It vibrates again once I’m seated, and with my eyestransfixed on the flames dancing against the brick firebox, I pull my phone from my pocket.
Two messages await, one from Vinnie and one from Enzo. It’s no surprise which message I open first.
I’m free Thursday evening, but tomorrow I have back-to-back meetings and don’t anticipate leaving the office until late.
She’s responding to my dinner invitation, and I smile at the way she offers an immediate solution when she cannot accept my original proposal.
Thursday is great. Meet me at Di Mercuitios at seven.
Switching to my conversation with Enzo, I read what he said.
Has my mom shown up yet?
My phone vibrates as a notification banner appears across the top.
Yes, about ten minutes ago. Have you regained your composure?
I swipe back to Vinnie’s messages.
Dinner out?
Don’t worry, piccola ladra. I have a plan.
I toggle over to a new message from Enzo.
Fuck off.
No sooner do I read it, does the echo of the front door slamming rattle throughout the brownstone. Annoyed, I sip the whiskey, and settle back into the soft wingback chair and watch the fire.
The heat from the flame is intense enough to warm my body, even though the chair sits several feet from it. It’s a welcome feeling—an appreciated luxury in contrast to the turning air outside.
October is one of my favorite months in the city. Not quite cold enough to produce snow, but the air is crisp and refreshing. The seasons have noticeably changed throughout the colors of the plant life, and the promise of festivities for the upcoming holidays swirl in the air.
Approaching footsteps pull me from my thoughts, and I take another drink, watching the doorway to see who’s coming.
Enzo steps through the open threshold, refusing to look at me as he sinks down into the chair adjacent to where I sit. Leaning forward, he rests his elbows on top of his legs, steepling his hands against his mouth as he stares into the fire, lost in thought.
The crackling of wood, and the far-off clanging of dishes, are the only sounds that settle in the study. The air thickens with tension—neither Enzo nor I speak the first word.
I have nothing to say that won’t end in regret, either of my words or my actions.
I’mangryat him, and I can’t even explain to him why.
It’s better to go.
Standing, I toss back what’s left of my whiskey, casting a glance at my cousin as I walk toward the door. Just before I make it there, he decides to break the silence.
“Why did you have such a reaction to me suggesting we take Paladino’s daughter?”
My reaction is instantaneous—my heart rate spikes, palms twitch, wanting to curl into fists. There’s a lump in my throat I can’t quite swallow, as I force myself to remain impassive and not let my facial expressions give me away.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” I put forth, buying myself a little more time.
From over his shoulder, he scrutinizes me. His eyes narrow, then he shakes his head.
Pushing his hand through his hair, he hangs his head in defeat.
Just then, my phone vibrates in my hand. Vinnie’s name catches my eye, so I turn my attention to the message.
