Luca's Dilemma (6 page)

Shelia wasn't so sure about that, but what did she know about Northern etiquette? “How long have you lived here?”

“A little over a year… and I use Maine slang for the same reason someone with a slight, but distinct, southern accent will soon be using Maine slang. It’s catchy.”

“Mmm hmmm. I don’t think so.”

“Don’t ‘mmm hmmm’ me, woman. Mark my words.”

Once again laughter filled the small room.

“So, what made you leave Hot–lanta for the precarious, volatile elements of Maine?”

Apparently that manly–man Richard was running his big mouth about her. She sighed before relaying her overly practiced response. “It was time for a change. Tina was here so I figured, hey, why not?”

“Don’t you have family back home?”

“No. They’ve all relocated. My parents grew tired of the humidity and moved to California. My brother’s in Afghanistan serving as sergeant major in one of the infantry brigades.”

“You must really miss them.”

“Sometimes. But we manage to Skype often. Quite frankly, I rather enjoy my peace and quiet. Family can be downright demanding at times.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed a little too eagerly.

Sheila was about to inquire, but they were interrupted.

“Sheila, I’m ready for bed,” Ms. Cote called from the other room, temporarily ending their conversation.

“Well, I’d better put her to bed. I’ll be back in a little bit.”

“Take your time, babe. And thanks. I know this experience could’ve been less than comfortable for both of us. But you've made it worthwhile,” Luca stated with a wink and a crooked smile.

Sheila turned and left the room, shaking her head in amusement yet again. Before tonight such an endearment coming from him would have instantly earned the horse–boy a thorough tongue–lashing. But now that she had gotten to know him, she was able to accept it as part of his quirkiness and didn’t take it as an insult. Had she finally found common ground with her neglectful, yet charming, landlord? Only time would tell.

Chapter 5

“So do we have a deal, Nathan?” Sal Patina inquired from the other end of the phone.

“Why are you specifically requesting Luca do this? He’s no longer a threat to you, nor does my son owe you anything.”

“That’s your opinion, not mine. I no longer have my little angels because of you and your boys. As far as I’m concerned, you Moriattis owe me everything.”

Nathan was silent. He forced himself to remain calm while digesting Sal’s words. Of course he didn't agree with him but knew it would be best to keep a handle on Sal until he could figure out exactly what the little weasel was up to.

“Let me think about it. I’ll get back to you by the end of the year.”

“End of the year? Surely there's no need for procrastination, Nathan.”

“You should know by now that I don't like to repeat myself,” Nathan said in a tone that brooked no argument.

“The end of the year I can do… as long as the answer you give me is the one I want to hear.”

Raising his eyebrows in astonishment, Nathan pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at it. After all these years, it would appear Patina had finally grown a pair. Nathan wasn't too worried about his old friend's newfound courage or, probably more appropriate, stupidity. Sal's power in the mafia world didn't begin to compare to that of the Moriatti Empire.

“If Luca refuses to do it, I’ll just find someone who will,” Sal continued. “But I warn you, turning me down won’t bring our families any closer together.” The line went dead.

That too–familiar burn churned in the depths of Nathan’s stomach as his blood began to boil. It rose rapidly, exploding through his mouth and hand when he could no longer contain it. He slammed the cordless phone down on the receiver with a loud curse, his anger echoing throughout the large office.

“That fucked–up Patina family is going to literally be the death of me,” he whispered to himself, clenching and unclenching his fist on the surface of the desk before him. They had to be the whiniest creatures to walk the face of the Earth. Sal’s request was unusual, as he had his own people to handle such things. The Moriattis usually picked and chose their own assignments and only took on cases they felt were worthy of their attention. The fact that Sal was trying to force this on him meant something was definitely up, which only served to fuel Nathan’s rage all the more. Life was finally settling down for him and his family, and he was nowhere near in the mood for this.

Needing to calm down, he moved from behind his large oak desk and strolled over to the grand floor–to–ceiling windows and French doors overlooking the lush backyard of his Upstate New York estate. Deep thoughts took his gaze far beyond the view of the edgeless pool and the treasured rose garden of his beloved, Hilde. A deep sigh escaped him, and he ran his hand over his face, bringing it to rest on his chin. Sal had it wrong, plain and simple. They owed him nothing. Those little bitches of his hadn't been anything close to angels, unless the angels he had been referring to were the kind spawned from the devil himself. The two lunatics had met their demise of their own accord, and he refused to do Sal a favor based on the guilt the man believed the Moriattis should harbor.

Unfortunately, Nathan discerned declining Sal’s request
would
indubitably result in an all–out war between the two families, something else he wasn't particularly in the mood for. He’d managed to avoid one after the death of Sal’s daughters but wasn't so sure he could pull it off again. With that said, he didn’t want to drag any of his loved ones into the bullshit that was the Patina clan.

Movement in the pool brought him out of his musings. He dropped his hands into his pockets and smiled at the sight of his nephew, Tyler, and Tyler's son as they floated in the pool. Apparently, Tyler had succeeded in convincing his wife, Evy, that the child wasn't too young for swimming lessons after all. As luck would have it, today was exceptionally warm for October and perfect for the activity.

The interior door to his office opened and closed behind him. Nathan didn't need to turn around to know who it was. After nearly fifty years of marriage, he could sense her presence as easily as he took his own breath. With each step, Hilde’s distinct lilac smell grew stronger, stimulating his senses and causing his pulse to race in anticipation of her touch. It would forever amaze him that this one woman held more power over him than anyone else on the planet.

“Aren't they precious?” Hilde whispered softly in his ear as her slender arms wrapped around his midriff from behind. Her thick Italian accent added to the natural sexiness of her voice and, even at his age, elicited a response from his manhood.

“I guess so,” he responded jokingly. Turning in her delicate arms, he placed a long, sensual kiss on her pink lips as they parted slightly with laughter. He stepped back and caressed her soft cheek. “You look exceptionally beautiful this morning,
cara
.”

“Oh, you always use that line,
bello
. After all these years, don't you think it's time for a new one?” she responded on cue.

“Well, apparently it still works. Why change?”

Her alabaster face lit up with a broad smile, despite the fact that they had teased each other with this same dialog throughout the entirety of their marriage. Nathan loved that smile. Over the years it had become his rock, especially during numerous instances when the weight of the world was upon him.

Nathan let his eyes roam over her, taking in the silky, blond hair gathered in a large bun at the nape of her neck. Fine lines etched the corners of her deep brown eyes, the only authentication to her true age, adding to her well–worn persona of sophistication. No one could ever imagine just how much he appreciated each of those wrinkles. Breast cancer had come close to robbing him of the chance to ever see those laugh lines, and he saw them as evidence of the many years of laughter God had so graciously gifted the two of them after the battle had been won.

Nathan's eyes fell to her chest where evidence of the battle remained. Being the proud woman that she was, Hilde had forgone reconstructive surgery, stating, “There’s more to me than a pair of breasts.” Nathan had to agree with her on that one and marveled at her decision not to cave into the standards of society. He loved her even more for it.

Hilde's gaze moved beyond him to focus on the occupants of the pool, her eyes taking on that familiar sparkle of joy. “It feels so right to finally have him here, doesn't it?”

Nathan turned to face the same direction as his wife. “I have to agree with you, although I am surprised he was willing to come without Drago this time.” He rubbed his chin in thought. “He’ll use Cyndi and Maria as a buffer, no doubt.”

Hilde shrugged. “Remember, after what some would consider a lifetime, he’s just now acknowledging us as family. There’s a lot of animosity to overcome. On both sides. These things take time. Perhaps this trip is an indication that his wounded heart is finally ready to take those appropriate steps toward healing.” She paused, running a hand over his abdomen. “He looks so much like his mama and our own Cyndi, no?”

Nathan stiffened at the mention of his youngest sibling, even though Hilde had purposely excluded her name. Try as he might, he couldn't summon a respectful reply to his wife's comment and didn't want to tarnish this prized moment with an argument.

“It is okay,
bello
. I know he's not the only one with wounds,” she murmured, squeezing his midriff gently.

The feel of her elegant fingers on his shoulders as she began to massage away the tension there practically turned his mind to mush. It was time to put all malevolent thoughts of his sister and the Patina family on the back burner and spend this time getting to know Tyler and his new family. Nathan had plenty of time to hash out how to deal with Sal.

***

The first week of October was cool in Maine. Sheila hung out in the back seat of the humungous pickup truck while Tina and Richard drove in silence toward Fryeburg. Sheila couldn’t help but marvel at the beautiful trees as the trio quietly rode along the vast roads. The leaves had just begun to turn and were breathtaking, with earthy reds, oranges, and golden yellows lining the streets like jewelry. Tina had always bragged about how people came from all over the country to peep at these leaves, and now Sheila bore witness as to why. Now, she as well could take pride in knowing a simple walk in her own back yard was all she required to be part of this mystical season.

“We’re almost there,” Tina said, breaking through Sheila's reverie.

“Good. I know it’s early, but I can’t wait to wrap my mouth around a funnel cake.”

“I'll bet you can't,” Richard chimed in.

Sheila’s chance glimpse in the rearview mirror revealed a randy smile on Richard’s face, duly earning him a slap on the arm from his wife.

Richard chuckled. “Anyhoo… We have fried dough up here,” he corrected in his know–it–all way.

“Fried dough, funnel cakes… call it whatever you want as long as it tastes good,” Sheila retorted, doing her best to ignore his lewdness and his supercilious tone.
What the hell is wrong with the men up here
? she thought while simultaneously thanking God Tina’d had the foresight to hit him before she did. This was her first real outing with the couple, and she didn't want to ruin it.

“If I’m feeling up to it, I might even try to pat a pony… You know, get in touch with my inner country bumpkin.” She giggled, taking the amused glance the couple exchanged between each other as encouragement. They had often complained about her aversion to animals, and she wanted to show her friends that she wasn’t as hardhearted against the things as they often accused her of being. Maybe then the meddling couple would leave her alone about it.

“I really hope they have a lot of games and rides,” she continued. “I haven’t been on a Ferris wheel in ages. You know, I’m pretty good at hitting that target and dunking people too. What school or charity does this fair support?” she asked, sticking her head between those of the couple in the front seat. The excitement of the outing was starting to make her antsy.

“Well, it doesn’t really support a specific school or charity. More like… an entire community,” Tina explained.

“Really! All that from a little ol’ fair?” Sheila asked incredulously, her excitement mounting. Being brought up in high society hadn't afforded Sheila much time for events of this nature. The majority of her childhood and teen years had been spent in etiquette classes and ballrooms, learning how not to have fun. Once in a great while, her parents would allow her to attend school fundraisers held by some of the local private institutions, and those were the only fairs she was familiar with.

“It’s not really all that little,” Tina added in an overly soothing voice.

Richard’s eyes shifted side to side, and he seemed to be working double time to keep from smiling.

At this point Sheila started to suspect her companions were up to something. She’d learned early on in their friendship that when Tina used her “sing–song” voice, something Sheila wasn't going to like was in the cards.

“Okay, sister. Spill it!”

“We’re here,” Richard said, sparing his wife for the moment.

Sheila let it go for the time being. She sat back in her seat while Richard followed the visual instructions of the parking attendants to the next available spot. After parking fairly close to the gate, the trio undid their seatbelts and exited the silver Ford F–350. Sheila started to feel a little anxious as the reality of just how big this event might be started to sink in. She had never been one for large crowds but was ready to prove to her friends and herself that she was up to the task of getting involved in community events. She'd do almost anything to stop that tired behind, Richard, from calling her a prima donna again.

“What is it that you’re not telling me, Tina?” Sheila asked after they had walked a short distance from the truck in silence. Recalling the silent exchange that had transpired between the couple and the strange way they were acting now was making her wary.