Cosa Nostra by Emma Nichols) 16656409 (z-lib.org) (1)-compressed

by Неизвестный

  as far from the port as possible. She glanced at Simone, reclining against

  the headrest. She seemed a little more relaxed. “How was work today?”

  “It was fine.”

  “I need to talk to you about the explosion at the port.”

  Simone sighed, but Maria continued. “Alessandro is going to be

  angry that his vans have been decommissioned. He won’t be able to

  transport merchandise for a long while.”

  Simone looked across at Maria. “Did anyone get killed?”

  Maria shook her head. “No, Simone. That is not the Lombardo...”

  She stopped, the lie scolding her with the orders she had given that would

  change all that in the near future. What was the Lombardo way?

  “But two women nearly died earlier today.”

  Maria swallowed hard. Simone had heard. Undoubtedly, Alessandro

  would have been bragging. “Yes, that is the Amato way.”

  Simone lowered her eyes to her hands. “Yes. My family were killed

  by them.”

  Maria reached across and took Simone’s hand. “Yes, I know.”

  Simone lifted her head up and looked at Maria. “Of course. Is there

  anything you don’t know?”

  Yes. I don’t know you, and I want to. Maria swallowed the mild

  accusation and smiled. “I’m sure there’s lots I don’t know.”

  Simone lowered her head. Maria turned the car down a dirt track,

  and the softly lit single storey building became brighter. The small lake over

  which the rear of the restaurant looked came into view as they parked. It

  had been a long time since she had visited her uncle and aunt’s restaurant.

  The lighting that had been set out around the bank reflected in ripples

  across the surface, and running water indicated a small fall that fed into the

  body of water and competed with the incessant chattering of the insects

  whose day had not long begun. “I had forgotten how beautiful this place is.

  I think you’ll like it.” Maria smiled. “I didn’t know your family very well,

  but I recall the incident. Your parents and brother were victims caught in the

  crossfire. Stefano is in prison for his part in that crime among other related

  ones. The Amatos owed a debt to your family.”

  Simone lowered her head. Her hands were shaking. “It was guilt

  money. They gave me a job and paid me more than I would be paid in any

  other restaurant in Sicily so I could look after Roberto.”

  Maria squeezed Simone’s hand. “Yes. It’s the way they operate.”

  “It was fine in the beginning. Patrina was kind, and I worked in the

  kitchens then. It is only recently that Alessandro…that he is asserting

  himself. He wanted me to work front-of-house at the café, and Patrina gives

  him what he wants.”

  “They don’t own you.” Maria felt Simone’s sadness as if it were her

  own, and the desire to kiss Simone in the darkness and privacy of the car

  came to her with such force, it took her breath away.

  “Alessandro thinks he does.”

  The desire to protect became stronger as Alessandro’s image flashed

  in Maria’s mind. She turned from Simone. “I promise he won’t hurt you

  ever again.” She couldn’t tell Simone she would dispose of him altogether

  if she had to. But she would…and without a second thought.

  Simone reached up and stroked Maria’s cheek. “Thank you.”

  Maria felt fire in the touch zip through her. You are so beautiful.

  Gently, she ran a fingertip along Simone’s hairline and lifted her chin.

  “Let’s get that drink.”

  17.

  “Maria, what a delightful surprise. It has been too long.”

  The slender, silver haired man held out his arms and smiled broadly

  as he stepped up to Maria. He tugged her to his chest and held her in a

  greeting that demonstrated heartfelt affection.

  “Uncle, how good to see you. How is Paola?” Maria patted him on

  the back as she squeezed him. She held his shoulders as she eased out of the

  embrace and looked into his wise eyes.

  He threw his hands in the air with dramatic effect and rolled his

  eyes. “That woman is getting older and grumpier every year. I will get her

  from the kitchen.”

  Maria stopped him. “Later. Uncle Lorenzo, this is a friend of mine;

  Simone Di Salvo.” Maria looked at Simone, and her heart skipped a beat.

  “Simone, this is Lorenzo Lombardo.” She smiled then whispered, “His wife

  is Paola. She’s the chef and the reason people come here.” She looked at her

  uncle and laughed, patting Lorenzo firmly on the shoulder as he rolled his

  eyes again.

  “She is the best chef that no one has heard of,” Lorenzo said.

  The fondness he held for his wife appeared in the glow in his cheeks

  and the softness of his gaze. Simone held out her hand and he shook it,

  bowing his head slightly then kissing both her cheeks.

  “Very pleased to meet you, Simone. We rarely see Maria. It is good

  to know she has friends.”

  He chuckled and ushered them through the restaurant to a quiet

  corner with a window overlooking the lake. The night sky looked darker

  from inside the building and but for the crescent moon and a sprinkling of

  stars, it would be impossible to see anything at all through the window.

  Barely perceptibly, trees bounded the small lake in haunting silhouette set

  against the darkness. Inside, candles remoulded from use flickered on the

  centre of the tables that diners had recently vacated. The two remaining

  guests were quietly drinking coffee.

  Maria smiled at Lorenzo and waited until Simone sat before taking

  her seat. “Would you like something to eat?”

  Simone hesitated, heat rising swiftly through her and burning her

  cheeks. She hadn’t considered food. It was just short of midnight, and she

  hadn’t eaten before leaving work. She felt awkward that they were

  inconveniencing these poor people this late at night, but Maria smiled at her

  as if they had all the time in the world. “A little, maybe.”

  Maria shifted her attention from Simone to Lorenzo. “Would Auntie

  rustle up a few nibbles for us? Nothing special, Uncle. Thank you.”

  He raised his hand and shook his head. His shallow frown didn’t last

  for long, and he broke into a beaming smile. “You cannot spoil my evening.

  I get one chance in many months to spoil my niece. I will spoil her and her

  beautiful friend. We are in no rush to close.”

  Simone blushed. Maria smiled at Lorenzo and Simone felt the

  tenderness with which she looked at her uncle. Lifted by the unreserved

  welcome, she relaxed in the seat. Maria smiled at her, and her heart raced.

  “Would you like wine?”

  Simone’s mouth was dry, and the mild discomfort that came with a

  sense of wanting Maria stirred in her core. “Sure.”

  Maria indicated to the menu. “You can choose.”

  Simone picked up the card and studied the short list of options. She

  looked up and felt the heat of Maria’s gaze piercing through her. She

  swallowed, and Maria smiled with such tenderness she felt moved by her

  and confused at her inability to process the simplest information. Maria

  held her under a spell.

  “All the wines here are good.
”

  Simone’s mouth felt dry. “The house red then.” Frankly, she didn’t

  care.

  Lorenzo dipped his head, firstly to Simone and then to Maria. “An

  excellent choice.”

  He went to the bar and returned immediately with the carafe of wine

  and two glasses then excused himself to attend to the two customers who

  were making their way to the door. He bid them a good evening and locked

  the door behind them. He closed the blinds over the door and the windows

  that exposed the inside of the restaurant to the car park.

  Maria poured them each a glass of wine and leaned back in the seat.

  She released a long breath and sipped her wine.

  Simone watched Maria processing her thoughts in the way the fine

  lines around her eyes came and went, and the slight movement at the corner

  of her mouth, and the faintest tremble in her lips before she wetted them.

  And then Maria bit down as if to control some emotion. Maria’s breathing

  seemed affected, and it was clear that there was a lot running through

  Maria’s mind. “Is everything okay?”

  “Sorry.”

  Maria smiled, and Simone felt the warmth of it move through her.

  The softness appeared in Maria’s eyes again.

  “Sorry, I was just thinking. I promise to stop doing that.”

  Maria’s tone was gentle and witty. Simone laughed. “You can stop

  thinking?”

  Maria raised her eyebrows. “Under certain circumstances.”

  Maria looked at Simone’s chest, albeit fleetingly, and Simone felt

  engulfed by flames. She looked away and sipped her wine. She couldn’t

  even think now, let alone if they had sex. God, she hoped they would. She

  gulped. And when she looked back at Maria, Maria’s smile reached inside

  her, and her stomach flipped. Please don’t look at me like that. She cleared

  her throat and changed the subject. “Were you thinking about the port?”

  Maria’s expression shifted, and Simone wished she hadn’t asked.

  Maria nodded. “And other things?”

  Simone looked at Maria and felt exposed by the connection they

  shared. She hadn’t experienced this depth and quality of feeling with any of

  her exes. Not that there had been many, and none of them serious. Maria

  exuded a quiet, elegant charm. The giddy, light-headedness that came over

  Simone when alone with Maria left her susceptible and wanting in an

  intoxicating blend of desire and fear. Maria looked pensive, and the feeling

  tilted in the direction of fear. “Would you like to talk?”

  Maria cleared her throat. “No, thank you.”

  Suddenly deflated, Simone lowered her eyes. Of course, Maria

  couldn’t talk to her about her work. Maria probably couldn’t talk to her

  about anything. They barely knew each other after all. She picked up her

  wine and took a sip.

  “Hey,” Maria said softly.

  Simone looked up, and Maria’s smile caressed her. The light

  reflecting from Maria’s eyes coaxed her gently back to desire.

  “I don’t want work to spoil the evening.”

  Maria leaned forwards and for a fleeting moment, Simone imagined

  Maria was going to kiss her. But Maria adjusted her position in the seat and

  sat back. Simone’s stomach lurched and disappointment descended like a

  fine layer of snow.

  “Tell me something about yourself. What did you study at

  university?”

  Simone stared over Maria’s shoulder, her thoughts heavy with the

  weight of the time she had tried to forget, and the point at which she had

  parked her life, her lover, and her studies. Everything she had hoped for her

  future had disappeared in a flash. The moment she buried her family, she

  buried her life in a sealed box in the back of her mind. And she had found

  no good reason to open it since. She looked into Maria’s eyes and felt

  compelled by the inexplicable connection. She took a deep breath and

  smiled. “I studied Business and Economics at La Sapienza in Rome.”

  “Pretty and smart.” Maria raised her eyebrows.

  She hadn’t expected that and blushed.

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. “My parents had to work hard to

  afford for me to go.”

  Maria lowered her gaze and nodded. Simone continued. “I was in

  my final year when they were killed. I was toying with going on to do an

  applied Masters in Catering or Tourism.” She looked away from Maria and

  out of the window. “Events took over, and I haven’t given it a second

  thought since.”

  That wasn’t entirely true. She had missed uni…a lot. She had pined

  for the future she had planned more than she dared admit. And she had

  missed Alicia during those first months of separation. They had been

  together since the beginning of their second year. Simone had felt

  comfortable expressing her newfound sexual freedom with her. Alicia had

  been frivolous, liberated, and fun to be around, and characteristically

  nothing like Maria. But Alicia had had no desire to move to Palermo, and

  Simone hadn’t blamed her for that. They had wished each other well, and

  then, insidiously, Simone’s ambition had slipped away. Her role had

  become focused on looking after Roberto and keeping a roof over both their

  heads.

  She wondered, not for the first time, whether she had sold her soul

  to the devil. She looked at Maria, and the depth of emptiness in Maria’s

  dark eyes echoed her own unfulfilled dreams. She watched a frown slowly

  form and narrow Maria’s eyes.

  “I never wanted to be in this business.”

  Maria’s tone was quiet and reflective, and then her eyes glassed

  over.

  Simone reached across the table and took Maria’s hand.

  Maria looked at Simone and shrugged. “Life deals us cards, eh.”

  “Life is shit.” Simone shrugged, and they laughed together. The

  lightness of the moment suspended her contemplative thoughts and warmth

  flowed into her stomach.

  Maria smiled. “What would you like to do with yours?”

  Simone sat back in the seat and stared into space. “I would like to

  own my own café-bar. A small place in a city, close to a theatre for people

  to come and dine at before they go to the opera or the ballet. With the finest

  wines, though not overpriced, and traditional dishes from around the world.

  A place free from the threat of danger. I would pay rent to the landlord and

  not have to pay for protection.” She smiled as she raised her eyebrows at

  Maria.

  Maria winced.

  “I’m teasing you.”

  “It’s true though. People pay us rent for protection.”

  Simone sighed. She didn’t want to think of Maria as one of those

  people.

  “I prefer to think we’re helping them. If we didn’t look after our

  tenants, then the Amatos or others would. And most don’t take care of

  people very well.”

  Simone’s skin prickled. She knew, she worked for them.

  “I would like that place too.”

  Both women turned and looked out the window. Simone sensed the

  rawness of the sorrow and remorse for the world they had been born into.

  She hadn’t considered that
someone in Maria’s position would feel as Maria

  did.

  Lorenzo approached the table with a tray of food. A woman equally

  as skinny as him carried another tray behind him. Maria turned to face

  Simone and smiled. She felt strange, as if something tangible had shifted

  between them, and yet she didn’t know what. She wanted Maria more. She

  took a deep breath and turned to face Lorenzo.

  “Here she is,” Lorenzo said.

  For a moment it was unclear to which woman he referred, but

  Simone felt warmed by his cheery nature.

  Maria took the tray from her aunt and placed it on the table, then

  greeted her with a robust hug. “Auntie. You look beautiful.”

  Paola brushed Maria away with a disapproving huff. “I am old and

  have too many wrinkles, Maria. I am lucky to still be here.” Paola formed a

  cross at her chest, then stroked Maria’s cheek with tenderness as she looked

  her up and down, mumbling in Sicilian. “I’m glad you are here. You look

  very well.”

  Maria kissed her aunt on the cheek. “You will always be the best

  chef in Palermo.”

  She inhaled the complex aromas that filled the room. “It smells

  wonderful,” Simone said. Passion radiated from the old woman’s twinkling

  eyes, and Simone felt embraced by it.

  “Don’t go telling anyone. We are busy enough, and with nice people

  who visit.” Paola said.

  Maria laughed.

  Lorenzo put his tray on a stand at the side of the table and nudged

  his wife away from the table. “Come, come, Paola. Let the ladies eat.”

  Paola walked towards the kitchen mumbling under her breath, and

  then stopped and looked over her shoulder. “You come and say goodbye

  before you go.”

  “Of course, Auntie. I will wake you.” Maria laughed as the two

  older folks disappeared into the kitchen.

  Simone looked at the dishes on the trays. “Wow! This is a snack?”

  Smiling, Maria tilted her head and shrugged. “The food here is

  excellent.”

  Simone picked up a slice of pizza secca and crunched into the thin

  crisp base. Fresh oregano danced on her tongue followed by a hint of sweet

  from the thinly sliced onions and salt from the salami. She watched as

  Maria took the involtini di pesce spada onto her plate, cut a small slice of

  the rolled swordfish, and brought it delicately to her mouth. She continued