Mafia Chic (18 page)

One Year Later

BOOKSIGNING

Meet Teddi Marcello Gallo

Author:
Italian Style: Cooking with the Marcellos

T
here it was.

I was an author.

People crowded the Barnes & Noble near Teddi’s ever since I did a morning television show with my Poppy Marcello and we cooked rigatoni. He can charm the pants off a jury…he can charm the pants off the viewers of morning television.

A lot has happened in a year.

First of all, I’ve had to get used to signing my name. A lot. People bring the book into the restaurant. And then the
signings. Quinn was always the “front of the house” guy, but I’ve adjusted.

What else?

Chef Jeff and Leon have dreads now. Long dreads with multicolored rubber bands.

Ju-Ju-B told us his real name is Horace. We still call him Ju-Ju-B. And honestly, after all this time it suits him. And we don’t know why.

Lady Di and Tony are engaged. He bought her a two-and-a-half-carat rock. From some guy. So it doesn’t have a receipt and a pale blue Tiffany box. It’s still gorgeous. Uncle Lou has set Tony up in a bakery. He is out of the “other” family business for good, except for when anyone comes across Jimmy Choos that have “fallen from a truck,” or Gucci bags, or any one of the dozens of things Diana is thrilled to have fall from the sky. In fact, she
loves
things that fall from trucks and is a walking British-talking Mafia princess.

If you had told me two years ago that I would end up being related by marriage to Diana Kent, I would have said you were crazy. But strange as it seems, the two of them fit together. Tony is rough around the edges, and she is all British polish and wit, and yet…when they are in a room, there is no doubt that what they have is real. He’s learned to like Broadway and to swill martinis with the PR A-list crowd. And her father likes him. Or likes seeing Diana so over the moon. And Diana gets a family full of Marcellos…no more smiling and nodding for her! She gets overbearing, argumentative, dysfunctional, with some food issues thrown in. And she couldn’t be happier.

Teddi’s is packed every night of the week. We’re opening a second location, have repaid our loans entirely, and Pip
no longer has a case of hemorrhoids about us. We’re thriving, and a recent review gave us three stars. No, it’s not four, but I was happy.

Chris Corelli got five years for the attempt on my life, and another ten years for his illegal guns, including the two guns in his trunk, plus some more time thrown in for the heroin he had in his car. My Poppy sat down with Don Corelli, and he promised him no retribution if the Corellis backed off, which they did. And then Poppy surprised everyone by retiring and naming Uncle Lou as the new don. But even Uncle Lou seems to want to take it easy. He wants to live to see grandbabies. So maybe the last of the last of the Mafia are dying down.

Poppy, though retired, is still as wily as ever. He still pulls hundreds out from behind my ear and seems to think I am twelve.

Quinn…ah, Quinn. Well, he and Tatiana are expecting a baby—a girl. And no, that doesn’t mean he’s settled down. He’s as incorrigible as ever—just ask my agent, Anna Friedman, who moons over him like she was twelve. But…he stays faithful, if flirtatious. And Tatiana’s gorgeous enough to handle it. They got a place together near our new location, and after the baby is born and Tatiana can again fit in a size-two dress, they plan on making it legal down at City Hall.

My mother still calls me daily to remind me that my biological clock is ticking.

My brother Michael’s television show was canceled, but he landed a small role in a new superhero movie and is on location in Romania. He says it’s cold there.

Robert Wharton was fired for ethical reasons. Even journalists have some sort of standards. Last I heard he had high-tailed it back to Philadelphia.

The blonde he was fucking moved on to bigger fish. She’s with Jerry Turner now.

And after Robert Wharton lost his pinkie toe in what is now simply known as the “frostbite incident” in the family, Jerry Turner decided he wasn’t so interested in doing an exposé on the Marcellos after all.

And I suppose that leaves me and Mark.

Well, let’s just say Poppy gave him the okay after a lengthy sit-down during which, Mark—thank God for his Italian heritage—actually ate some lamb head. He was reassigned to some sort of banking scam, and he’s thinking about leaving the bureau to start his own private investigation firm.

My father loves Mark because Mark saved my life.

And I love him, too. When Diana and Tony get married, we plan on getting engaged—I don’t want to steal any of her limelight. And then he’ll move into my apartment.

He is my thunderbolt. From that first night he stepped out of that van. I was just too afraid to see it.

And at night…he comes to me and we play with his handcuffs.

1 can (28 oz) imported
^*
Italian tomatoes

1 small can (8 oz) tomato sauce

¼ cup extra virgin olive oil

4 or 5 crushed fresh garlic cloves

1½ T tomato paste

½ small onion chopped

1 T (about - to taste) chicken granules or bouillon paste big grind or two of fresh pepper

(no salt)

handful of chopped/shredded fresh basil

2 T unsalted butter

¼ cup fresh parsley

Heat EVO oil in saute pan add onion and cook for a minute or so, add garlic. Do not brown. Add rest of ingredients. Simmer for about 10 minutes. Add my secret incredient (2T of unsalted butter). Add chopped fresh parsley, about ¼ cup. Either serve over pasta or cool and refrigerate.

For a change can add some chopped black olives or lightly sauteed mushrooms.

Mangia!

Enjoy…with someone you love.