Page 104 of Absinthe Minded
The car came to a stop in front of the imposing Greek revival house, and my nerves kicked into high gear.What if she hadn’t received the email? Should I have sent a text? Called?
Deciding to wait until morning, I knocked on the glass to get the driver’s attention. Unfortunately, the front door opened before he lowered the glass.
Evelyn Marchionni stood on the front steps with several sheets of paper clenched in her hand. Even from the distance, I could tell the woman glared.
I opened the door but hesitated.
“Stay in the car.”
For a split second, I thought she’d refused to see me, but rather than going back inside, she joined me in the limo.
“This will never see the light of day.” She shook the copy of my article at me. “Do you understand?”
“I do.” Journalistic integrity, paychecks, and my pride be damned. I would have done anything to take it back if that meant I didn’t have to see the hurt and disappointment in Gabe’s eyes.
Her expression softened a smidge. “Is it true? They don’t want the life we’ve made for them?”
“I can’t presume to speak for the others, but Gabe is struggling.” I lowered my voice in hopes of keeping the tension in the car to a minimum. We were two women having a conversation about a man we loved.
Evelyn glanced out the window and drew a deep breath. “My parents held the deed to our house until they died. Joe’s father left the business to him in his will. This is how things have always been done.”
“Your sons know this and respect you and Mr. Marchionni too much to put up a fuss about it, but—”
“They don’t like it.”
“No, they don’t.” I took a moment to gather my thoughts. “The guys were raised in the States. They have the best of both worlds. Sicilian values and American work ethics. Gabe busted his butt to make his bar successful. Handing it over to Leo…”
“He will make the Marchionni Corporation just as successful.” She raised her chin.
“You’re right. He will.” I chose my next words carefully. “He will do what’s asked of him. He’ll live where you tell him to live. Work where you tell him to work, and marry who you tell him to marry, but at what cost?”
She stared as if daring me to say more.
Rather than go at her with both barrels, I went for a softer approach. “What was Mr. Marchionni like when he was young?”
Evelyn cracked a half-smile. “A lot like Gabe. Handsome, driven, and tender-hearted.”
Her candor surprised me to the point I pushed thesubject-that-shall-not-be-mentioned. “I don’t want thefamily businessto harden Gabe the way it did Papa Joe.”
Her eyes widened before she could smooth her expression. “Boys grow up and become men. It is a fact of life.”
“Gabeisa man. A successful man in his own right, as are Enzo, Leo, and the rest.” I drew a deep breath. “As I wrote in the article, Gabe has one foot in the old world and one in the modern world. It’s tearing him apart.”
She sighed. “I see.”
“Your sons should be allowed to run their own lives. Own their homes. Choose their careers, even if that means they don’t want to be a part of the family business.”
She straightened her spine and folded the papers in half—a sure sign the conversation had come to an end. “You are a naïve girl who doesn’t understand the world.”
“Maybe, but I know you don’t want to bury another son. Can you honestly tell me Gabe will be safe?”
She dipped her chin and made the sign of the cross. “It won’t come to that.”
“Even if it doesn’t, do you want to visit your sons in prison? It’s not like it used to be. Everything we do leaves a digital footprint. Law enforcement already suspects they’re involved in organized crime. How long until one of them is caught?”
Tears filled her eyes.
I reached for her hand. “He’ll honor his father’s wishes to take over the company, but hewillrun it the way he sees fit, including breaking ties with organized crime.”