by Dave Daren
I cut him off with the name of my bank and told him to check whatever he had to to get me in the house.
I hung up and rolled my eyes which gave Liz a case of the giggles.
“He must not be used to someone offering so much up front,” she finally said. “He’s probably pissing his pants right now, terrified that you’ll walk away with all that money.”
“I’m sure he’s now working very hard to make sure the buyers take it,” I replied with a smile. “The sooner, the better. I need to get out of this place. Don’t the neighbors drive you nuts?”
As if on cue, a pot clattered to the ground, followed quickly by the screech of a young child. The walls were paper-thin, so I had no idea if it was even my next-door neighbor’s kid or someone else in a random area of the building.
I’d been going stir-crazy listening to babies scream, couples fight, and dogs bark over the past few days since I’d decided to move. It seemed like everything was amplified since I knew the apartment’s days were numbered.
“It’s not much different from mine,” she chuckled. “You’re just ready to get out of here.”
“You’re probably right,” I muttered and glanced at my phone again. “He still hasn’t called back.”
“It’s Sunday,” Liz pointed out. “His clients could be busy or at church or something.”
“Ugh,” I groaned. “I guess we could work on some of our actual jobs until he calls.”
My co-counsel nodded her agreement, and we got to work on the papers I’d need for court during the upcoming week. ADA Velez had finally sent over the copies of their files and the body cam footage from Falacci’s arrest, so we could start with that. I quickly discovered my client had been more accurate with his recollection than Velez had cared to admit. It would be an easy win once I showed the evidence to the judge, and I tucked it away to get ready for our next appearance.
With Liz taking a step back, I’d have to keep track of my court dates and work the random police department rescues in between them. I was still considering an actual paralegal when my phone buzzed on the table.
“Mr. Morgan?” the realtor asked.
“Yes, sir,” I confirmed. “Did you talk to the sellers?”
“Yes, they’re fully on board with your offer,” he declared. “Normally, there’s a few weeks of time needed to finish the closing paperwork, but my clients are willing to let you move in this week while we finish things up since you’re offering a large commitment. Would you be available on Tuesday to get the keys?”
“Let me check,” I murmured as I scanned the calendar Liz and I had created with my court dates. “Yes, I can meet around one on Tuesday at the house.”
“I’ll see you then, Mr. Morgan,” he said.
“Thank God!” I exclaimed as I hung up. “Time to hire some movers!”
“You got it!” Liz hugged me.
Just a year ago, I was worried about working a shitty job and living in my barely-above-shitty apartment and paying off my school loans. Now, here I was, about to sign off on a house that cost much more than those loans and pay half in full up front. I couldn’t believe just how much my life had changed by meeting Anthony Lamon, and I sent him a text to tell him the good news.
House is in the works! Moving soon!
I set my phone down on the table and couldn’t keep the stupid grin off my face. It was finally happening, and all my hard work was worth this moment.
Then Liz and I celebrated a few more times before we were interrupted by my phone ringing again.
“Surely, they didn’t change their minds,” I grumbled as I grabbed my phone from the coffee table, looked at the number, and froze.
“What is it?” Liz asked as she sat up and looked at me.
“It’s the number for the hospital.”
Chapter 6
“Great news about the house!” Anthony’s chipper voice sounded in my ear when I finally answered the call.
“Wait, what?” I paused and looked at the number again. “Anthony, where are you?”
“I’m at the hospital with my dad,” he said in a confused tone. “I was calling to tell you they’re about to release him, but I saw your text right before I came up here to check on him, so congrats!”
“Thanks,” I muttered as I mentally recovered from the scare. “So, you’re taking him home, then?”
“Yeah, and that you-know-what is being planned for tonight, so I need you out at the house,” Anthony whispered.
Oh, shit. The welcome home party. I palmed my forehead as I recalled Annie and Gulia’s party planning, and I wondered if there was any way to avoid the get-together. As thrilled as I was for Anthony to have his dad home again, I was not so thrilled at the prospect of attending a surprise party for a guy who clearly wasn’t a fan of surprises. Plus, no one really wanted their attorney to show up at the family party, right?
“Well, I have a few court dates this week I need to finish prepping for,” I said carefully. “I need to--”
“Bullshit,” my client cut me off. “You need to be here. This is family stuff.”
I paused at the insinuation that I was considered part of the family. Anthony had never said anything to make me feel like I was, but it seemed this party was more important to him than he’d let on. I briefly wondered if he was only pulling the family card to get me to come, but even if he was, that meant he needed me there, so I’d have to make it happen.
“Alright,” I sighed. “I have Liz with me. Do you want her to come?”
“Oh, working on the weekend, huh?” Anthony teased. “Yes, she should come also. Dinner will be at seven.”
I glanced at my watch and noticed it was nearly five already, so we’d have to leave in the next hour to be at the estate by seven. That didn’t give me nearly enough mental preparation time, but we could at least be dressed by then. I guessed that would have to be enough for the Febbo welcome home party.
“Okay, we’ll be there.” I hung up and looked at Liz.
My co-counsel’s eyes had narrowed, and she gave me the same hard stare she used on clients she thought might be lying to her.
“What did you just volunteer me for?” she asked.
“Sal’s welcome home party is tonight,” I explained with a sheepish smile. “So, we need to get ready because it starts at seven.”
“I thought that was a family thing.” Liz furrowed her brow. “Why are we going?”
“Well, he implied that I had to be there for family stuff, so I’m still not sure how to take that,” I admitted. “But then he said you should come, too. Maybe he just wants us to go over everything with Sal?”
“Maybe,” she agreed. “We need to get ready, then.”
We cleaned up our various takeout boxes and chucked them in the trash, along with the notes about the houses I’d decided against. I was satisfied with my decision, and it seemed like Tuesday was forever away. Maybe this party was exactly what I needed to get closer to the big day.
Maybe.
Once we finished in the living room, we rushed into the shower and cleaned up for the party. We left the bathroom wrapped in towels, and I began to search the closet for what to wear while Liz grabbed her new jeans and dug a blue shirt from her purse.
“I thought you bought a red one,” I said with confusion as she pulled the top over her head.
“I did,” she giggled. “And this one, just in case we had to go out in public again before I got a chance to go to my place.”
“Good call,” I said with a grin.
Liz pulled a little bag from her giant purse and began to dab some makeup on her face, though I didn’t think she needed a drop of it. She borrowed my brush and combed out her long, blonde hair before she twisted it back into some kind of bun at the base of her neck.
I pulled on a pair of corduroys and a navy-blue-and-white checkered button-up, and then finger-combed my hair. I made a mental note to check in with that barber Anthony had taken me to, so I could get the fade trimmed up before my mop of cu
rls took over again. I pulled on my brown loafers as Liz slid into her black high heels, and we were ready to go.
As we started to head for the door, I remembered my pistol and quickly slipped the holster inside my waistband. I didn’t plan on trouble at Anthony’s house, but given the fight we’d witnessed a few days ago, it was probably better to be safe than sorry. Besides, I’d barely gotten to wear it since I’d been in court so much lately, and I found myself missing the comfort it provided.
Even though I knew I could hold my own in a fight, I’d been attacked by too many people with guns to think I could easily survive them all without my own. It made me feel better to know I could protect Liz and myself, especially since Hank had taught me how to actually use the damn thing. Now, it felt more natural to have it on me than to leave it tucked away in its case like I used to do.
As I pulled my shirt down to cover the slight bulge, I noticed Liz had turned to watch me add my concealed accessory.
“You really carry that around?” Liz looked down at my hip with doubt.
“Yeah, there are too many people showing up unannounced these days to not be prepared,” I pointed out. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
“Okay,” she murmured before I held the front door open for her.
We stepped out into the hallway and headed for the elevators. It was five minutes to six when we walked out into the waning sunlight and made a beeline for the parking garage. The Crown Vic was nowhere to be seen, but I had a feeling the federal agents weren’t too far away. I knew Hank was hiding somewhere in the shadows as well, but his presence was much less intimidating.
As we drove out to Riverhead, Liz flipped through the radio stations until Sinatra’s smooth voice crooned out of the speakers. She turned it up and rolled down her window as we sailed along the LIE. The wind released her hair from its bun, but she seemed not to care as the long strands blew around the cabin, and I couldn’t help but smile.
It was times like these that made me wonder if Liz and I could really pull off a relationship. We were able to be so comfortable and carefree with each other, even though we were headed somewhere we didn’t particularly want to be, and everything about us came so naturally. The timing had always been wrong, but maybe someday it would be right. I smiled at the thought, and Liz opened her eyes in time to see my lips curled up in contentment.
“What are you so happy about?” she teased. “I thought you didn’t want to go to this party.”
“I don’t,” I assured her with a laugh. “I’m just enjoying the drive.”
“Me, too,” she nearly whispered as she put her hand on my thigh.
I laced my fingers through hers and pressed my lips to her skin as we continued to glide across the freeway to the tune of “Summer Wind.”
When we arrived at the Febbo estate, the driveway was already packed with cars, and I realized Anthony’s other siblings had likely shown up for this event as well. I cringed at the thought of the various small children running around the expensively decorated house, but it was time to face the music.
We climbed out of my Mercedes, and I glanced up to see the window to Anthony’s office had been repaired. No more shattered glass blanketed the ground below it, either. If I hadn’t watched the glass smash against the ground myself, I’d have no idea what had taken place here just the day before. It seemed Anthony had made sure it was fixed before his father or siblings arrived at the house.
The front door opened just as we stepped onto the porch, and a grinning Michael stood in the doorway with a glass of red wine. His eyes were a little watery, but his skin shined with the glow of his relaxing vacation to Italy, and he stepped out onto the porch as we approached.
“Hunter!” Anthony’s uncle greeted me with a heavy handshake before he turned to Liz. “Ms. Bennett, always a pleasure.”
“Likewise, Mr. Lamon,” Liz replied and smiled.
“Come in, come in,” he said as he motioned for us to enter. “Everyone is out back.”
“Ah, dinner outside tonight, huh?” I asked while we walked through the living room.
“It prevents too many accidents,” Michael whispered mischievously.
I heard the children before I saw them, and screams of glee and excitement echoed around the large yard as we walked out the French doors to join the rest of the Febbo family. At least six kids sprinted across the grass with various balls and bats and God knows what else while the adults sat at the table with wine glasses.
“Ah, Hunter, Liz!” Anthony said as he rose from the table to shake our hands. “I’ll have Katarina get you a glass.”
“Just one,” I replied. “Court in the morning.”
“Yes, you must stay sharp.” Salvatore Febbo’s voice was raspier than I remembered, but I imagined it had something to do with his long hospital stay.
He stood and came around the table to grasp my hand firmly. He seemed to have aged in the few months since I’d seen him, and wrinkles now lined the edges of his eyes and mouth. He moved slowly but decidedly, and even though he was older and weak from his injuries, I could still feel the steel in his grip as he held onto me.
“Nice to see you again, Mr. Febbo,” I said cautiously.
“I hear you’ve been taking care of my son,” he replied as he squinted at me. “And my friends.”
“I can’t take all the credit for that,” I insisted and gestured toward Liz. “My co-counsel has been just as instrumental in the cases your son gives me. She’s my right-hand woman.”
“Ah, a beauty like that should be your left-hand woman, if you catch my drift.” Sal winked as he kissed Liz’s hand.
I froze at his insinuation, despite my musings about our possible future together. I’d just imagined us being together all the time, but the thought of marriage wasn’t anything I’d considered just yet. I didn’t see myself getting married for a long time, though it had nothing to do with Liz. I just had goals to reach, and I’d never pictured doing it as a family man.
Liz blushed a deep scarlet as she hesitated to respond, but Anthony saved her just in time.
“Come on, Pop, not everyone wants to be locked down,” he said with a thumb over his shoulder to the screeching kids. “It’s a lot quieter being single.”
“But much less exciting,” Sal chuckled. “Let’s get some food out here. I’m starving. They didn’t feed me any good shit at the hospital.”
With that, Katarina led a group of kitchen staff outside to serve each of us a bowl of salad. I nodded quick hellos to the rest of Anthony’s family as we waited for Sal to sit down and start his meal. I noticed it was Sal we waited for, rather than Anthony as it had been for the past few months, but I didn’t say anything.
Sal had returned as the head of the Febbo family, but that didn’t tell me what he planned to do about the Febbo business. While they were obviously closely linked, they weren’t the same, and I still had no idea what the father and son were planning to do.
I hoped they still wanted to go legit, which would make my job a lot easier, but I got the feeling Anthony was much more like his father than he cared to admit. He’d spent many years trying to prove he was different, but it only took one event to bring him right back into the fold.
I wondered if Anthony would talk to his father about legalizing Jovanni’s operation in the business, which would have to lead into making everything else legit, but I had no idea if I’d ever know about that conversation unless Anthony asked me to get new businesses set up like I had in Virginia. I’d just have to wait out yet another Mafia mystery.
“So, Hunter, did you catch the Yankees game?” Cathy’s husband, Paul, asked once the salad bowls were empty.
“I’ve been a little busy,” I admitted. “How was it?”
Paul dove right into a play-by-play of the latest baseball game, and I could see the rest of the family wasn’t impressed with the topic, but it was better than when he tried to talk shop. His financial advice wasn’t exactly welcomed by the Febbo patriarch, but that
hardly ever stopped him from trying to slip business into every conversation.
I nodded and showed surprise at all the right times until his sportscast was interrupted by the next round of appetizers. The bowls were filled with chunks of fresh mozzarella, small tomatoes, and toasted bread covered in a variety of herbs. It smelled heavenly, and I happily tossed the bite-sized pieces in my mouth to avoid continuing the baseball conversation. I didn’t mind indulging Paul for a while to keep the peace, but I preferred to eat the home-cooked meal.
Thankfully, so did Paul, and the table conversation diverted to the kids who still trampled around the yard. Ella and Cathy updated their parents on their children’s various accomplishments and interests from good grades to new sports, while their respective husbands looked bored out of their minds.
Ella’s husband Kenyon had the sense to at least chime in every five or ten minutes with an excited agreement, but he mostly let Anthony’s sister do the talking. I remembered Anthony had said Kenyon worked as a DJ or something, which was a job Sal highly disapproved of, but it seemed he and Ella were happy together, and it made me wonder if the married life was really all that bad.
Next came calzones and meatballs, and we had a few minutes of sweet silence as even the kids joined us at the table to eat the meal. It tasted fantastic, though I wasn’t sure who was cooking since Gulia had remained at Sal’s side since I’d arrived. Nevertheless, by the time I’d cleared my plate, my stomach felt ready to pop.
“I think I still have some gelato, Hunter,” Gulia offered when she saw me set down my fork. “I’m still not sure which one was your favorite flavor.”
“Me either,” I replied with a grin. “They were all so good.”
“You made gelato for Hunter?” Cathy asked and widened her eyes.
“Well, not just for him,” Gulia chided. “If you’d come around more, I’d make it for all of you, too.”
“We can make more after dinner,” Annie suggested.
“That sounds great,” her mother agreed before she turned to me. “Would you like to finish off what’s left?”
