is sitting across from me, sulking with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Her eyes are wrinkled at the corners, with her lids fighting hard to scowl themselves as she stares out the window.

  Her body is rigid, tense, almost statue like, squeezed up against the interior of the car door, trying to separate herself from Carmine next to her. to provide as much space possible so that no part of her sitting form comes into contact with his.

  I exhale as I witness this juvenile display of contempt between them. Carmine, on the other hand, looks smug. He sits near her, edging her to scoot further away even though he has plenty of room on his far side. His legs are opened, his thigh inching closer to hers. I see her eyes dart to it before she shifts once again to stay unsullied by contact.

  These two are going to be more of a headache than I thought.

  As for V, sitting next to me, she’s not acting much better. Her shoulders are hard under my protective arm, almost angled from me. Her uninjured hand has been playing with the tight bandaging of the other, inspecting it, nervously picking at it. I know she feels my eyes on her, but is doing a damn good job pretending she doesn’t.

  This is great. It’s like eighth grade all over again.

  Being in a cramped limo with Theresa and Carmine, isn’t exactly my first choice. Or any sane person’s first choice. But leaving them alone to ride in the second car seemed like even less of a viable option. I didn’t see any possible outcome that didn’t involve him walking away bruised and battered or her walking away knocked up. At least this way I can keep an eye on them.

  The limo pulls out of traffic to park curbside in front of Theresa’s building. She wastes no time in grabbing hold of the handle to flee to freedom. She escapes the

  confines of the car quickly, not even bothering to look back before she disappears into the protection of the lobby. I can understand her not offering Carmine any sort of goodbye, or even me for that matter. She made it very clear that she felt it was a betrayal on my part to even invite that little… what did she call him? Oh yeah, “two-bit, slimy, little porn-star wannabe.”

  She’s pissed that I invited him to stay with us. Even though I’m sure she wouldn’t be quite so angry if she knew why. But, knowing how Theresa is unable to maintain the smallest of secrets, no sooner would I have told her the truth for Carmine’s sudden arrival, than she would have let it unintentionally slip to V.

  That explains why she just stormed off without even the littlest bit of recognition to Carmine or myself, but she left without even looking at V. These two had grown up closer than true sisters, with each of them having been the only girls among brothers of their own, so I’ve seen them go through sisterly crap before. But ignoring V when she’s just left the emergency room is a bit much. This situation is pissing me off now.

  “You two stay here. I’ll be back.”

  I make sure to speak loudly enough for the driver to hear. The cars are passing quickly but I spot an opening to make my way without further ER visits today.

  I jog quickly out of dodge and into the door after Theresa.

  “Wait!” I call out to her as she waits impatiently for the coming elevator.

  She turns, arms still crossed, scowl still showing.

  “What do you want, Dom? I’ve really had just about enough today.”

  I stop short, close enough for us to keep our conversation private, as other residents of the building walk thorough.

  “Good to know.” That may have sounded a little colder than she was prepared for as I see her eyes harden further. “Look, I don’t care about whatever scorned puppy-love nonsense is going on between you and Carmine. He won’t be here long, I hope, so just stay clear of each other. And if you’re pissed at me for not telling you about a last-minute guest, who by the way, I had no idea you had a thing for, then fine… be pissed at me. But my wife, your best friend, your sister-in-law, deserves better than that, Theresa. Whatever this crap is, squash it.”

  The pinging of the elevator sounds loudly, interrupting us at a perfectly inopportune time for her to conveniently leave the conversation. She steps into the carpeted, rich paneled wood interior of the elevator and stares me in the eye.

  Theresa and I have always been close, having only had each other, whereas the Lombardis had plenty of siblings. For she and I, it was just the two of us. I think I was more of a father to her… especially after dad died. But no matter the role I filled, brother, pseudo father figure…. I’ve seen her tantrums enough to recognize the one she is in the midst of now.

  “Good to know,” she spits back at me as the moving doors close in on themselves. I gulp down the curse word I’m itching to scream out. I can think it, because she’s sure acting like one right now, but I’d never call her one out loud. And God help anyone else who tried to call her one in my presence.

  The rest of the car ride home is quiet. Eerily quiet. It’s not late but we all look tired, worn.

  “I’m going to go take a nap, I’m exhausted from all this,” V disappears up the stairs toward our bedroom, leaving Carmine and me to ourselves.

  I move us into my office, throwing my suit jacket onto a nearby chair and making a bee-line to the bar. I’m heavy handed on the delicate crystal barware, but I don’t really care. The clinking and clattering breaks the silence shrouding around us.

  “What happened?” I’m terse.

  He speaks aloud to my back, as I finish my first glass and pour another.

  “They were having lunch and some kind of argument, and then Vincenza knocked a glass over, cut herself. She fainted when I came in. That’s when Uncle Mario called the ambulance.”

  I swallow the last bit playing on my tongue. “I know all that. I mean, what were they fighting about?”

  Carmine shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t know, boss.”

  I turn to face him as he sits to share the rest of his thoughts with me. “I made myself scarce so your sister wouldn’t get upset if she saw me. I mean, I didn’t think she’d still hold a grudge, but Vincenza thought it best not to test the waters.”

  I walk with glass in hand. “Well, that worked out well. Is this going to be an issue? I mean, honestly, I had no idea at first that you two even had a thing, let alone a thing to be avoided. Apparently, there’s still something there, even if it’s hate. But crap like that gets into things. It’s too late to make a switch, but I need to know if you’re going to be able to stay professional. I know my sister. Unfortunately, I can’t guarantee she’ll be able to keep her cool. She’s got a quiet, simmering temper. When it blows, it takes a while for things to settle.”

  Carmine loosens his tie. “I would never, ever, want to hurt your sister. If I thought even for a second, that she still had… feelings… or anger for me, I would never have come. I would have been the first person to suggest someone else. I can swear to you, Dom, I will do everything I can to make sure it doesn’t get in the way of what I’m here to do.”

  I nod, falling back into my chair, surrendering to the stresses of the day.

  “Just… I don’t know… just don’t let this thing get any more awkward than it a
lready is. Now… I need to stop thinking about my sister’s love life or even the ruins of it. Back to business. Nick’s got some early leads on the photographer. Some possible matches. A couple of those can be crossed off. One’s in jail, been there for a few months, definitely not taking any pictures of anybody. Another’s six feet deep. A car accident a while back. But there are two that could be matches. Two twin brothers. Part-time paparazzi. Tomorrow, I’ll have the house detail on V, so you can pay the brothers a visit and see what you can find out.”

  He takes in the information I’m laying out. “You got it, boss. How about tonight? You need me here?”

  I eye him. “Not especially. We’re in for the night and I’ve doubled the security around the perimeter. Why? Hot date?” I ask sarcastically.

  Carmine stands, stretching his legs. “You could say that.”

  My eyes dart up to the private staircase leading to my bedroom where I know V is tucked away. “Don’t be late in the morning.” I speak out to him as he leaves my presence. My drink is my only companion now.

  I slouch back, looking to hide from the day. Just a little escape, to press the pause button and let my head catch up with everything. I know she’s OK now, but it was terrible timing. I had opened an anonymous email just moments before getting the call to go to the hospital. A very ominous email very simply stating that collateral damage is sometimes the impetus to make smart business decisions.

  It may have been before I knew that it was only a minor cut, but it just fucked me up getting that email and then a phone call to go to the ER. I can’t take much more of this. I’m walking on ice, just trying to make it to the other side without falling through; but every step I take, I hear the cracking under foot.

  I abandon the ornately cut crystal glass on my desktop and take the stairs, winding around and around till I reach the top, where the carved wooden door provides me entrance to the master bedroom.

  The curtains are drawn halfway, limiting the late afternoon light. Music is playing lightly, one of V’s favorite songs. She’s changed into some yoga pants and a long sweater, sitting at the writing desk with her thin laptop opened and working in front of her.

  She doesn’t fully acknowledge me, instead just kind of nods her head in my direction as she continues to concentrate on the text in front of her. I stand in back of her, gently pulling her shoulders back to rest against me. She exhales deeply, lifting her good hand to rest on mine over her shoulder.

  “I ruined my dress,” she whispers. “You bought it for me. I loved it.”

  I close my eyes, lowering my head, and kiss her hair.

  “I’ll buy you another one.”

  She uses her bandaged hand to reach forward and close her laptop. “That’s not what I mean, Dom. It was beautiful, a gift, something you gave me and it’s ruined.”

  “The most important thing is that you’re OK,” I reply. It’s true. I don’t give a damn about some clothes.

  She shakes me off, standing to face me. “You don’t get it, do you? Do you think my mom ever asked my dad questions about his business? I mean, I know I was a baby then and for most of my life I still had no idea what he really did for a living, but do you think she did? Do you think she ever asked him about it?”

  I’m lost. What does this have to do with her dress? I’m sure my facial expressions give my thoughts away, because V starts to get flustered, pacing the room.

  “What are you talking about, baby? I think you’re just shaken up from your hand.”

  She shakes her head emphatically. “No. No, don’t do that. I’m not some weak little missus that can’t think straight because she got a couple of stitches. Big deal.”

  I throw my hands up, exhaling deep and loudly. “I don’t get it, V. What… what are trying to say?”

  She tightens her lips, I can see the wealth of words behind her setting eyes, trying to make themselves clear. “How does this work, Dom? Should I ask the questions, not sure I’ll even get the truth, or should I just ignore it all, bury my head in the sand. Is that what my mom did back then? Is that what your mom did?”

  She’s practically yelling at me. We don’t fight very often, but most of the time, I at least have a clue what we’re fighting about. Not this time.

  “You could start by actually making sense. You’re all over the place, V.” I make sure to keep my tone down, not willing to contribute to the escalation.

  She cocks her hip to the side. “Sense? You want me to make sense? Why don’t you help me? Help me make sense of the fact that your new business protégé isn’t even stepping foot into your office, but instead is accompanying me to lunch with a gun!”

  I freeze mid-breath. Her eyes don’t let up. Fuck. I moan as I rub my temples with my fingers.

  “What do you--” I’m interrupted.

  “Don’t. You think long and hard, Domenico, before you even attempt to lie to me or to insult me by playing dumb.”

  I bite my lip. I promised V I would never lie to her again. We barely got past my hiding our family’s secrets from her in the beginning of our relationship. I though I had lost her. By the grace of God, she found her way back to me. I promised her then and there I would never jeopardize us like that again.

  I’m caught between a rock and a hard place. What do I say? Because of me, because of our business, you’re in danger? Someone is trying to use you to strong-arm me because they know it could work? Because I would do anything to keep you safe?

  I can’t tell her these things. I know I should, but I can’t.

  “V… I love you. It’s--It’s complicated. It’s under control, I promise. Just… just trust me.”

  A lonely tear drops. “So that’s how this is going to be? Ask my questions, but just trust you when you don’t respect me enough to give you an answer? Maybe that’s what happened when my mom would ask. When your mom would ask.”

  Her voice has lowered, softened. She walks past me to the double entry doors to our room, opening one and stepping back.

  “I think you should sleep elsewhere.” She’s firm.

  I stare at her in shock, moving to her. “V… you’re over reacting.”

  She throws her hand up, pointing its finger toward me. “No! If anything, I’m under reacting! Otherwise I’d be out that door fast enough to give you whiplash. Instead, I’m going to give you the opportunity to get your head out of your ass. But don’t test me, I’m not patient enough to wait very long.”

  And then she storms past me into the bathroom and slams the door.

  Fabulous! I guess we’ve just had our first fight as newlyweds. Fanfuckingtastic

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CARMINE

  How many years has it been? There was a time when I would be able to answer how many years, months, days it was since I last saw her. Since the day I left without any warning, any goodbye. Over time, the pain had eased, and I’d chalked it all up to being a first love/teenage broken heart. I’d gone my way, she’d gone hers.

  But this afternoon, it was like the reset button had been pressed. It’s been four hours since I’d seen her last. I’m strong, I’m lethal, even. How the hell is she having this effect on me? I knew I’d see her again. It was one of the persuading points that convinced me to take this job so easily. Mr. Moretti wouldn’t have been happy if I turned him down, but I’m sure I could have made myself useful enough at home to have him think twice and send someone else. But the promise of helping Dom would help to pay back some of the generosity his family has afforded my family over the years.

  His father, back in the days when he was a real force to be reckoned with in the neighborhood, had offered my uncle enough money at a reasonable interest rate to start up Alberti’s. Where other bosses would look to run the restaurant into the group and use it as nothing more than a front to move money, run up tons of credit and then torch the place to collect the insurance, Mr. D. was different.

  He came here with nothing, as did my family. He wanted to help give my uncle a little slice of the Americ
an pie. Sure it was a pizza pie, but it was a damn good pie. Uncle Mario was able to pay Mr. D. back, leaving the restaurant free and clear. He could have walked away then, having no association to my family or its restaurant. But he didn’t, thankfully.

  No longer having the note for the restaurant held by one of the most powerful players in the game left us vulnerable. Many assumed that we no longer had the protection of Mr. D since his money was repaid. Others started to move in, hustling us for protection money, or running up huge tabs that they had no intention of paying off.

  Mr. D. caught wind of what was happening and stepped in, making it known that his men would be protecting our interests. Anyone from the other families who attempted to step in and bother us would be showing a direct sign of disrespect to the DiBenedettos and the Lombardis. Their help meant all the more to us because it was unsolicited. My uncle was too proud to ask for their help, wanting to take care of his family on his own.

  The generosity and protection of Dom and Vincenza’s family helped my family when there was no one else willing to help. In return, my uncle made a blood oath to their families. We were loyal to them, joining the numbers of supporters, soldiers for them, although they were one of the more peaceful of the families.

  They kept to themselves, protected their own, and never made any power grabs. The only trouble they ever had was when other families or some smaller gangs tried to overstep bounds or mess around with businesses.

  Things were good, everyone prospered. Every summer, I would come work at the restaurant and one day wanted to be just like my uncle, and make my own oath.

  But that day never came. The family was disbanded after Mr. D. died. With Dom too young to take control himself, and the Lombardi boys, John, Tony, and Mike, also too young, they were discouraged from following the footsteps of their own father. Their own dad had died years before, under some pretty shady circumstances. It no doubt left a very bitter impression on his family, and I can understand why his boys wouldn’t want to risk a repeat.